#i'm feeling hopeful about the game!

[ineed-to-sleep]

Some sketches I did to try to get a feel for what I want my Rook to look like 🤔

[vaguely-concerned]

To the ‘themes I am picking up on in Veilguard’ list, let's go ahead and add what I have a sneaking suspicion will actually turn out to be The theme:

— the world has changed and can never be as it was again.

— I have been changed and can never be who I was again.

— in this simple unavoidable truth there is endless grief and endless hope.

And I… may be getting a bit emotional about it haha. Let me show my work a bit: 

if da:o is a game about people who are already dead or half ghosts in some form (through societal forces, psychologically, functionally, literally, in body, through the joining etc.) coming together anyway to save the world from being swallowed by total nihilism and despair (symbolized by the blight) through the power of love and friendship and also this sword/potential heroic sacrifice that I found, da2 is a game about people who have lost their homes and been set adrift finding and building new homes in each other (while completely failing to save the world. also through the power of love and friendship. as well as years of petty bickering <3 we must imagine kirkwall if not happy then worth having been because the love was there the love was there and that's the only sanctifying force we can ever have in this doomed world and city of ours), and da:i is a game about old stabilizing-but-unjust comfortable lies vs. disruptive but potentially liberating uncomfortable truths, and the power of friendship to help us distinguish the one from the other and navigate through them...

folks… I'm starting to think that veilguard might be a game specifically about moving towards recovery and acceptance after trauma — about how even in this flawed, severed, scarred state, what is here right now is worth loving and worth caring for. even in an imperfect and impermanent world and self, there is worth and joy. and of course the first real tragedy — and threat — of Solas is that he just cannot find it in himself to accept this and move on, to let go of what was, the regret won’t let him go or he won’t let go of it. which means that even though on the surface it’s Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain (and the will to subjugate and violate they represent) who are the main villains, the real antagonistic force in this story beneath that is the Dread Wolf’s despair. A despair Rook must make an answer to by the end of the game, one way or another, compassionately or with righteous fury, triumphant or pyrrhic.

The world will change again and again and so will you — BUT the crucial element is that so will everyone else who exists along with you, you are fundamentally not alone in this existential truth. all we’ll ever have is each other and my god that is plenty, my god that is enough!!! Which is the second thing Solas just can’t accept, he keeps himself separate and completely alone out of an awful mix of fear and pride and feeling himself unworthy of anything else. Rook and the player want to save the world of Thedas because it’s where everyone we love lives, Solas wants to go back to the past because that’s the only neighbourhood where he can still visit those he loved — and the person he himself was, before. A very sympathetic and human instinct/trap to fall into when touched by trauma, I think, if only it wasn’t backed by godlike power, a fundamentally oppositional personality, and a catastrophic lack of therapy to make it literally everyone else’s problem too lol. It’s varric and solas’ banter about the man on the island and where meaning in a life comes from all over again, writ large and with detail work — and the added idea of ‘what if there are also other islands out there, though. With other people on them that you could find if you reach for each other’. Rook with the best of intentions has to make choices to which there are no perfect outcomes and live with what happens — and not cut themselves off from everyone else around them even when there is regret or shame. You get back up every day and you make a life with other people doing the same and you do your best, and that’s the only victory this world will give you. In the end, that is more than enough, that is essential. And I um. I love that. So much. It’s why some of the writing clumsiness on top can’t hurt me because this thematic spine is so solid and so beautiful to me. It’s DA2 all over again that way for me personally — I forgive this story for what it isn’t and couldn’t be, and I love it with my whole stupid open heart for what it actually is. Thank you for coming to my TED-talk and goodbye etc.      

(For my fellow TLT heads out there — you know what this story is reminding me of most of all, actually? It has some big Nona the Ninth vibes down there in the deep. It’s about… the horror and unspeakable beauty that can only be found in liminality, and the role of love in making that basic fact of existence bearable. And also even more unbearable at the same time. I'm so sorry.)

[monicaeidolith]

it's been 8 years and she's still down bad for her neighbor (who wouldn't)

and so there she is: Step 3 Athena! 🌙✨

Step 1 & Step 2 here

(Infos about Athena in every steps except 4 below if you're interested)

(watch out it's long.)

Step 1 -

At 10, Athena is a very curious girl, somewhat nosey and a bit clumsy (main reason why she often has bandages). She likes puzzles, creepy stuff and drawing (but nothing that serious about that hobby yet). While she isn't very shy, she's still uneasy around people she doesn't know and moving to a new town isn't helping. She has trouble accepting changes, and this whole situation is a way too big change.

Athena is very close to her mom during step 1. Unfortunately for her, she doesn't really look like her that much and she's kind of bothered by that, especially because the person she obviously looks like, her "dad", isn't there. Not having a dad isn't really a huge problem for her, but Athena fears a little bit people's opinion on that subject: "Is it weird that I don't have a dad...?".

She's feeling sad and scared about moving out, as she has to get used to a completely different world (in her eyes). "At least I have my mom", she thinks. But if moving in Golden Grove was scary at first, meeting Qiu and Tamarack was a huge help for Athena to feel included.

She thinks Qiu, aka "Autumn", is funny but also a huge show-off, haha. She LOVES to tease Qiu. But Athena's also genuinely worried about Qiu sometimes, because that kid is a huge people-pleaser.

When it comes to Tamarack, man... Athena totally puts this girl on a pedestal. She thinks Tamarack is amazing and pretty. And should Tamarack say anything positive about Athena, you can be certain the latter will go crazy internally. At 10, Athena doesn't realize she actually has a huge crush on Tamarack yet, though.

Step 2 -

At 14, Athena became a sort of troublemaker, she barely cares about rules. She's not mean but she grew to be more blunt and direct than she was as a 10-year-old, this and her current appearance make her seem unapproachable. However she kept her soft side, a side that she ironically doesn't even keep that much hidden but that you still have to deserve. If at 10 she would often have bandages because of her clumsiness, at 14, it's mostly because she's reckless. Some things that remained are her love for puzzles, creepy stuff and drawing, in fact, she started to get interested in visual arts.

In fact, the tough side of her personality grew when her first group friends with Qiu and Tamarack slowly fell apart. She couldn't do anything to prevent that from happening, so she felt like she had to toughen up. But to be honest, she's becoming tired of being the sole link between them, she's barely trying to now. Maybe Qiu and Tamarack won't become friends again. She has to accept it... but maybe Athena still has troubles accepting changes, no matter how old she is, after all.

