#rules lawyering my way out of a trap

[shittysawtraps]

how much creative leeway do you get with a jigsaw trap? like if you wake up chained to a chair and the tape says “you must fill up this container with fluid or you die” and there’s like, syringes and stuff that makes it clear that he wants you to use your blood, but instead you piss in it, do you win or do you die harder?

[cottagecore-moss-king]

Not so Artificial Intelligence

Inspired by This prompt: HERE  by @corkinavoid No beta we die like Danny and Jason. Do not steal, take, or repost my writing without permission, I do not consent to my art being used in AI training. 

Tim had just finished attaching the wires of the speaker into the bat computer for Betty when the speakers began to crackle. 

“What is this? Wait, can you hear me?” The voice that echoed out of the speakers was very distinctly not robotic, or mechanical. It very much had human intonation… and a mid-western accent???

The gathered family froze and stared in shock. Dick and Stephanie were here as a joke, Babs, Tim, and Bruce were there as the techies, and despite Damian’s protests, he was also standing besides Bruce. Despite the gathering of bats, none of them could have expected this. A few hands went to emergency beacons and cellphones, before pausing.

“Hello Red Robin!” The voice cheerfully called. Taking steps back and glancing around the cave at Babs, who stared at Bruce, who stared at Tim as he clicked his super beacon. 

“Betty?”

“I mean, you do know me as such, but I actually prefer Danny, he/they.” Babs pointed at Bruce, who looked at Tim, who lamely motioned towards Babs. 

“Who uh. Who installed you?” His voice was most certainly not squeaky thanks for asking. 

“Oh, well uh, technically no-one, I accidentally did it myself.” The screen turned on and started to glitch out to a camera. It eventually settled on the sketching program, which popped a smiley face onto itself.

“Who are you” Bruce growled, as he switched into batman mode. Damian was glaring at the screen and the rest of the family had inched into a defensive formation. 

The entrance door entered and Superman walked out of it. 

“What seems to be the issue B?”

“OMG It’s superman! You’re like, my second favorite hero!”

“Oh, uh, than-er” Bruce glared at him, with no idea of what this entity was, it was always a good idea to follow fey rules. “That’s very much appreciated. Who is your first?”

“Martian Manhunter obviously.” Betty, or Danny as they were now referred to as, began to sketch out something on the app. 

“I got into a fight with a technomancer. I figured I could just phase out but he did some magic and now I’m stuck. Very rude if you ask me.”

“Ah, I see.” Supermans face implied that he very much did not see. “So, are you a martian perhaps? With the phasing and Manhunter as your favoratie.”

“Oh no, I’m ahhhh….” The cheery tone died as Danny tried to find the words, “I’m like a spirit, yeah, I guess that’s the right way to put it right now.”

“Were you human before this?” butted in Tim. Now that the seeming threat had passed, (you could never be too careful, no shut up Nightwing he is not paranoid, just cautious) the family had relaxed their stance and Barbra had rolled over to the computer screen. 

“Technically???” 

Danny did not sound so sure of himself.

“It’s not a problem if you aren’t, you can tell that we don’t really care if you are human or not.” 

Superman floated carefully down to the ground besides Bruce, but without actually touching down. Perhaps he simply forgot that they were friends with non-humans.

“Tell that to the gov.” he snarked back, and that was definitely teenager snark. 

“Wait shit. No, no no no, I take that back, don’t tell the government anything, I didn’t say nothin’!” he gasped and staticed out. 

“What do you mean tell it to the government?”

“NOPE, NUH UH. I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING YOU CAN’T PROVE IT, I WANT MY LAWYER!”

“Alright,” Bruce pacified putting his hands up “Let me just call a friend and they can get you out.”

“Wait really? Where’s Mr. I’m so dark and broody tell me everything?”

Yep, that’s teenager snark right there, Bruce thought as his eye twitch and his kids snickered. 

“Sooo, how did this technomancer trap you, Danny?” Dick strolled over to the chair in front of the computer and flopped down spinning around in lazy circles. 

“Oh, well you see it started when…” Danny's voice faded off as Bruce took his league communicator out and stepped around a corner with Kal to call up Zatanna. 

“Hey Batman! What’s up?”

“We need you down in the batcave, some seemingly civilian has been trapped in the computer for a couple weeks now, and we’ve only just gotten into communication with them. They say it was technomancy.” He rumbled. He would have to suit up and manage to get Danny not to spill any of their identities, this just turned into a major headache to deal with. Batman hates magic. 

Once all of the children were suited up and Danny had been given an explanation, they were all patently waiting for Zatanna to arrive. 

The zeta tubes finally lit up with her arrival as she walked towards the gathered group holding her bag.

Halfway through greeting she paused, and stared blankly the screen. Everyone else shot curious glances, backwards, some more obvious than others. Did Nightwing seriously need to turn his head like that, he swears his eldest has bones, but sometimes he seriously starts to doubt himself. 

On the screen is a smiley face with a hand emoji. And a little drawing of a stick figure with white hair, green eyes, and a black suit. 

“Hello! I am Danny, I’m so sorry you had to come all this way to help me, I’d offer you something but I don’t even have a body right now.” One awkward laugh later, and Bruce wanted to have had his head in her hands. 

“I don’t worry, I can fix this. It’ll be a pain, but I can.”

While Zatanna sat up the spell and sent Kal out to go to Metropolis, (less suspicious for him to be buying things than Gotham), Bruce decided to stand around in the shadows while waiting to be useful. His kids, were off making friends with the strange person in the computer however. Laughing and teasing, he’s almost certain that Stephanie and Dick are trying to convince Danny to stay around and get adopted, despite Danny and Damian’s protests. 

After thirty minutes, Zatanna was ready to do the spell, and Danny was saying goodbye. 

As the light shone through the sigils written on the board and Zattana continued her muttering and waving, Danny added one last thing. 

“And I added a file of something for you guys to look at, please please please look into it! I hope I can see you soon!”

And with a final flash, Danny was gone, leaving the batfam without their lovely AI/new friend. Zatannna wrapped things up and Batman escorted her back to the Zeta tube with Clark, thanking them briefly. And with that, Clark and Zatanna left with Two flashes of light. 

Now, time to see what that file was that Danny had added. 

[butdaddyilovehimmm]

t's marvey fic rec list!

These are mostly smut (bdsm / d/s), fluff is in pt. 2 in the reblogs

Long Fics (50k +)

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What Happens in Vegas by LearnedFoot (7k)

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Secret Identity

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[marsprincess889]

Not all that glitters is gold

Style vs Substance

Why are Chitras known as "messy"?

Or gossipy? Manipulative? Chaotic? Deceptive?

Are they all bad though?(spoiler: OFC no👁) but why are they famous for being messy and triggering?

Note from me: I've expressed multiple times the chaotic nature of this nakshatra, and figured it would not be out of place to explain why. I think some ppl thought I had only bad things to say about it(even though no nakshatra is good or bad come on guys grow up lmao, i only have had good or bad experiences with their natives, and that's just my experience, others have different stories). And while it's true that I have had not great experiences with Chitra natives, that does not mean that it's inherently bad. I think you guys will get it once you read my point. So, I have put my personal "beef " with them aside for this one lol.

To start with, I want to say that all nakshatras have their place within the wheel and therefore, are all nessecary partz of the whole, just like the zodiac signs and just like every living being.

Nakshatras also are points within the whole journey. They are all unique, and while they relate to others in regards to certain themes, in the end, none are the same.