Despite all that, Athena still treats both of them nicely. She still teases Qiu whenever she can (watch out Athena, the teasing could backfire on you). Her worries about them are still present too, but for different reasons than in step 1. Even 4 years later, Athena still retrieve Qiu's lost papers because they would NOT do it themselves. No matter what, Autumn remains her dear friend and the feeling is mutual.

Tamarack, aka "Tam", is her best friend! ... and the girl she has a crush on, Athena realized it now. Athena doesn't know if Tam feels the same way or not, though. Athena still thinks Tamarack is the most amazing and most talented person out there, she wishes Tam could see it too. She's highly worried about Tamarack potentially leaving Golden Grove at any moment but she tries to hide it from Tamarack. "Tam probably has enough of people walking on eggshells with her", she thinks. Athena dislikes Tamarack's parents for not only never being there for their daughter but also for making her situation so uncertain, only for their own interests (in her eyes).

Another feeling started to grow: jealousy. Athena will feel jealous of anyone who seems a bit too close to Tamarack. Does she think she's no match for Tamarack? Yes. Does that stop her from being jealous? No. She knows she has no right to be, Tamarack is a wonderful girl, it's impossible not to like her, but she can't help it.

Athena grew to be even more bothered by her lack of resemblance with her mother. Some times before turning 14, she started to dye her hair cranberry, just like her mom's hair color (let's say Opal didn't really like to see that her daughter started dyeing her hair at her young age, reaction Athena didn't appreciate, all she wanted was to look like her mom, what's the problem?). Ironically, while Athena wishes so hard to look like her mom, her relationship with her became somewhat strained. As if resembling a completely unknown guy wasn't enough. Living his best life nowhere to be found, uh? Resentment is the word here. Never towards her mom, even if their relationship is not that good at this point, but towards this guy who gave her his physical traits she never wanted and started to despise.

At least she became used to live in Golden Grove.

Step 3 -

At 18, Athena is not the rough troublemaker that she was at 14 anymore. Now she's more like a silly prankster, seemingly always up to something more stupid than before, although she remains reckless and blunt (but less on purpose and more out of habit). Of course, her interest in visual arts remained intact. Her liking for creepy stuff turned into a huge love for horror and its aesthetic.

Her relationship with her mom is getting better than it was 4 years ago. Athena grew out of the resentment she had for her "dad" during step 2 and learned to accept she may not look that much like her mom, but that it doesn't cancel the fact she's Opal's daughter no matter how she looks. Plus "some bits of [Opal] did end up in [her]" after all, right?

Athena's relationship with Autumn is what you could describe as "siblings by hearts", Athena does consider them as the sibling she never had.

Athena and Tamarack are still officially "besties for life", but little do they know that they both ended up falling in love with each other, plain and simple.

Her jealousy and resentment did tone down, but when she thinks back to her 14-year-old self, she feels bad, so bad. For being jealous of Tamarack's friends, for being resentful of a random donor and basically making many things about herself. "Man, I was such a prick. And for what?".

If when she was 14, Athena felt like she was no match for Tamarack because she put Tam on a pedestal, at 18, she now thinks she's simply not good enough as a person for Tamarack. She kind of "accepted" that if Tamarack only wants to be friends, then it's fine, she cannot force Tam to love her back. It's silly to think someone like her could be extra-special in Tam's heart anyway (girl if you knew.), it's nice enough to be her best friend.

Between step 2 and 3, Athena managed to put a label on herself: she's lesbian.

[justanotherignot]

For Dame Aylin fic writers/fans:

Found this in the game files and now I'm heartbroken. I always assumed Aylin breaks her oath when she kills Lorroakan because she says almost the exact words a paladin feels if they break their oath, but I, like an idiot, never even considered that she might be angry at her mother.

[satans-knitwear]

Don't stand up, just use your words for me

Please, p-p-pretty please?

Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[the-badger-mole]

"While I appreciate that you did that for me, I don't appreciate the fact that you nearly died because of it." Possible part 2 to the "Katara kisses Zuko to distract him as she pushes him to safety and sacrifices herself to get captured instead of him" little tumblr fic you wrote? Mayhaps?

Got this request twice, and I like this idea. @lollipopsandlandmines

Part 1

What were they waiting for? Katara wondered this not for the first time. It had been three days since she'd been captured. Three days since she'd seen her brother and friends escape in their stolen Fire Nation air ship. Three days since she'd seen the shattered look on Zuko's face when she pushed him off of the terrace. Three days since she'd surrendered to the Fire Nation soldiers who'd been hunting Zuko. She'd expected to torture to begin immediately. She had expected to be dead by now, or on the way to it.

After she'd been captured, Katara had been taken aboard the airship the soldiers had managed to keep. After she'd been locked in the brig, she had been more or less ignored, to her mild surprise. Maybe, she thought, they were waiting to move her some place more permanent. She'd spend the trip imagining the horrors that were surely in store for her when they got to wherever it was they were going. Boiling Rock, she figured. That was where they had taken her father. Hakoda hadn't told his children what he experienced at the hands of his Fire Nation captors, but there had been enough for Katara to heal for her to form assumptions. The though made her shudder.

Yet, here it was three days later (by her admittedly imprecise reckoning), and she was still unscathed. She hadn't been taken to Boiling Rock. There wasn't enough water around for that to be where she was, but aside from that, she had no way of knowing where she was.

Her cell was as dry as a bone. The only liquid she had access to were the tight rations that came with her two daily meals. Her cell's toilet was no help either. She could feel the heat when she squatted to relieve herself. She figured that wherever the pipe ended up, there was probably a fire burning, evaporating her waste as it came down. How many waterbenders had tried to escape this prison until the guards figured that out, she wondered.

The next full moon wasn't for another two weeks. Katara wasn't sure what her fate would be, but she vowed to be ready, if they made the mistake of leaving her alive that long. That was all she could do. No one had given her any clues as to what the plan for her was, and she was still certain that there would be horrific tortured in store for her before long. For the moment, though, she was being surprisingly well cared for.

On the evening of the third day, Katara was finally clued into why she hadn't been subjected to the torture she had anticipated. Azula was coming. Princess Azula had specifically requested that Katara not be harmed before she arrived. The soldier who had delivered the news had given Katara the most pitying look in spite of himself. A shudder ran down her spine. She'd heard enough stories from Zuko and Suki (though she still wasn't ready to divulge the worst of what she had experienced in her time as Azula's favorite prisoner). Azula was no one to scoff at, and without access to water, Katara was more vulnerable than she'd ever been. She was suddenly glad that she had no idea where Zuko and the others had gone. There was no chance that Azula would get anything from her, even if she did succeed in breaking Katara.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Sneaking into the Desert Tower prison was much easier than breaking into Boiling Rock. Zuko told Sokka that it was because this prison hadn't been built with firebenders in mind. It was a simple matter to bypass the security of the prison by going in through one of the massive furnaces used to keep the stone prison free from moisture of any kind. Zuko bent a path that was cool enough to walk through, and Sokka stayed on his tail.

"Breaking in is always the easy part, though," Sokka said. Zuko only grunted in reply. He didn't care how difficult it would be, he wasn't leaving that place without Katara.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Azula had arrived. Katara had been given a grotesque mockery of a preparation ceremony, where she'd been fed, bathed, and dressed in a rough sackcloth shift before being shackled in the room where Azula would soon arrive to begin the torture. Katara was on the verge of dehydration. She felt weak and parched. She longed for the sweat that usually accompanied the sort of anticipatory fear she felt in this moment. Why had she been brought here so early? No one had told her anything outright, but Katara paid attention, and she had heard the snippets of gossip in her prison cell. Azula's retinue hadn't arrived yet. So, why prepare Katara so early?

The door behind her opened a few moments later, and she tensed up, anticipating the sound of Azula's oily slick voice. Instead, she heard the sound of the soldiers bickering amongst each other behind her.

"I had direct orders to-"

"Do you know who we work for? Directly?" Katara had to force herself not to gasp. She knew that voice. She would know it anywhere. She'd argued with Sokka far too many times to mistake him.

"The message from the Crown Princess said very specifically to-"

"She did not mean that the prisoner should be here before her." The sound of this voice sent a pleasant chill through Katara. She knew this voice, too. "Prepared means ready to present when the princess is ready to have her brought in. Princess Azula likes to put on a show for her...guests. She would be furious if she arrived and found the prisoner already here.

"I-I didn't realize-" one of the other guards said.

"That was your mistake," Zuko growled at him. "You're lucky we're here to cover for your incompetence. We'll take it from here. Dismissed." Behind her, Katara could hear her captors murmur hesitantly among themselves.

"You heard him!" Sokka snapped. "Beat it, or we'll tell the princess of your incompetence." That was enough for the three soldiers. Once they were gone, and the door was shut, Sokka rushed over to Katara.

"Are you alright?" he asked frantically, but quietly. Katara nodded.

"I'm fine," she said. "They were given orders not to hurt me until Azula got here."

"That tracks," Zuko said grimly. He approached Katara more slowly, but with purpose. His eyes were on the chains holding Katara to the floor. His nostrils flared and his look darkened, but it was surprisingly the only show of emotion from him. He removed the pin holding Katara in place and helped her to her feet.

"Keep the shackles on until we clear the cells," he said. He glanced at her apologetically. "We have to sell it until they're not watching."

Getting Katara out of the prison was shockingly easy. Katara kept her head cast down, and Zuko and Sokka walked purposefully with their chins high and haughty. Had Azula arrived then, everything would've gone to chaos, but Azula did not arrive. She would not arrive for another hour, eager to make her grand entrance and begin torturing her brother's waterbender for information on his and the Avatar's whereabouts. By that time, Zuko and Sokka would have managed to get by all of the prison's guards and successfully slip Katara out and away to the relative safety of their airship. They would flee through the night, not stopping until the sun began to rise nearly seven hours later.

Miraculously, the only injury Katara suffered during her time as a captive were the abrasions from her shackles. She hardly noticed them in her eagerness to get water inside of her. Sokka and Suki celebrated her freedom with wild cheers and laughter made too loud by the anxiety of the previous week searching for her. Zuko was quiet in his relief. He barely said anything while Sokka had been eager to tell Katara how they'd come up with this daring rescue mission, but he'd stuck by Katara like a shadow. She could barely turn around without bumping into Zuko. They didn't have a chance to talk until Sokka, and then Suki finally drifted off to sleep sometime between midnight and sunrise.

"That was reckless," Katara said, frowning disapprovingly at Zuko. That caught him completely off guard.

"Me?" he sputtered. "I was reckless? Katara, you got yourself captured by my sister's soldiers. Do you know what she would've done....done to you if we hadn't found you?"

"Much less than she would've done to you," Katara retorted. "I did what I did to make sure you were safe. The Fire Nation needs you. The world needs you. As much as it needs Aang. Maybe even more."

"I don't care what the world needs!" Zuko snapped at her. "I'm not some pai sho piece."

"I didn't say you were." Katara sighed and sank to the floor of the airship. She patted the space next to her and and motioned for Zuko to sit with her. He hesitated, but soon joined her.

"I don't want you to think that the only reason I want to make sure you get on the throne is to protect my people," she told him. "I want to make sure you become Fire Lord because you're the only one who has enough love for your people and enough honor to do what's right by the other nations. The world needs you, Zuko. It needs your compassion, and wisdom, and honor. I would gladly do anything in my power to make sure you get there."

Zuko swallowed hard past a solid lump in his throat. For a moment he couldn't breathe. He reached out tentatively for Katara's hand. He squeezed it tight.

"I don't want it," he confessed. "I don't want it without you. Maybe you'll do anything in your power to make sure I make it to the throne, but I'll do anything in mine to make sure you're there, too. By my side, or in the Southern Tribe, or just going wherever you please. I don't care, as long as you're somewhere alive. I-"

The words died on his lips, and Zuko cursed himself for being a coward. But then she reached up for his cheek and made him meet her eye. She kissed him again. Slowly, this time, and lingering. Zuko had enough time to respond this time. He cupped her face, tangling his hands in her hair and did his best to pour out all the words he was still to afraid to say in that kiss. When they finally broke for air, Zuko had the satisfaction of seeing the dazed look in Katara's eyes. She held him tight, as if afraid he would pull away. As if he had any inclination of pulling away.

"Well," she said breathlessly after a moment. "I guess we have some things to talk about."