The chaos of the mundane

The placement of Chitra is very interesting. Each nakshatra opposes two nakshatras. Half it opposes one, the other half opposes the other. Chitra is opposite the last and the first nakshatras: Revati and Ashwini(one ends Pisces, the other begins Aries), marking it as the opposite end of that division point, ending Virgo and beginning Libra, the nakshatra that is arguably the most immersed in the material world. To make that point even stronger, its gunas are Tamas-Tamas-Tamas, the unaware/chaotic guna.

The sign of Virgo traditionally rules the sixth house. They deal with the "mundane" world, the everyday matters, the nitty-gritty, the details. Virgo is also the ruled by Rahu(and Pisces is ruled by Ketu). So, the material world goes hand-in-hand with the themes of rahu: the outward manifestation, anxiety, nervousness, paranoia and deception.

Chitra's symbol is the gem💎 the precious rocks that are sculpted and manipulated to suit the demands of society(6th house) or the agreements with others(7th house). Chitra is Mars(distraction, triggering, energetic output) filtered through Mercury(precision, manipulation, discernment) and Venus(love, beauty, agreements). It also therefore relates to the law of the written word(is that how you say it?), law in its everyday sense, like how defendants need good lawyers to argue and get all the details right, even if they're innocent, because this is not about "the ultimate truth", or who's innocent or wrong, it's about who wins the argument. And that's where the chaotic element comes.

Society has a lot of opinions, doesn't it? And different people have different points of the view. Chitra goes from the 6th house to the 7th house, so its task is to find out the truth in all the drama and bring a harmonious end to the situation, to achieve equilibrium. The trap is getting lost in all the mess yourself and not even noticing how much of your energy it has taken from you. In a way, it's about getting down to business while trying not to "get triggered".

So, that's why natives of this nakshatra have that energy.

I've also heard a lot of very opinionated remarks or argumentative expressions from Chitra natives(sun, moon, asc, ketu too) and if you point it out to them they will deny it immediately lmao. Tamas is the unaware guna.

The thing is that they have a great potential to see the truth in messy things, but often it's biased and therefore still far from the real truth(6th house, Rahu). This triggered energy, when channeled through harmony(libra, active venus) becomes an energy of peace.

The girly girls, fashion.

Ik a lot of this sounds like a teen drama but to me that's genuinely the vibe of this lunar mansion. Feminine/female Chitras also LOVE that kind of aesthetic. If not, they have a thing with aesthetics, and how things appear. They also isually love the colors pink and/or red.

All is not how it seems, and the appearance should be morphed according to substance/truth, because the truth can't be changed. That's the lesson of Chitra. Venus nakshatras love aesthetics in a different way. They moreso have an innate appreciation for all things that they find beautiful and develop a unique "aesthetic" that is specific to them individually, and they're usually not the ones who are concerned with "aesthetics" as most of the society views them, like "Parisian chic" or "punk rock", etc. Chitras tho, directly relate to those, they WANT to fit into certain aesthetics, and the personality of Chitra women(feminines) is often what people probably think of when they hear the words "girly girl". It's bubbly, snappy, moody, coquettish and sometimes ignorant. They, I've noticed, are very particular and opinionated(or they present themselves that way👁, rahu/illusion) about fashion and appearances in general. Again, the lesson is to fit the appearance to the truth of the matter, not the other way around, you can't really do it anyways. The truth always comes out, and it might bring drama, but the confrontation will happen one way or another, that's life. What matters is that it leads to peace and harmony. Until then, the drama is not over.

And so you gotta learn to see the good side of this: an opportunity to really sort things out, and to enter the sign of Libra(equilibtium, partnerships, harmony) with grace.

The sacrifice of the craftsman

We all know the lament of the artist, the eternal search for perfection that always seems out of reach(hi purva ashadhas). I think of Chitra more as the craftsman, because ultimately, its creations are nessecary for the functioning of the material world. In a way, this nakshatra is about learning humbleness and sacrifice as it's also associated with vanity.

The god Hepheastos in Greek mythology is described as a disabled man, and I've seen this archetype of the disabled craftsman many times. I think it's symbolic of the sacrifice for their creation.

I think everyone who has created or wants to create something wants appreciation for their work, and to know that somehow, it's useful. At their best, Chitras are no frivolous tricksters, they are the craftsmen, serving others, providing something beautiful and valuable, but that's not how many of them are or how everyone sees them. When you go to a jewellery store a lot of things might catch your eye, you might even be tempted to splurge your money(energy) on one or two of them, but then, if you are more mindful, come the questions: "are they really worth it?", "am i being conned?", "what if I find this or something better in a cheaper price?", and then you go through all the details of this and that. That's sort of the energy of Chitra.

When Chitras know the value of sacrifice and channel their energy towards harmony, they are on the side of truth and integrity. Otherwise, when you go that jewellery store, be careful to not get conned👁

[dotster001]

The Long Game; a For Tuna End

Custom content end, but takes place after the canonical bad end

Part One Part Two Part Three Choose Another Ending

Riddle remembers when he got the call. He didn't know how Grim even had his phone number. It was about four months ago.

“Now's your chance!”

“Sorry?” He was just about to leave his law firm for the day, when his phone had rung, and now he was stuck there.

“Y/N and the baker broke up!”

Riddle nearly dropped his phone. He put Grim on speaker and opened up his text messages. He was still very close with both you and Trey, having dinner with you both every Saturday. Often, you both joked with him about how you would adopt him so you could force him to take a break. Sure enough, both of you had texted him.

Hey, Riddle, so, Trey and I aren't seeing each other anymore. Wanted you to know before you heard it from someone else.

I know you were his friend first, but I hope you don't hate me, and we can still hang out?

Trey's message was similar.

Y/N and I broke up. We're still gonna be friends, nothing bad happened. But I wanted you to know.

Riddle watched the typing bubble on Trey's message space, and nearly threw his phone when he got the message.

I know you've never stopped loving them. So whenever the two of you get together, I want you to know I'm ok with it 😉

“Well? C'mon Mr. Lawyer! Will you be there tomorrow, or not?!” Grim shouted, clearly having been unable to get his attention for a while.

“Trey’s my friend. I can't just take his partner the day after they broke up,” Riddle sighed tiredly. Yes, Trey wasn't wrong. He never stopped loving you, no matter how hard he tried, how many people he dated, how much time he would stay away. But society has rules. He couldn't act on his feelings right away. It wasn't like you held those feelings for him. You wouldn't have dated Trey if you had.

“Don't be stupid, Rosehearts. This is your one chance. I have Ashengrotto on standby at any moment!”

Riddle held back a snicker. Clearly, that was untrue. Azul had been married for two years.

“Go ahead and call him, then.”

“I will! Goodbye forever, Rosehearts!”

Four months later, and it was the first chance he'd had to have dinner with you again. Grim was grouchy, slumping in his chair, refusing to do anything but glare at him. Your current tactic seemed to be to ignore him.

“Tell me everything! It feels like so long since I last saw you!” You said excitedly, scooping a portion of strawberry and walnut salad onto his, then Grim's, plate.

“I've been busy,” he hummed, skirting around the question. He'd been busy because he'd chosen to be. Between Grim's relentless phone calls, and Trey attempting to push him in “the right direction” every day since a month ago, he'd been being forced to face his feelings that he'd spent years trying to bury. Throwing himself into his work had seemed to be the only peace he'd had.

“Riddle, we've talked about this! You can't overwork yourself like this! Someone who spent a year in medical school should be well aware of that!”

Riddle rolled his eyes, but smiled playfully. “You sound ridiculous, right now. I had way more on my plate at NRC than I've ever have at work.”

“Maybe. But one of these days, I'm gonna trap you in my house, and make you take a vacation.”

That didn't sound too bad. Being trapped in a house with only your tender love and care to worry about.

“I'll look forward to that day,” he laughed tiredly. You seemed satisfied with that answer, and continued chatting about what you'd been up to. He winced, however, when he made eye contact with Grim, who looked suspiciously happy.

….

“So?”

“So?” Riddle echoed. He knew exactly what Trey had called him to ask, but he didn't really want to answer.

“So?! A little birdie told me you and Y/N are going on a trip this weekend!”

“It’s not like we'll be alone. Grim is coming,” Riddle held back a slightly bitter tone at that.

“Yeah, and for some reason he's desperate for you to be his dad. I'm sure he's got something worked out.”

“He only wants me so that he can “be rich” and get tuna. And because he was extremely bitter that you ruined his plans, years ago, and wants revenge on you.”

Trey laughed. “I think you'd be surprised, Riddle. He's an interesting little guy. I think he actually likes you.”

Riddle rolled his eyes. “Is it normal for an ex boyfriend to be this interested in matchmaking his ex?”

“It is when the ex boyfriend wants his ex and his old friend to be happy, and he can see how good they would be together.”

“Sure, sure. Listen, Trey, I gotta go,” Riddle muttered, wanting to end this phone call as quickly as possible.

“Don't forget to pack a toothbrush!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“And a swimsuit!”

“Yeah, yeah-”

“And don't forget to pack sunscreen!”

“Bye mom,” Riddle sighed tiredly as he hung up. He leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples. Why did he even agree to a vacation with you? It was already seeming to be more effort than it was worth. But he'd already said yes. And he knew you, and his coworkers, wouldn't take it lying down. The moment his coworkers had heard he was going to have a weekend beach vacation, they'd put all their effort into making sure he had no excuse not to go.

You, meanwhile, had already purchased and planned the vacation. You gave him those sad eyes when he was about to turn you down, and he found himself nodding along.

Two days. That's all he'd have to put up with. He could do this.

….

“I need my own bed.”

Both you and Riddle stared at Grim, who had an angry look on his face.

“The fuck?” You muttered.

“I refuse to go back to the Ramshackle days. I will not be sharing a bed with a stinky human!”

“Stinky?” You sounded mildly offended.

You'd all just arrived at the vacation cabin, and found out there were two bedrooms. You had been preparing to put both your's and Grim's bags in one of the rooms, when he'd dropped the bomb.

“It's fine. I can just take the couch,” Riddle muttered, already tired.

“No! This vacation is supposed to be about you getting some rest for once! I'll take the damn couch,” you growled, dragging your bag over to the very stiff looking sofa.

Riddle grabbed the handle of your suitcase, yanking it away.

“You paid for the beds. You should sleep in one.”

“I have an idea!” Grim shouted. You both turned to stare at him. “Since both of you are stinky humans, and Y/N was prepared to share anyway, you could both share the bed!”

Riddle's eyes widened, his jaw dropping, but you spoke faster.

“I mean, if you're okay with that Riddle, I don't mind.”

He nodded dumbly, and you took his suitcase, carrying it to your now shared room.

It took a second for it all to process, but what made it settle in was the exaggerated wink Grim was giving him.

“Word of warning. Y/N is a major cuddler!” Grim whispered, scampering off to his own room. Riddle's face felt like it was on fire, as you called over to him, telling him the room was ready.

He stumbled in, trying to puzzle out how the trip had gotten away from him so quickly.

“Why did we let him win?” He asked tiredly.

You sighed, then gave him a war torn smile.

“He's really good at what he does.”

You went to the ensuite bathroom, and before Riddle could process, time had passed and you had reemerged in your pajamas. You pulled back the comforter, and snuggled yourself into the bed.

“Aren't you going to change?” You asked.

“My clothes are comfortable,” he muttered.

That was a lie.

“Alright then,” you patted the space next to you, and Riddle gulped. He trudged over to the bed, as though he was taking his death march. Then he stiffly flipped onto the bed.

“You can come closer. I swear I don't bite,” you laughed, as he pushed himself as far to the edge as possible.

“I don't need much space,” he muttered.

“Alright. Good night, Riddle,” you hummed. You quickly fell asleep, clearly used to sharing a bed.

Riddle, meanwhile, found himself staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He wasn't touching you, but your body heat was fogging his mind. Your scent, as well, was inescapable, and sleep, inevitably, evaded him.

He looked at the alarm clock on the side table. 1:35 am. He groaned. This was never going to work.

As quietly as possible, he left the bed, and made his way out of the cabin. He wandered down to the beach, trying to clear you from his head. He stood near the edge of the ocean, and closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the waves drown you out.

Then he was sprayed with a wall of water.

He spluttered, choking on sea water. When he had finally recovered, he heard a voice he hadn't heard in years.

“Hey, Goldfishie!”

He groaned, looking out at the sea, where he saw a pair of glowing mismatched eyes.

“Floyd. How are you?”

“Same old, same old,” he hummed.

“Excellent. WHY DID YOU SPLASH ME?!” Riddle roared, making Floyd laugh.

“Because I wanted to. By the way, aren't you supposed to be making out with Shrimpy?”

Riddle's face went crimson. “What-”

“Y/N’s doing the same thing with Jade and Sea Turtle. The day they broke up, they started texting Jade non stop about asking him out. The difference is that Jade is so much better at it than you are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Riddle snarled.

“It means, Jade already bagged his prey. Like, a month ago. Trey sent me here, because he knew you'd wimp out at some point,” Floyd gave him a disappointed once over. “He's gonna be sad when he hears how fast it was.”

“You used his name…” Riddle muttered in awe.

“Yeah?” Floyd shrugged. “He's prolly gonna be my brother in law one day. That makes him family. But you're dodging the issue.”

Floyd fixed him with a glare.

“Do I need to take a transformation potions, and take care of things myself?”

“First off, why would you even help me? Didn't you used to have a crush on Y/N?”

“Yeah. So did everyone. The difference between you and everyone is that, for everyone, it was just a crush, which meant it went away. For you, it's love. Which is why you're too scared to schmooze them right now.”

Riddle sighed tiredly. He never thought he'd see a day where he had a reasonable conversation with Floyd. He sat down in the sand, staring off into the distance.

“They always were so happy with Trey. What if I never match up?”

Floyd rolled his eyes, slipping below the surface as he groaned.

When he pooped back up, he fixed Riddle with a glare.

“Do you really think me, and Sea Turtle, and Jade, would all be pushing you to this if we didn't think you were capable of making Y/N happy?” He rolled his eyes again, before splashing him with more water. “Seven's, we all used to love Y/N! And we still cherish them! If anyone can give them a happy ending, it's fucking Riddle Rosehearts!”

Riddle stared at Floyd for a moment, before a smile split his face.

“Floyd, somehow you grew up.”

“Ugh!” Floyd splashed him a third time, before diving below the surface.

Riddle allowed himself a giggle, before making his way back to the cabin. He changed out of his dripping clothes, into his pajamas, and made his way back into the bed.

He looked at you for a moment, letting you fog his mind again. His heart skipped a beat, as you sighed softly, then flipped over, wrapping your arms around him, and tangling your legs with his.

For a moment, he thought he would die. Then you sleepily whispered,

“Grimmy, you're so squishy.”

Riddle sighed in relief. His dignity was safe for now. You were just asleep. You weren't actively trying to give him a heart attack.

It felt good though. Resting so close to you. And he soon found himself finally drifting off.

He woke up early. He was always an early riser. But he was pretty sure what woke him up this time was your head resting on his neck, cutting off his air supply. He didn't want to have to wake you, but he needed to breathe.

“Y/N,” he groaned, gently shifting as much as he could with you wrapped up around him. It took a couple calls of your name before your eyes fluttered open, sleepily looking up at him. Then your eyes widened and you shot up, pulling away.

“Oh my god, Riddle, I am so sorry! I cuddle in my sleep sometimes,” you hastily spoke.