"I guess we do." Zuko let out a short incredulous laugh. Katara smiled at him, brushed his hair away from his face.

"Zuko, thank you," she whispered. "For saving me."

"Any time."

"I really do appreciate that you came back for me." She sat up, and the dazed, just kissed look faded from her eyes, leaving a much sterner expression in it's place. "But, I don't appreciate the fact that you put yourself in danger to do it."

"What?" Zuko sputtered again.

"Don't do that again," Katara warned him. Zuko glared at her. He started to argue, but she closed the distance again, and Zuko decided kissing was a much better use of their time. They could pick their discussion up again later.

[rorah]

The mentally stable Dimitri Fire emblem 3 hopes.

It surprises me that there's still ppl claiming so, but then I remember we're talking about 3h interpretations and I have to make peace with it.

But that doesn't stop me from venting a little bit in this little space I have lol. Actually, it dries me and makes me feel bad to bring this up because I will have to talk bad about Dedue, and I don't want to talk Bad about Dedue. He's a genuinely good boy. But "Human" nonetheless, which means Flaws. I like Felix too but he's become some sort of a clown that doesn't make me feel too bad. I like Felix tho, In a different way.

Mostly talking about these two because the take that "Dimitri has better support system" baffles me because, technically, these two are his support system in HopesVerse. The persons who Dimitri relays on and seek solace/advice/support. The rest doesn't really tackle any of his personal struggles (aside from the Mage!Mitri frustrated dream, but that's out of the bad equation in our 'mentally unwell' set of pixels, and Shez only has a glimpse). Contrary, to Houses verse where the whole blue lions cast knew about his shit, didn't know what to do, but didn't leave either.

I tackled this topic with other person on Twitter who was (or still is) on board with this take and the phrase they used was They contained him better, which of course I agree and remarked that was exactly the problem. Contain him is gonna be contra productive. I used a water dam analogy, where the structure of such dam is damaged, and the pressure of water keeps accumulating. Causing a foreseeable damage for the dam itself and the surroundings. You don't need to be a genius to understand it, you need experience or knowledge for mental ill topics tho.

I really don't want to extend so much on here because it's mostly just, rant format more than a proper analysis so I just want to point out these two things in their support conversations.

First, Dedue. Encourage him to keep on the vengeful path. Which we know was the final goal of Azure Moon and if you payed attention to 3 houses message. The whole Vengeful argument was something Bad, to keep it simple. Despite Dimitri actively looking for answers/guidance for something that, in a rational state he can see clearly like vengeance will consume his life (also Shez and Felix called out this behavior). Dedue answer only encourage him to keep on that path, because he would do that 💔. Presenting 2 oposite views is a great formula for confusion and disorientation. Now, Dedue's role is primary SUPPORT, not guidance nor orientation. He will support his shit no matter what, and we are quite aware of that if played Houses.

Second, Felix. Felix is a special case. He is smart but also an idiot lacks A LOT of soft skills to actually be of help. He's the only one who knows in this verse about Dimitri having a mental issue. In their A support to say the least, so they don't close or solve anything. What makes it more worrisome is the fact that Felix conceals the issue as a secret.

"So try to keep that whole "removing their heads" thing in check, yeah? We can just call it our little secret."

this extract here makes me feel so unwell 😭help

The whole burden falls over him and his lack of skills and wisdom on the matter will be too much for him later on. He at least, will be able to recognize that the problem is beyond of his capabilities and will look for help. Felix himself has his own issues and journey where he needs to learn. He's forced to get pass beyond some of his angry teen behavior but hasn't completely get over it.

There is a lot more to tackle, but that requires more work and time. What are the topics some of you think is important to cover around understanding the Hopes verse resolution? Dimitri's route? something? Do you think the route without Byleth is better? With that being said, I would like to delve deeper into character analysis, and the role each played for the Lords too. That also requires to talk about the Byleth and needs a whole analysis on their own, which requires time (which i don't have much lol) To end this vent, I would like to encourage people to do a little research for the terminology they're using like "Support System". Who makes it up and how it operates successfully. The fact that ppl saying "he has better support system" only because he didn't go feral on the run alone is not entirely valid. A reminder that people can feel alone with or without people around them. And containing the issue within doesn't solve any problem. At best, it's presented later. At worse, it gets worse.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hi! Your Hollow Knight AU has really cheered me up so I wanted to do a little drawing for it! This got me to get my art tablet out after months of not feeling like it so thank you for the inspiration! I hope the colors look good on any monitor that's not mine sdfsdf

Bugs In the Jingshi wyd?

I am so genuinely awestruck at how well you translated this AU to the hollow knight style! Also obsessed with the height difference.

[gazumirei]

the pressure fandom right now

[moon-mirage]

Katniss offering Peeta the nightlock berries (The Hunger Games)

Peeta offering Katniss a pearl (Catching Fire)

I like the parallel because this small thing changed the trajectory of their relationship/storylines so much. The berries allowed both of them to win with Katniss defying the Capitol when she decided against surviving on her own but instead saving Peeta too. And the pearl - it’s just such a sweet just-because gift for the girl who always had to trade and give things in return. And the pearl stays with her even when Peeta is taken, a reminder of the boy who would give her the world without expecting anything in return.

[nitw]

i found . the image file directory. so here you go have some siffrin (and loop) content

MEGA SPOILER BONUS UNDER THE CUT:

[em-purpled]

"what if kanadad dies for kana5" what if he has a moment of clarity. what if as he heals he gets a glimmer in his eyes of recognition and recollection. what if kanade doesn't lose ANOTHER parent to death and instead gets to have the hope that the one she has will recover from the cognitive/psychological damage caused by his burnout. (which is all it is by the way. idk why y'all insist that he's dying)

what then.

[hacked-by-jake]

I'm sitting outside. It's slightly windy. Not much. Perfect amount for me. And it gives fresh and clear air. I have music. And my thoughts are circling about moonvale of course. So I just want to leave a couple of spontaneous words. Just letting out what I think and feel at the moment.

I'm sorry, Everbyte. I'm sorry for all the hate. And I'm sorry for the amount of people being disappointed in your work. Because, well, there's still this little sprikle of hope in me. Of hope and disbelief. I'm thinking about Duskwood and what you created with it. I'm thinking about all the love we felt through Duskwood. You could see the effort you put into it. We saw the improvements and amazing ideas. Good plots over and over again. New ideas every single time. The quality was already amazing, in my eyes. Sure, some little bugs here and there, but nothing huge. Nothing bothering.