“Y/N, it's fine,” he said, looking away so that you hopefully wouldn't see how red he was. He missed your warmth already.

“God, I'm so embarrassed,” you moaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Don't be. Actually,” he steeled his courage, looking at you with what he hoped was a calm confidence. “This seems like a good time to tell you something important.”

You peeked at him from between your fingers.

“I love you.”

Your hands dropped from your face, your jaw dropped.

“I know you were dating Trey, like, a year ago, but-”

“For Seven's sake! Riddle! This is gonna make me sound super sus, but do you think I would have so quickly agreed to share a bed with you if I didn't like you back?”

Riddle stared at you, before swiftly pinning you down, a dangerous smile on his face.

“And why, my dear Y/N, didn't you say something sooner?”

You stiffened, realizing you were probably in trouble.

“Ha ha, well um-”

“My darling rose,” he hummed, gently caressing your cheek. “It's against the rules to keep your queen waiting.”

He leaned in, and the door slammed open.

You both turned your heads to see Grim, who's eyes widened with glee.

“Finally! Tuna for everyone! Riddle's treat!” He skipped out of the room, laughing happily.

“What the fuck?” You muttered.

“I'll go deal with that,” Riddle said, leaving the bed and stretching, before making his way to the door. He stopped for a moment, then turned back to you with a wicked grin.

“Don't think for a moment that you have escaped punishment.”

He held back a laugh as he watched you hide under the blankets.

....

A/N: dear riddle fans. I have gifted you the longest ending to date. Am I forgiven for making you wait so long for his happy ending?

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @savanaclaw1996 @kazumify @auspicious-lilana @dragontamer222 @mutegummy @justm3di0cr3 @dreamlessnight @avi-enderson

[thealtoduck]

Being the Riddler’s criminal sidekick…

Tim Drake x Male Reader

Warnings: superhero violence, implied child abuse, horrible parents, mentions of sex…

Summary: Tim meets the Riddler’s sidekick for the first time and finds himself quite charmed by him…

——

How did you end up as the Riddler’s right hand man?

Well, the answer was simple: ”Why not?”

You grew up in a rough household, your father was an deadbeat alchoholic and your mother had left him for the divorce lawyer and his house in the suburbs.

She left you, she left you alone with the man that she was escaping from, imagine the impact that has on a childs psyche.

So from then on you followed one rule: Trust no one.

When you entered your teenage years you escaped from your father as soon as possible on to the streets of Gotham. Which is no place for a child.

Soon you found your way into crime which also led you to the Riddler.

You were at a bar looking for a new job when you saw the Riddler trying to convince a couple of men to join him as his henchmen. They however were not convinced to join him though as they didn’t like the idea that he quite literally gives clues for the cops and Batman to find him.

You however saw it as an oppurtunity, Riddler was already infamous and if he was this desperate for help it might lead to you getting a bigger cut of whatever scheme he had come up with.

So when the other men left you walked over to the Riddler and sat down across from him. ”Looks like your having some trouble, what if i could be of some assistance” you said. ”Yeah, because a teenager is exactly the muscle my operation needs” he said sarcastically.

”Oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t see the line of people wating to work for you” you said sarcastically.

The Riddler then smirked and said ”You’re in”.

He took you to his lair and introduced to his henchwomen ”Query and Echo” who were dressed as what could only be described as S&M biker chicks.

You went on to become the Riddler’s own sidekick, he gave you the nickname ”Clue”. You had become his close follower as well as one of the only three people who could sass the Riddler without getting shot.

He even let you nickname him ”Eddie”

Though getting this job wasn’t only sunshine and rainbows, it put a bigger target on your back by the authorities. After a botched mission you were arrested and became the youngest person ever sent to Arkham Asylum.

Not that you really deserved to be there you weren’t a mass murdering maniac but your close association to the Riddler probably made people assume you were… that or the judge was feeling extra pissy that day in court.

While in Arkham you met both Penguin and Two Face who offred you a job but you decided to stick by Riddler.

And you were right to do so as he soon broke you out of Arkham.

Then it was back to work…

Two years later…

You, Riddler, Query and Echo had stolen valuables from a museum, that you, Query and Echo were now trying to calculate how much you could sell it for. Meanwhile Riddler was gloating about his genius riddles and traps he had left behind for the dynamic duo to find.

As if on cue Batman and Robin smashed right through the window landing in front of you, Query and Echo. ”Oh, Batsy and Sparrow, what a surprise!” you said sarcastically standing up.

”But an unwelcomed one at that, get him girls” you told the two henchwoman who swiftly attacked the Batman.

”Robin, go get Clue, i’ll take care of these two and find Riddler” Batman commanded his sidekick. The black-haired superhero ran towards you. You grabbed a baseball bat and pointed the end towards Robin. ”Been a while Dove, i’ve missed you”.

”Do you have a list of birds just to avoid saying my name?” Robin asked annoyed. ”You tell me Peacock” you taunted. Robin brought out his staff and you started exchanging blows.

He managed to disarm you from the bat with his staff. So you ran up to him and grabbed his staff and ripped it out of his hand and threw it aside and you continued your fight.

Your fight had brought you to a staircase and you playing dirty as usual pushed him down it. Though unfortunately enough for you he grabbed your jacket and pulled you down with him. When both of you landed at the bottom of the stairs, both of you were now twisting in pain.

”Not my best idea” you said to yourself you said rubbing your forehead in pain. ”You’ve ever had one?” Robin asked equally in pain making you glare at him. ”Can we take like a 3 minute break?” you asked sitting up leaning against a wall. ”Can’t believe i’m agreeing to this but sure” Robin said as he did the same.

Both of you were sweaty and breathing heavily from your fight. ”So… how’s your day been” you asked casually slipping a cigarette in to your mouth and lighting it. ”Your really asking me that?” he asked semi-annoyed and very confused. ”Yeah, why not?, want one?” You asked, offering him a cigarette. He shook his head still very confused how casual you were treating this.

Robin then looked around and stated ”Gotta admit for a secret villain lair this place is quite cozy”. ”Right, Query and Echo decorated it, my room is right down the hallway to the right, they helped me put together an Ikea bed”.

”So i’ll ask again, how was your day?” you asked casually taking another puff of the cigarette. Tim was confused by the casual conversation the two of you were having but maybe this would be a good distraction.

”It was decent, got a coffee, finished some work and you know now i’m here” Tim answered. ”Cool cool” you said blowing some smoke. ”How was your’s?” Robin asked.

”Good, i stole some stuff, it was fun” you said cheerfully and Robin gave what almost sounded like a small chuckle.

You then stared at him and asked with a cigarette between your lips ”Wanna fuck?”.

”What?!” Robin questioned loudly starting to cough from breathing in the smoke. ”Sorry, i just heard Batman gets it on with Catwoman so i assumed you know…” you said putting out the cigarette.

”I mean it’s not like that, you’re attractive and stuff, it’s just you know bad guy and all that stuff…” Robin said making you laugh. ”Yeah, it’s fine Parrot, i get it” you said while laughing. You then stood up ”Well, i gotta get going, bye bye birdy” and you started sprinting through the hallway.

Tim stood up to run after you but you pressed a button on a remote making a bunch turrets appear from the walls targeting him. Tim ran up the stairs the two of you had fallen down as they started shooting. He ran back to the main room where Batman was cuffing Riddler to a chair.

”Did you get Clue?” Batman asked. ”No, he got away” Tim answered disappointed. ”Echo and Query got away too, they’re probably regrouping” Batman explained.

They left as GCPD arrived to take Riddler away and Tim thought back on what Clue had said to him more specifically the ”Wanna fuck?” part, he found himself thinking ”What if i said ”Yes””.

[sugarwithsarcasm]

Was it so much for Dipper to ask to get to explore Gravity Falls without the forest throwing a complete wrench at him and ruining his plans? It was always either a) a massive threat that would harm him and trap him in the woods or b) a minor inconvenience that took way more time to solve than it should have.

But even Mabel didn't have being forced to marry a Gnome king (?) in front of his boyfriend who would just laugh at him on her "Reasons why Dipper STILL isn't back yet" bingo card.

Dipper cursed under his breath at the tiny gang of gnomes who cackled as they led him to the tallest building in their gnome village, (about the height of the absolutely ancient speaker set that Grunkle Stan refused to give away because “it still works, if you want one of those fancy bluetooth speakers either steal it or buy it yourself kid!”) pulling him along a loose vine near his hip, forcing him to walk past the gnome village, bound tightly by a bunch of vines after accidentally falling into their “wife trap” while trying to inspect velociraptor prints he had found in the edge of the forest.

“Wooo eee, boss yer not gonna BELIEVE THIS!!!” The white-bearded gnome who sounded eerily like Mcgucket knocked on the door. The door opened, the king gnome (?) walking out of his tiny castle, luckily saving Dipper the humiliation of having to crawl on his belly to enter.

“My WIFE TRAP!!!” The man cried out, doing a little dance, clicking his heels together in the air. “It’s finally gone and trapped me a wife!!” He leered at Dipper, smirking.

“But sir!” A weirdly buff gnome who he assumed was this gnome king’s (??) the bodyguard interrupted his happy dance. “This human appears to be a male!”

The gnome king (???) frowned at him, causing the buff gnome to cower. “You ain’t think I got eyeballs Jerry?! Of course I know he’s male, but look at ‘em, he’s feminine enough for me to consider him my wife!”

“ Excuse you.” Dipper scowled at the brown-bearded gnome, exasperated with himself for having screwed up on enough life decisions to lead him to being in a situation where his masculinity was being insulted by an elderly gnome. “Anyways, there seems to be a misunderstanding, I am not getting married to some elderly garden gnome, I just lost my step in the forest so if you could please just let me go-”

“Silence!” The gnome king (????) gestured for Jerry the buff gnome to kick Dipper’s ankles. “You will be my wife, I have wasted enough of my vines catching stupid phoenix’s and unicorn, I will not be passing on such a wonderful opportunity.”

Before Dipper had a chance to use rather colorful language to curse this gnome out, the Mcgucket gnome interjected, “Now, now, as the town lawyer, I must remind ya sir that there is a rule against forcing the victim of your wife trap to marry yer without the consent of the wife.”

Dipper was about to celebrate, but instead noticed the smug grin of the gnome king (?????), killing any remaining hope he had. “Well, well, well. You think I didn’t know that? My ex-wife’s failed attempts to murder me is the reason that their law was put in place!”

Dipper sighed heavily, thoroughly regretting his life decisions, “I wonder if I just fall forward if the impact of this castle would be enough to give me a concussion?”

The gnome king (??????) ignored him and continued, “So I decided to make sure that any new wife caught in my wife trap would consent to being my wife beforehand! Look closely at the vine he got caught in gentlemen.”

Jerry the buff gnome snatched the loose vine from McGucket the gnomes hand, squinting his eyes as he examined it, “By stepping on this here vine and getting stuck like a dinosaur in amber, you consent to be Jeff Geoff Goffrey’s wife.”

“Well bury me in the ground and call me a groundhog,” McGucket gnome snapped his fingers, “I’ll be darn tooting, looks like you’ve got yourself a wife who finally consents to being your wife!”

“What?! No!!!” Dipper yelped, “I couldn’t have possibly had read that, the writings to tiny! Plus it’s a VINE in a FOREST! I can’t be expected to examine every single vine I come across for an agreement to marriage!”

“Jerry,” The gnome king dismissed him again (no wonder he couldn’t find a wife naturally) “go send the Wedding Invitations to the Mystery Shack and stop by to get a cake on your way back, the wedding will be at sunset!” Jerry the buff gnome nodded and quickly began awkwardly jogging out into the forest. “Jason, go and invite the boys from the neighboring gnome villages – you know who I like and who I don’t – and tell them about my wedding and keep an eye on my bride, I need to start preparing for my big day!” And before Dipper could get out another word, the tiny gnome door was slammed shut on him.

“Ugh, this is not fair! That contract has got to be breaking some kind of laws or, or something!” Dipper sputtered, glancing at Jason, the gnome who gave him a blank looking smile.

“I don’t really agree either if it helps!” He beamed, as if expecting validation and praise from Dipper who merely rolled his eyes.

“Well you're a lawyer! Raise a complaint, find a judge to review the situation or something!”

“I would kid, but cases take ages to get reviewed by a judge around here,” he began leading Dipper into the woods, “I’m the town’s only judge, and I got a nasty habit of putting things off until the last minute.”

Yeah, Dipper was screwed.

---

Bill cackled as he ran up from Ford’s basement after the boring old elderly man had thrown him out for messing with his experiment. Much to this amusement, at the exact moment he entered, he saw Mabel speeding towards the front door and flinging it open, excitedly struggling to open an envelope.

“What’cha got there shooting star? Anyone died recently making you expect a big inheritance?” Bill casually walked over to Mabel, peering over her shoulder at the envelope.

“Nope! Even better!!!” She clawed at the sticky envelope, “I ordered a raffle ticket into the Bad Boyz 4 eva ultimate fan experience concert! My tickets should be getting here any day now, since Waddles already told me I’d win and that oinker of mine is totally psychic.” She began biting at the letter and finally ripped it open.

Her look of excitement quickly dropped to a frown. “Well? What’s it say?”

She sighed, mumbling how she was “too old to deal with this shit.” After a moment she cleared her throat and read in her best impression of a gnome, “Dear residents of the Mystery Shack, you are passive-aggressively invited to attend the totally not forced union of Jeff Geoff Goffrey and Dipper Pines. I still don’t like you, but I want to rub in your faces that I’ve moved on from Mabel Pines. Gifts are mandatory if you want to attend. The wedding is at sunset tonight, the same place as last time. P.S I attached a lock of my future wife’s hair as proof this is totally not a trap. Stay jealous haters.”

Bill cackled, “Man, what did he do now to get him all caught up by a bunch of gnomes? I swear, your brother sometimes even surprises ME.”

Mabel sighed and shook her head, shrieking as a lock of soft looking brown hair fell out of the envelope. “Oooo, do you think that’s actually Dipper’s hair and not like a Grizzly or something?”

Bill took one glance at it and could immediately recognize it as Dipper’s, “Nah, it's totally Pine Tree’s. I know for sure. It’s his hair color and has the same texture.”

Mabel gave him a blank expression, “That’s a little weird Bill.”

He laughed, “If you want to hear weird than–”

“Lalalalala, going to my happy place, pushing Waddles around in a baby stroller at Disneyland!” She singed, plugging her ears with her fingers. “Anyways, tell Dipper I can’t make it because I have a totally hot date with Pacifica today.” Mabel waltzed out of the room hallway and into her bedroom, still singing.

Bill grinned, he couldn’t wait to crash the wedding.

---

“Now I know ya might be nervous,” Jason the gnome lectured Dipper as he tugged him along (he had really hoped they would’ve untied him by now, his arms and legs were sore and his feet hurt from having to hop everywhere.) “But when yer on the verge of a panic attack cause yer so overcome with excitement, just do what I do to calm down, breathe, acclimate, relax and focus, or BARF for short!!!”

Dipper sighed as he turned to walk down the aisle, dressed in some makeshift white cloth they had draped over him that they called a wedding gown and a flower crown. He noticed a horde of gnomes, the only person he recognized was his boyfriend Bill who was grinning at him evilly.