But all this. All things we saw in Duskwood. It made us believe you care about the fans. It made us feel like you hear us, as you said once. It made us feel so happy because it looked as if you're really doing this game for us.

And this.. My brain refuses to believe you really just want our money. My brain refuses to believe that you did, what you did in Moonvale, on purpose. My brain wants to believe that you never meant to make us feel this way.

My brain wants to believe that it all made sense to you, and that there was nothing wrong with it, that it was harmless in your eyes. In your world.

And because my head wants to believe in the good, my heart hurts to see how much negativity you get. My heart hurts to see the hate. And the critism.

But sadly, even if it hurts, sadly it's necessary at the moment to share constructive feedback about it.

But even that must be incredibly stressful, because there are thousands, tens of thousands of people who are currently pointing their fingers at you. And that must be hard. Even horrible. Awful.

As I said, my brain refuses to believe all this only happened because you didn't care about your community and you only cared about and wanted our money. I still have hopes.

And I want to belive you had the same love for Moonvale as you had for Duskwood. If I imagine.. You let your new baby out into the world with the hope of making people happy... And as answers there's nothing but negativity in any way. I have no idea how this must be. And I'm incredibly sorry for it.

And even if I'm completely wrong. Even if you really just wanted money, even then I still feel bad for you about the amount of people looking at you. Even then, although you would deserve it in this case, even then I would still feel bad for you. Empathy is an interesting thing. And parasocial "relationships" as well.

We see what we want to see. But I'm sure, in Duskwood, during Duskwood, we saw who you really are. Because there was no hint of what we saw in Moonvale. How could you fake what we saw in Duskwood?

I wish it wouldn't be the case. But you deserve critism for it. Normal criticism, of course. No hate or insultings. But feedback is needed. In our eyes.

And I just hope that there will be a solution. I hope the situation will improve. I hope so, so much.

Duskwood saved me in so many ways. And it's the truth. Not just a saying or anything. It did. And it gave me so much.

Maybe we completely got everything wrong. Maybe we understood some things wrong.

I just hope that a lot of criticism will be noticed and reflected and that you will find a solution. Because I simply think.. I'm sure we all want to play Moonvale. We all want another amazing game from you. Because Duskwood was an incredible game. A game we loved. And we also want to love Moonvale.

In my eyes, there's so much potential. And I really hope in the next episodes we will see more of it. And less worrying about money.

Of course it's your game. Do whatever you want. And if that's the path you want to take, go for it.

But I really want to say, you have an amazing Community behind you. And if there will be improvements and some changes, I'm sure we all will still be by your side. And we all will support you. This time, gladly. And not because we had to in order to play.

I'm sad. I'm desperate. I'm confused and overwhelmed. And..

I'm sorry.

For everyone. For Everbyte. And for all of us.

I'm sorry about this situation...

[cheesecake801]

Did you know 11/11 is Pocky day ? I drew something for this special day hehe

Bonus with Flint under cut

I think Flint would lose this one. Volkner seems to love Pocky a bit too much to afford to lose lmao.

And then Flint would have to buy him more Pocky (he should've thought before agreeing to Volkner's terms lmao). And as Volkner eats them, Flint would stare with sadness in his eyes.

Maybe then Volkner would share, so all is well that ends well except for the disappointed audience (but it's on them for being nosy)

[necrotic-nephilim]

"Can you two manage not to tear each other apart while I'm gone?"

Bruce, Jason, and Tim (With JayTim or maybe even BruJayTim)

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

god, this one was so good. so, you get the catch-22 of this being a bit longer, 4.5k, but with the warning, i have not edited it so it might be a little rough. but the whole point of this is quick fun so! this is basically Tim and Jason trying to kill each other bc they're under the influence of a toxin. both have a relationship with Bruce and are mad about it. it does end in some short JayTim porn and an implied BruJayTim ending. you could argue dub-con, but it's mostly consensual. enjoy <3

Tim honestly would’ve preferred if it was fear toxin or Joker venom.

Those, he at least knew the tricks for dealing with. How to keep his heart rate down, how to focus and not give in to his body’s adrenaline response. And even if none of those failed, the worst of the fear toxin was just something Tim could wait out while playing distracting music.

This was different.

Anger was different.

“It looks like someone took Crane’s compound and modified it,” Bruce, the lucky bastard who had managed not to inhale the substance, was stood perfectly calm in front of the Batcomputer. “It’s difficult to tell though without a direct sample.”

“If you would just let me look at it maybe we could get somewhere,” Tim hissed through grit teeth, aiming a lethal scowl at Bruce. His nails were digging into his palm. He frowned and tried to take a break. “I’m sorry.”

Bruce looked over his shoulder at Tim with concern and pity. “Are you sure you don’t want to be tranquilized until I synthesize the cure?”

“Bruce, if you try to get close enough to tranq me, I’ll probably try to rip your larynx out with my teeth,” Tim said. The itch for violence sat right underneath his fingertips. He was desperate for it, already twitching at the thought.

Logic and reasoning were hard to hold onto. Every straight thought Tim had was immediately consumed by the fire of fury, burned into something unrecognizable.

Tim didn’t feel like himself when he was angry. That was the worst part. He never liked his anger before and now, it was the only part of him on display. An ugly and twisted thing.

“He could just shoot you with a tranq dart,” Jason said smoothly. “I’d pay to see it.”

Jason was also affected by the rage toxin, though compared to Tim, he looked barely bothered. His head was tilted back to rest against the back of his chair, eyes closed. Both hands were in his lap, fingers calmly laced. His hands were forced together by the same cuffs that Tim was also wearing. Tim had suggested the cuffs when he tried to claw out Bruce’s eyes because Bruce put a hand on his shoulder. Despite Jason’s lack of reaction, it was universally decided to also put Jason in the cuffs. The handcuffs were chained to the chairs Tim and Jason were sitting in, with at least six feet’s distance between them so they couldn’t try to grab each other.

Which Tim had done at least a half a dozen times by now.

“If you’re not going to have helpful input you can keep your goddamn mouth shut,” Tim snapped, holding himself still in the chair from trying to launch across the room again. His muscles were so tense from clenching them that he was starting to shake.