“You look absolutely stunning sapling, I must say, for such a rushed wedding-” Bill started as he passed him.

“Oh shut it and get me out of here already!” Dipper barked at him, earning a tug from Jason and a snicker from Bill.

“Nah, I think I’ll just watch the show. It’s about time you suffer the consequences from barking up the wrong tree, Pine Tree.” Bill smirked and sat back down with the rest of the gnomes on the floor when Dipper reached the front of the altar, where the gnome king (????????) was beaming at him.

Jason the gnome held onto Dipper with the vine, but moved in the middle of him and Jeff. “Gentle-gnomes! We are gathered here today to celebrate the wife trapping of Jeff Geoff Goffrey!” The gnomes in the crowd cheered, Bill, who Dipper was staring at out of the corner of his eyes, simply raised an eyebrow at Dipper and then winked, clearly very amused. “To begin, Jeff, you may now kiss your bride!”

“ What .” Dipper felt his face fluster as he came face to face with Jeff the gnome, who had his lips puckered, making obnoxious kissing noises. He hoped that Bill would see this as the time to interject, knowing his boyfriend’s jealous streak, but much to his surprise Bill seemed to be trying his best not to burst out into laughter. “No! Isn’t this part supposed to come at the very end of the wedding?!?”

“Well urm,” Jason the gnome scratched his head with his free hand, “that’s a very good point. But as per the request of Jeff Geoff Goffrey, I decided to shorten up the wedding a bit, I got a surgery to perform tomorrow morning y'know?”

“Enough with the chitter chatter,” Jeff barked, before leaning in and cupping Dipper’s face with his grubby hands, pulling him close to his face…and then closer… and then bam! Dipper felt the taste of maple syrup as Jeff’s much too chapped lip met with his, he felt like he was going to barf, so tried to take a moment to follow Jason’s instructions to barf, but recoiled in disgust as Jeff attempted to bite his bottom lip.

The forest erupted in the cheers of gnomes, continuing even after Dipper had squirmed out of Jeff’s grasp. The second he broke the kiss, he sent a worried glance over at Bill, fearing that the his dream demon boyfriend would somehow be mad at him for practically cheating on him, but was instead very annoyed as he looked over at Bill who was practically dying of genuine laughter, to the point where he was wheezing and grabbing the attention of the very annoyed gnomes surrounding him.

“Gentle-gnomes!” Jason the Gnome announced once the applause (and hysterical hyena laughs) had begun dying out. “Before we concede and make this official, are there any of you who wish to oppose this union and agree to a duel against Jeff.”

Dipper smiled to himself as he watched Bill slowly get up, still chuckling to himself. “I have an opposition to this union!”

The room gasped, gnomes moving out of Bill’s way staring at him in shock as he sauntered over to Dipper, grinning. Jeff huffed and crossed his arms, “And what might that be?”

“You see, it just so happens that your so-called wife is madly in love with me, like, to the point of obsession.” He looked over at Dipper, mischief in his eyes, “Like, it’s very concerning Dipper.”

“Oh shut up,” Dipper rolled his eyes, trying his best to hide the wide smile on his face, “it’s about time you do something. I was starting to reconsider cuddling.”

Bill pouted at him, before breaking out into an even bigger grin, “and after having to watch your lame attempt at a kiss,” Jeff’s face began to grow red with anger or embarrassment, probably both, “I thought I’d finally entertain my poor little sapling and give you a lesson on what a real kiss is like.”

And with that he leaned over to Dipper, the vines binding him together disintegrating as he touched them. Dipper couldn’t hide the smile on his face any longer, and smiled wider when he noticed a similar beaming look on Bill’s face. Bill wrapped his arms around Dipper’s mid-back and pressed their foreheads together for a moment, before unexpectedly dipping him kissing him, the flower crown he was wearing slipping off and falling to the ground with a silent thud.

Dipper enjoyed kissing Bill, more than he’d ever admit to the already overly arrogant dream demon. This kiss wasn’t as emotional as their first one, as fiery as their occasional late night ones or as desperate and relieved as his heartbreaking ones, instead, it was comfortable, almost routine. The way Bill grabbed Dipper firmly, yet kissed him so gently and caringly, as if Bill was scared of breaking him, made his head dizzy. The feeling of Bill’s soft lips pressing against his slightly chapped lips, without any of the extra add ons and bells and whistles of kissing was bliss and Dipper was certain he could’ve happily melted right there in Bill’s arms.

That is, if they weren’t kissing in front of about 45 horrified looking gnomes.

The sound of Jeff clearing his throat broke the kiss between the two of them, Bill holding firmly onto Dipper and bringing him close to his chest, now in an upright position. “And that, my dear short gardening decoration, is how you woo a Pine Tree.” He said smugly, resting his chin on Dipper’s embarrassingly dirty hair.

“This-” Jeff stumbled on his words, yelling something in a language Dipper didn’t recognize (that Bill would later tell him was Finnish, because hey, why the heck not?) and then jumping off his little make-shift podium and attacking Bill’s leg.

Bill cackled at the gnome. “Oh you wanna fight? Well, my next move I guess HUH? Hold onto your cap kid!” He shook his leg, dropping Jeff to the ground, and then promptly kicking him so hard he flew above the trees and into the horizon, screams of revenge echoing throughout the forest.

The gnomes screeched as they saw their gnome king (?????????) fly off into the now starry night sky, with the exception of one gnome that just yelled “Shmebulock!” in a victorious tone.

“Come on kid, let’s go home.” Bill grinned, grabbing one arm around Dipper’s waist and snapping his other hand. In one quick, dizzying moment, they returned to their room in the shack, still entangled in each other’s arms.

“You’re such an asshole. ” Dipper tried to scowl and push Bill away. “Making me go through all of that. How I have the patience to deal with you astounds me.”

Bill laughed, “Ah, but kid, you should have seen the look of horror and disgust on your face! In my defense I’m a demon, these things are hilarious to me.” Bill pulled Dipper closer to him, nudging Dipper to look him eye to eye, their noses brushing against each other. “You knew this and yet look at you, voluntarily exchanging passionate kisses with a dream demon in public.” He pressed a soft, quick kiss against Dipper’s lips.

“Yeah yeah, I didn’t agree with the public meaning in front of an entire village of gnomes though.” Dipper swatted Bill’s chest, secretly relishing in his warm laughter.

“Aw come on kid, be honest with yourself, you’d get yourself in situations like these all the time if I wasn’t here! Don’t give me all the credit,” he kissed Dipper’s cheek, “your the train wreck in this relationship.”

“Excuse you.” Dipper frowned. “Anyways, I’m gonna go take a quick shower, feel dirty after being abandoned for a whole day from my asshole boyfriend-”

Bill snapped his fingers, and suddenly Dipper felt refreshed and clean. “Done,” Bill smiled, flopping down into their shared bed, “come cuddle with meeee.”

Dipper gave him a strange look, “someone’s extra affectionate today?”

“Don’t be difficult Pine Tree, I can still easily snap you out of this plane’s existence.”

“Alright, alright,” Dipper raised his hands, before climbing under the blankets with Bill, “there. Happy?”

Bill hummed in response, hugging Dipper from his back, leaving a small trail of kisses from his neck to his jaw. Dipper relaxed in the affectionate and comfortable gesture, the exhaustion of the day slowly wearing him down.

Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, he heard Bill whisper in his ear, “Sapling? This whole marriage stuff…the whole human societal convention where you brag about love and commitment and all of that other fake jazz done to make partner’s feel more guilty about breaking up..what do you think about it?”

“Hmm? Marriage? I think it’s pretty sweet actually. Getting to exchange vows and tell each other how much you love and are devoted to each other in front of close friends. I guess I always imagined myself having one and kind of got attached to the romantics of it all.” Dipper mumbled, half asleep.

Bill flipped Dipper over so they were facing each other. He could see Bill with a soft smile, a special smile he knew was reserved just for him, through his half-lidded eyes. “Sapling, my little Pine Tree, I have given you my demon form, my mind, my black hole of a heart and if I still had it I wouldn’t think twice before giving you my soul. It scares me how much I’d sacrifice for you and how much you make me feel…undemon to say the least kid.” He squeezed Dipper, “Maybe I haven’t shoved cake in your face in front of your sister, but make no mistake my little sapling, I’ve been devoted since day one.”

“I know, Bill. Don’t worry. I love you too, asshole.” Dipper mumbled, beaming as he began to doze off.

“I love you too sapling,” he pressed a kiss to the stars on Dipper’s forehead, before drifting off to sleep himself, “more than you may ever realize.”

Dipper dreamed of weddings that day, not a disastrous one, but a happy, romantic one, the kind he’d envisioned for himself when he was twelve and watching say yes to the dress reruns with Mabel. He knew though, that wouldn’t happen. Bill mocked human conventions constantly, and the concept of marriage itself was not free from Bill’s wrath. But, it didn’t really matter to Dipper if he was being honest, he was content where he was with Bill at that moment in time, he was happy with it all.

Little did he know, Bill had gone ring shopping with Mabel that very next day.

[romilly-jay]

Thoughts About The "Thoughts About The Expanse" Panel

***spoilers, natch***

This was one of the sessions I actively wanted to go to but Managing Worldcon Life got in the way. (If I've reconstructed correctly - never certain!- this session was on the same day as the big Worldcon philharmonic concert and immediately before it? If that's right - in theory, it should have been possible to do both, one straight after the other, BUT in reality, this hour got eaten up in queueing time.

So, delighted to find it in the replays and an early priority to listen to - and very glad I did, if mainly to feel the waves of joy and affection rising as I was reminded how VERY MUCH I loved this show*.

*Yes, I know that The Expanse is also an impressive series of novels and novellas as well, but I have mostly - not read these. Yet. They are firmly IN my TBR but as with Worldcon, life has so far Intervened.

=========================================

Right, I'd written the bits above and below the === then got called away [dinner awaits no blogging, dahlings] and then... forgot to return - so the middle segment was NEARLY just the following:

Some of the panel content here.

But - hurrah - started on the next blog and wanted to link it to what that clever Caroline Mersey said about it, only to discover that... she said nothing (as reported here). Oops and - corrected.

In fact almost all of the next part is CM's pitch for why The Expanse is the greatest TV SF series of the 21st century // worldcon Aug 2024

Her pitch revolved around the treatment of sexuality and gender:

This show is the most progressive recent SFF show, particularly in the way it queers gender and sexuality in ways we rarely see on TV.

The power is how it normalises and embeds its treatment. It has poly relationships – almost unheard of in commercial productions. Holden’s family of origin. It’s not just about the tax breaks. Drummer’s crew of space pirates. More complex than a traditional love triangle (tho Draomi is a canon relationship YAY.) This is a show that consistently queers and interrogates expected gender roles. Bobby Draper: not sexualised, not all-powerful, seeks help. Peaches: classic tale of angry superhero on a revenge trip who earns her redemption. Drummer: uber-competent but also with brittle edges.

The exception to the excellence is Julie Mao – the fetishised object of a middle aged white guy’s obsession. CM comments that book one was pretty standard male-oriented SF – very blokey, testosterone-fuelled – but complimented the two writers for how they responded to receiving that feedback, gender flipping certain characters from book two onwards and allowing the story to unfold as it did.

CM's summary of what she loves about the show is made with reference to the final three episodes of S5:

The story around Naomi’s resilience – her desperate determination to save the Roci from Inaros’s trap – we don’t breathe until she does again – amazing engineering ingenuity – while she’s trying to send a signal and break the trap. We have Amos and Peaches and their hugely daring escape from Earth. Avasarala’s coup. Drummer’s torn loyalties – but we’ve also got: how you best deal with your sex pest cast member by writing them out in a way that respects the character but conclusively rules out a return. Those episodes exemplify the most striking and my favourite things about the series.

There was really only one point I *really* wanted to grab from the rest of the session and I *believe* it was lawyer Wes Rist who made it:

Noting the benefit to the quality of the story - its complexity, its ambiguity, the kinks away from expected narratives - that they had several “goes” at it. The role playing game. The books (and novellas filling out the world between the main stories). And then the show.

=========================================

Finishing up by I'm listing out the panel members, incl their varied backgrounds, along with a sort-of-summary of what they said about themselves. To me, this is synecdochal (??) of the identity and value-set of the series and the quality of its appeal i.e. appeals to and relevant to, well, lots of people but almost certainly including:

people who are interested in politics and/or international relations and/or Marxism and/or debating between different philosophies;

people who like hard science and realistic space battles - slash - pouring of liquids in zero G;

people who want to imagine human futures across and within the solar system and the social - slash - economic - slash - politics impacts and implications involved in becoming a bi-planetary species and/or a multi-space location capitalist construct; and

people who want to imagine alternative gendered futures.

[Also, people who think about the Roman empire alot. Perhaps daily.]

These, then, are the panellists:

Sven von Vittorelli is a conservation biologist from Germany, who told the room that his day job is often filled with frustration, with the sense of coming up against the boundaries of what's possible, and so chooses to enrich his life through engaging with science fiction.

[Writing - he's working on the first novel in a hard SF series, which appealed to me immediately because it namechecks Shackleton in the title, Shackleton Ridge. And as a fan - he won me over again by naming Firefly and Battlestar Galactica as series he loved on the way to becoming a fan of The Expanse.]

Wes Rist is an international human rights lawyer whose day job involves working on genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity - clearly, seriously heavy, and also, deeply relevant to the political context, themes and developments of The Expanse series.

[He clarified, of course, that his views expressed here, are personal - he's working in some capacity for the US government but not speaking for his employer HERE.]

Bob Hranek has a tech background, initially for the US Airforce (5 yrs), then for the US min of defence (35 years) focused on aerospace systems - he pointed out that any views expressed were his own and not those of his employer (prompting the same from WR).

He joked that given his background he would generally, in the context of The Expanse, be expected to be representing [Evil! Tech! And Weapons! Giant!] Protogen.

Caroline Mersey is a cos player and book nerd and organises lots of book events in her spare time, including the 'Super Relaxed Fantasy Bookclub' - every second Tuesday in London. [Must attempt to go...]

And the panel moderator, Michael Pea, is senior writer at Friends of Comic Con and self-declared *uberfan* of The Expanse.

[transmutationisms]

I have to ask, how do you feel about the nihilism of the writing behind the show? Specifically about the ways people can’t truly ever change? (This is a bit broad sorry)

yeah i talked about this some the other day. like, my communist opinion is that the roys couldn't change because they were trapped within (choosing to stay within) the same set of circumstances, namely capitalism and the attempt to build an empire. even at the very end, losing waystar wasn't a choice any of them made to try to 'get out', and even if it had been, they still would have been operating within the ruling capitalist ontology, because capitalism is much larger than this one corporation. tbc, everything jesse armstrong has said makes me think his cynicism is different than mine: he thinks people are just intrinsically unable to change. i disagree with that; people have the capacity for radical alteration, and the oppression of capitalism will never succeed in eliminating human agency. but, as a story of people who are raised to treat the world like a market, and who continue to choose to do that as fully autonomous adults, i don't really have a problem with succession portraying them as stagnating. if anything, it would have really annoyed me if they were somehow able to self-actualise whilst still choosing waystar and profit and exploitation every single day. if you wanted to commie it up you could make one of them actually try to challenge capitalism (the closest we get is ewan's lawyer, who is doing this by trying to use the capitalist legal apparatus to his advantage, which is really just poking fun at petit-bourgeois) or you could write a story in which the pov characters are not billionaires running a family empire.