“Tim,” Bruce said softly, giving him a look. Bruce was perfectly fine if Tim snapped at him. But when Tim snapped at Jason, he got a stern reprimand.

Which only pissed Tim off more.

He didn’t understand how he was fine with Bruce sleeping with both of them now. The thought was ridiculously enraging, how he could allow Bruce to even be around Jason Todd. It usually didn’t bother Tim, and was one of the things Tim accepted about Bruce. The lack of monogamy.

But now? Staring at Jason’s smug face that Tim itched to break? It made Tim’s blood boil.

He was more important and useful to Bruce than Jason could ever be. And Tim didn’t have a pile of bodies on his ledger. He actually knew he to behave like a person and not a wild animal.

Ironic how they looked now, then.

Jason’s face split into a feral grin. He leaned forward. “Yeah, Tim,” his tone mocked the one Bruce used. “Let’s behave ourselves.”

Tim could see it in Jason’s eyes. How angry he was, how he was holding back everything that Tim couldn’t. His little show was a facade and Tim damn well knew it.

He wanted to rip Tim apart just as badly.

Now it was Jason who Bruce gave the look to. “This is easier for you to control than it is for him, Jason. Don’t try to provoke him.”

Tim hated how he was spoken about as if he wasn’t even there. Like he was some hapless child throwing a temper tantrum that Bruce was indulging, but sharing quiet whispers about with the real adults.

Like he thought Jason could control himself better than Tim just because Jason had experience with the Lazarus Pit, making him less susceptible to anger manipulation.

At least that was the working theory, currently. Jason’s working theory was simply that he was better than Tim. It was when he said that, that Tim suggested the handcuffs. He had enough of his wits left about him to know he’d sort of regret killing Jason Todd, no matter how badly he wanted to right now.

Jason just shrugged at Bruce’s words and relaxed back into his chair, crossing his legs. “He shouldn’t be so easily provokable then.”

“You know damn well-” Tim started.

“Timothy.” Bruce put a command in his voice that he rarely used with Tim. It made Tim straighten on instinct. The endless patience Bruce had was getting worn more and more thin with every jab and insult traded between Tim and Jason. He looked like he was at his wit’s end. “Don’t listen to him.”

A slow, deep breath did nothing to calm Tim’s nerves. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood and then resisted the urge to spit it at Bruce. “B, I love you, but you have no idea how hard this is. Especially around him of all people.”

The look that crossed Bruce’s face was pained. They always danced around the elephant in the room, that was Bruce accepting Jason back into the fold a little too quickly for everyone’s comfort. It was his soft spot showing. Even when Tim wasn’t under the influence of a drug he didn’t like it and had tried several times to warn Bruce that Jason was a lost cause.

It’d caused a lot of arguments on their best days. Weeks of not speaking to each other on their worst.

And because Tim was the dutiful partner, the loving Robin, he always gave in first. Bruce needed him. In some ways, romantically. But in most ways, Bruce just needed genuine companionship from someone who wasn’t batshit crazy and murdering drug lords like it was a sport. That was Tim’s job. A job he liked, even.

Not that he was too fond of it right now.

They both knew, deep down Bruce had desperate wants of Jason and Tim getting along. The soft comments Bruce made about how well Tim and Jason could work together in a hypothetical always held an unspoken meaning. It wasn’t actually about Tim working with Jason on the field. It was about the fantasy of them being in Bruce’s bed at the same time, loving each other the way they loved him.

That would happen over Tim’s cold, dead body.

“I know,” Bruce said quietly. He reached out for Tim, then seeing the look in Tim’s eye, seemed to think against it and pulled his hand back. It only made Tim angrier. Angry Bruce didn’t currently trust Tim to give him affection. Angry Bruce was right not to trust him. So goddamn angry that despite craving comfort, all Tim wanted to do was bite the hand that fed him. A frustrated growl came out of Tim’s throat and he kicked the ground.

“You know,” Jason drawled, studying Tim with his barely contained madness, “I’m glad for it, honestly. I was starting to think you didn’t have any bite in you at all, Drake. Least we all know what it takes for you to finally snap.”

Tim opened his mouth for a biting insult, but looked at Bruce. He took a deep breath. “I hope all this self-restraint you’re showing is a lesson you keep when all this is over. The last thing we need is for you to go on another murder rampage because someone hurt your feelings.”

Jason’s eyes flared. His hands curled into fists. “Oh, you have no idea the self-restraint I show. If you want to see on a real rampage I’ll fucking-”

“Enough!” Bruce slammed a hand on the console. He ran his hand over his face and sighed. “I have more files on fear toxin in my study I need to find.” Bruce looked between them, giving them both a hard stare. “Can you two manage not to tear each other apart while I’m gone?”

“Ask him,” Jason shrugged. He was trying to sound nonchalant again, but he spoke through grit teeth. “I’m just fine over here.”

Tim just held up his cuffed hands, showing where the chain ended, keeping him firmly connected to the steel chair. “I couldn’t go anywhere even if I wanted to.”

Bruce nodded. He passed one more look between the two of them. “I’ll be right back. We’ll figure this out, I promise.” Again, he looked like he wanted to reach out. To which of them, Tim wasn’t sure. probably both, which sent an involuntary wave of disgust through his body. If Bruce touched Jason in front of him, Tim was probably going to puke. Bruce turned on his heel and walked out of the cave. They both watched his figure slowly disappear from view.

Before Tim could even turn to Jason and say something, he was tackled to the ground by a blindingly fast and heavy human body.

“What the-” Tim started, raising his hands to protect his face when a fist tried to come down on it. “How the fuck-”

Jason was wearing a grin that had gone completely mad, in every definition of the word. He had easily pinned Tim to the ground, a knee on Tim’s chest. Jason’s hands were still cuffed together but somehow, he’d undone the chain connecting him to his chair. Which boded particularly poorly for Tim, who was still chained to his chair, giving his arms a limited range of movement to defend himself.

Of course, Jason had picked the lock without either of them noticing.

“Thought you were the smart one, Drake,” Jason sneered. His hands were forced together, so when he reached for his waist with one hand they both had to move away from Tim’s face. “You really fucking thought I’d willingly hand over all my weapons to Bruce in a room with you?” He pulled a small, switchblade out from under his waistband and flipped it open. “I wouldn’t have even if I wasn’t drugged.”

“I knew you were acting, you fucking bastard,” Tim snarled. He didn’t have a weapon. It had been his suggestion to hand all of them over to Bruce because Tim was trying to be reasonable.

He should’ve fucking known better. There was never any reasoning with Jason.

Tim still had his bare hands. He launched them toward Jason’s throat. They managed to curl around flesh, nails just starting to dig in, when Jason stabbed Tim in the hand. Tim yelled, yanking his hand away and taking the other one with it.

That was the other shitty part of the anger. It made pain harder to ignore.

“Had to convince Bruce it was okay to leave you alone with me,” Jason said, shrugging slightly. “Figured I would only get one chance.” He raised the knife and tried to bring it down on Tim’s face. Tim managed to stop him, getting the knife tangled in the chains. “For fuck’s sake.” Jason shifted his weight. He pulled the knife free and brought up his over leg, using it to pin down the chain under his boot. Without any slack, Tim’s hands were forced against the ground, tugging uselessly.

“I will rip you apart with my teeth if I have to,” Tim growled, trying to snap at Jason’s face to prove his point.

Jason easily dodged and laughed. “I’d like to see you try. Maybe It’ll make you interesting, for once.” He brought the knife down and held it to Tim’s throat. “Grayson, I could’ve understood. He’s a pretty guy. Got a good sense of humor on him. Even Gordon. I don’t like her, but I could’ve respected it.” Jason’s face twisted into an ugly look, staring down at Tim with utter contempt. “But you? I have to share Bruce with you of all people? My goddamn replacement? That’s just fucking insulting.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten yourself killed then,” Tim shot back. “You were easy to replace.”

“Yeah, provoke the guy with a knife to your throat,” Jason pressed the blade against Tim’s skin until a drop of blood was sliding down his adam’s apple. “I’ll show you what a dead Robin looks like.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “You really think Bruce will forgive you for killing me?” He tugged at the chain as hard as he could. It still wasn’t budging. “He’d tear you apart.”

“Yeah, I really do,” Jason mocked Tim. He leaned in close enough for Tim to smell mint on Jason’s breath. “He always does. He’ll just blame it on the toxin. We both know he always forgives me no matter what I do.” His grin was a ghastly thing. “Can you say the same, Drake?”

Tim just growled. He headbutted Jason, not caring about the knife. If he was going to die, he would at least leave his mark.

Jason jerked back, rubbing his nose. Tim had hopefully broken it. Blood was already starting to pour down Jason’s face. Jason had the audacity to laugh. “Cute.” He rubbed his nose for a moment, feeling the bone. “You know I’m not going to kill you, though. That would be way too nice.”

“Nice?” Tim scoffed. “Did you finally learn the meaning of mercy, or something?”

“For you? Never.” Jason brought the knife to Tim’s face. “I just want to make you wish you were dead.” he dug the blade into Tim’s temple and Tim yelled, feeling it cut through his skin all the way down to his jaw. “What part of you do I have to mutilate to make Bruce stop loving you?”

Tim didn’t say anything. He was too busy trying to blink through the pain of a shallow cut that should’ve felt like nothing. Instead, it felt like a hot iron had branded the entire left side of Tim’s face, melting most of his skin off.

“What’s so pretty it could make Bruce like someone as pathetic as you?” Jason pressed on. He put another cut across Tim’s face, slashing through his cheek. “You’ve got a nice face. Is that it?” He leaned back so he could rip Tim’s shirt apart, exposing Tim’s chest. “We both know Bruce is a physical guy. Maybe it’s something else.” The blade trailed across Tim’s chest, looking for the next place to cut.

Tim managed to get leverage against the concrete with his feet. He pushed himself up as hard and fast as he could, throwing Jason off of him. Before Jason had the chance to recover, Tim launched himself forward and wrapped the chain around Jason’s throat.

“Maybe his love for you is only skin deep,” Tim pulled the chain as tight as it could go, watching Jason’s face turn red without oxygen. The rational part of him knew he was taking too much pleasure in watching Jason struggle for air. The rest of him didn’t care. “But Bruce actually loves me.”

Jason snarled. “He’s loved me longer.”

He wildly stabbed at Tim until the knife sank into Tim’s forearm. Tim screamed and let go, giving Jason slack to breathe, getting a hand under the chain and yanking hard on it. Tim didn’t fall off of Jason but instead fell into him. Their bodies were pressed together, and Jason used it as an excuse to wrap the chain around Tim, forcing them against each other.

“Can’t get away from me now,” Jason whispered into Tim’s ear. He ripped his knife out of Tim’s arm.

“You really want to be this close to me?” Tim asked. He tried to headbutt Jason again but didn’t have enough damned room to move. “Your fucking funeral.”

“I’m the one with the knife,” Jason said in a sing-song voice. He wiggled his arms between them and brought the knife against Tim’s crotch. Tim had his pants as a layer of fabric protecting him, but he still went rigid. “Is it here? Is this what Bruce likes so much? Go on. Tell me how he likes to fuck you, Drake. Bet you’re real fucking vanilla about it and he has to be all nice to you.”

“You sound jealous,” Tim tried to bite Jason, who kept pulling his head away. “You’re the one who needs to hear him say he’s proud of you just to come. I’m not the one of us who cries during sex.”

“How the hell-” Jason’s whole body jerked in anger.

Tim knew his grin was feral. “Trust me, I know all the embarrassing details. Bruce talks about it all the time.” That wasn’t entirely true. Tim had just overheard it once when Bruce forgot to turn off his comms. But the lie was far more embarrassing for Jason.

“I could make you cry,” Jason sounded angrier than Tim had ever heard him, which was a hell of a feat. “He’s just not fucking you hard enough. Putting you in your goddamn place like you deserve.”

“You want to fuck me, now?” Tim taunted. “I thought you hated me.”

“Too vanilla to know what hatefucking is, Drake?” Jason shot back. He pressed the knife harder into Tim’s crotch. “I could make you fucking beg for it.”

“Like hell.”

“You wanna find out?” Jason asked.

Tim paused his struggles. He pulled back and gave Jason an incredulous look. “You’re not actually serious.”

“Either I kill you, torture you, or bitch you.” Jason shrugged. He dug the knife down enough to cut open Tim’s pants. The fabric tore loudly. “I’ll let you pick.”

“I’ll kill you first,” Tim shot back. He refused to take the offer seriously.

He didn’t know what his answer would be, if it was a serious offer, so it was better for Tim to not think about it entirely.

“Scared you’ll like it?” Jason was just mocking him now. “If I ruin you enough, you’ll come crawling back for me instead of Bruce. And besides,” Jason lowered his voice to a purr, “we both know he’d pay to watch. Bet he’d even help me hold you down.”

Against his will, Tim shuddered. His anger was clouding his judgment, making it hard to figure out what other emotions were there. Maybe there was arousal. Maybe it was fear.

Tim always had trouble telling the difference.

“Have you always wanted to fuck me?” Tim avoided everything Jason was saying. It made him too dizzy to think about.

Jason just gave him a shrug. “Can’t say I haven’t wondered what’s so special about fucking you that he keeps doing it. Is your ass really that good or something?”

Tim snorted. He had no idea Jason didn’t know. “He doesn’t fuck me in the ass.”

“What?” Jason’s brow furrowed.

“If I had a dick down there, you’d have cut it by now,” Tim pointed out, looking down at the knife.

Jason frowned. He dug the knife deeper, ripping open a bigger hole in the fabric of Tim’s pants until he could force his hand inside, thankfully the one that wasn’t holding the knife. Tim tried to kick, but he couldn’t stop Jason’s hand from groping until it found his cunt, pressing against Tim’s underwear.

“Son of a bitch,” Jason said. “Well, that makes you even easier to fuck. Now I don’t need prep.”

“You’re not fucking me,” Tim snarled, trying to get away from Jason’s hand. his skin was too hot, to have Jason that close to his most sensitive areas. He didn’t want to know what his body would do if Jason got past the thin barrier of fabric between him and Tim’s skin.

“You haven’t actually told me no yet,” Jason pointed out. He managed to cut apart Tim’s underwear, a cold reminder of how close the knife was to his cunt. Thick fingers pressed against Tim’s hole until two managed to sink in. “You’re wet.”

“No, I’m not,” Tim gasped, even though he could feel it. The easy slide of Jason’s fingers inside of him, the way there was no resistance from his body. He still wasn’t ready to admit to himself that he wanted this. Not when he wanted Jason dead just as badly. Tim opened his mouth to say something more, but Jason brushed a thumb over his clit. “Oh god.”

“if I’m being honest with you,” Jason hummed, starting to move his fingers inside of Tim, “I think it’s a lot easier to be horny than angry right now. That’s the only damn feeling that works to fight this.”

He was right and Tim hated him for it. The anger thrumming under his skin pulled back, just slightly, to make room for arousal. It made Tim want to give in, just so he could have anything to latch onto besides cold, empty fury.

And Jason’s fingers felt good inside of him. They arched right up into Tim’s sweet spot, making him gasp and jerk.

“How quick do you think I can make you come?” Jason asked. He worked his fingers and thumb together, finding a good pace. Like he knew exactly how Tim liked it.

“Fuck you,” Tim groaned, throwing his head back.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Jason said.

They both knew he wouldn’t. Tim didn’t want Jason to stop. If Jason stopped, Tim would probably grab the knife and gut him.

“I hate you.” Tim’s hips were moving against his will. He was acutely aware the knife was still down there too, but he put a small amount of trust in Jason to not let it trust.

“It’s mutual,” Jason agreed. He shifted his hips until they were pressed against Tim’s thigh. He was hard. Tim could feel the outline of Jason’s cock as Jason started to rut, grinding against Tim for friction. A low moan came out of him, going straight to Tim’s core.

Jason was kind of handsome, at least. Especially with blood all over his face.

“Now are you gonna come for me or what?” Jason growled into Tim’s ear. “Show me exactly how much you hate me, Drake. I want to fucking feel it.”

“You’re a bastard who doesn’t deserve Bruce,” Tim whined as Jason’s fingers worked him. Rubbing his clit and thrusting into his sweet spot. It was a sweet, torturous distraction from his rage, but it still didn’t make the feeling quite go away.

“Agreed.” Jason shrugged, seeming unbothered by the statement. He groaned again, pressing his forehead against Tim’s. “I’m still better than you, though. You’re the little bitch who’s never going to forget what being fucked by me feels like. Maybe I’ll be nice enough that you’ll enjoy it and jerk off to it every time you’re wet.”

The thought of jerking off to Jason repulsed Tim. Yet it was the same thought that sent his orgasm through him, like a shock to his core. He yelled, so loud it echoed through the cave. His hole clenched around Jason’s fingers as his body worked through the spasms of pleasure.

For one glorious moment, Tim didn’t notice his anger. He just had the beautiful crescendo of pleasure crashing down on him, making his body sing.

“Isn’t that fucking adorable,” Jason gasped, grinding harder against Tim. You’re finally not annoying for once. No wonder Bruce fucks you. It’s the only way someone can enjoy being around you.”

The words were mean and Tim wanted to snap back, but he was boneless. Every insult from Jason was a new aftershock of pleasure down Tim’s spine.

Tim opened his mouth to find something to say, but he was cut off.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bruce stood at the mouth of the cave, staring at them with wide eyes. He looked just as angry as Tim felt, stalking over to where they were pinned and bloody on the floor. “Jason if you hurt him-”

“I’m fingering him, actually,” Jason corrected lazily, still grinding his hips.

Bruce stopped walking. “What?”

Jason thrust his fingers inside Tim to make his point, pulling a cry out of Tim. He was oversensitive from his orgasm and couldn’t get away from the pressure against his g-spot. “You should be proud of us. We’re getting along pretty well.”

Sure they were. Like Tim’s face wasn’t cut up and Jason’s nose wasn’t broken.

“You…” Bruce trailed off, breath caught in his throat. Tim watched his pupils dilate.

“He’s enjoying himself. Just came on my fingers,” Jason said. He pressed the knife against Tim’s thigh as a warning. “Right, Drake?”

Tim bit back a remark. He nodded.

“I promise to behave if you let me fuck him,” Jason looked up at Bruce. He was definitely lying. “We should both fuck him. See how much he can take. I’ll even keep the cuffs on just to be nice.”

Tim couldn’t stop the soft moan that came out of him at the thought.

Bruce looked between them. His eyes settled on Tim. “Are you-”

“Yes,” Tim said. “Please?”

As soon as Tim said the magic word, Bruce was by their side, taking his clothes off. Jason groaned in victory. He grinned against Tim’s cheek. “Now we can have some real fun.”