[thatdesklamp]

Writing advice from la lamp de desk

Summary of my tip-top writing tips:

‘Said’ is your best friend; avoid adverbs, you don’t need them; never use adjectives instead of someone’s name; avoid clichés like the plague; don’t mix metaphors; use the Emotion Thesaurus; just practise, all the time, and you’ll get better.

(I also feel the need to say that I was asked for writing tips on multiple occasions--I am not this wanky and conceited to offer this unsolicited)

Dialogue

‘Said’ is your best friend. You do not need to use other ‘dialogue verbs’ (shouted/explained/whispered/replied) as much as you think you do. ‘Said’ is like proper punctuation; it blends in and you don’t notice it… unless it’s not there. Use ‘said’ all the time, because your reader will not notice it. The reader always notices other ‘dialogue verbs’ (they stick out and draw the reader’s attention quite a lot) and so overuse of them becomes confusing. Often, too, people can use them redundantly, especially if the reader can figure out the character’s tone from the rest of the scene. For example: if Sally has just realised Mark has been cheating on her, you really can just have her say: “I hate you!”. You don’t have to write: “I hate you!” Sally shouted. The reader gets it.

An exception to this rule is often said to be when the dialogue verb (the ones that ‘stick out’) provide more detail. For example, if the scene with Sally and Mark was very tense and heated, the reader expects the “I hate you” to be shouted, and said viciously. Of course! Context clues. If instead, you write: “I hate you,” Sally whispered.”, then suddenly the words takes on a whole new meaning. It’s something unexpected! The ‘whispered’ verb was necessary, when the ‘shouted’ verb was unnecessary. ‘Whispered’ stands out, but it stands out for a reason.

(As with all writing ‘rules’, there are no rules, and this doesn’t mean you cannot use other dialogue verbs: I do, all the time. It’s just important to remember that you can use ‘said’ much more than you think, which allows you to use other dialogue verbs judiciously, and not unnecessarily.)

(Here’s a full post I made about dialogue going into more detail with more advice)

Adverbs

Avoid adverbs, you don’t need them. It’s often said that adverbs are unnecessary because they can always be replaced by something better. It’s a common trap to add them on to a word redundantly, when a stronger, single word would be a better fit: why say ‘walked clumsily’ when you could say ‘stumbled’, etc. Another common saying is that adverbs are used to tell and not show: why say ‘he spoke nervously’ when you could say ‘his voice trembled’. Also, see my section on the emotion thesaurus for more detail on this ‘show not tell’ idea.

(This doesn’t mean you can’t use adverbs; simply recognise that, potentially, there is a better and stronger way to write that one sentence that, likely, doesn’t include an adverb.)

(There will be a silent disclaimer like this for every section, but I can’t be arsed to write one every time, so just remember that there are no hard and fast rules in writing, but it’s good to be aware of the general rules, so you can choose to break them when it works well).

Names and adjectives

Never use adjectives instead of someone’s name. Please, please, 99% of the time you never ever have to do this. Someone’s name is like ‘said’; it blends in, and the reader doesn’t notice it, so you really don’t have to worry about overusing it as much as you feel you should be. Some writers will use adjectives in place of someone’s name because they’ve heard the rules against repeating words: they’ll instead write ‘The brunette hummed’ or ‘The older said’ or ‘The lawyer considered’, etc etc.

The issue? Why does the reader need to know this?! You are introducing new information to the reader, and they do not need to know it! The reader does not need to know that the character has brown hair, and, in fact, it doesn’t make any sense within the context of the scene to draw their attention to the character’s hair colour. Why do we need to know? The answer: we don’t. At all. All this does is interrupt the flow of the scene, and make the reader’s brain stumble a little. It feels clunky—you do not need to do this! I see it all the time (often when the two main characters are the same gender and use the same pronouns, and the author is struggling to show the reader who’s doing what). It’s a real pet peeve of mine—just use the character’s name! Or use a pronoun! It’s okay!

The only time this should be used is, similar to the ‘said’ rule, if you are intentionally drawing the reader’s attention to the information you are introducing via the ‘name-substitute adjective’, but this would be a pretty rare occurrence. E.g., Johanna is a high-flying lawyer, but is currently giving out really really poor advice to a friend of hers. Using ‘the lawyer’ instead of her name ‘Johanna’ would remind the reader of her profession, and could serve as something mildly comedic.

Clichés

Avoid clichés like the plague. This is explained really really well in the video, ‘How to Bore your Audience’ by the YouTube channel, The Closer Look. To summarise: when I talk about clichés, I’m talking about the writing phrases or situations that have been so widely said and used and overdone that they no longer generate and effect in the reader. Idioms (turns of phrase, expressions) count here, too. The video gives a really good example: ‘He looked like a deer in headlights’. When you read the phrase, you don’t think of what the simile is intended to convey; the wide-eyed look of fear, the franticness of the car swerving, the horror of innocence being slaughtered, etc. You just think: oh, yeah, they’re probably scared, or whatever. Clichés don’t work as a literary technique, because they don’t affect the reader in any decent way: they just tell the reader what they should know, rather than show them. (Watch the video: there’s loads more detail there, and it’s fab.)

Metaphors

Don’t mix metaphors. This ties in with clichés, when people don’t realise they’re using clichés, or turns of phrases/idioms. Using more than one metaphor in a sentence, when the metaphors have contrasting meanings or use contrasting analogies, can be confusing and won’t generate a clear image in the reader’s head. Good example adapted from Daily Writing Tips: “The pastor warned of impending danger lurking just beneath the surface, which had been hanging over the town’s heads in recent years.” So, first, the danger ‘lurking just beneath the surface’: you’re imagining that, with all the sinister images like murky water, the close-to immediate threat, the danger rising up to meet you… and then, suddenly, it’s above you, and the metaphor’s been switched, and it’s very confusing and the reader is jarred. Not fun, not fun.

The Emotion Thesaurus and ‘show-don’t-tell’

The Emotion Thesaurus is the new love of your life. Most budding authors have heard of the ‘show-don’t-tell’ rule. Don’t ‘tell’ your reader that a character is upset, ‘show’ them; it’s less impactful to say ‘Chloe was smug’ than to say ‘Chloe’s lips curled into a smirk, her chin jutting out’. Etc etc. But how do we think of all of these ‘show’ phrases? How do we remember how humans actually… behave?

USE THE EMOTION THESAURUS! Linked here, it gives loads of body language etc. examples that are so so helpful as a jumping-off point for how to express emotions.

The website, One Stop for Writers, is just a general godsend. There are also masterlists of character motivations, positive and negative traits, and billions of checklists and worksheets and ticksheets. Take some time off and just scour it: it’s the best thing ever, trust me.

Just practise, man.

Nothing comes naturally. I’ve been writing for years and years and, since I’ve been publishing on ao3, I can literally see how I’ve improved over the course writing IW. You will get better, and you will write faster (when I first started, it took me multiple hours to write one page), and you just need to write more. That is it: that is the only way to improve. You don’t need to publish anything if you don’t want to: write for yourself and yourself only! I still abide by this, to be honest; I know I’d be able to get loads more interaction with IW if I published quickly and regularly, but I would end up seeing writing as a chore, and as something solely for the readers, rather than as something that I genuinely enjoy and do as a hobby alongside everything going on in my real-person life.

Just work at it. Do it for enjoyment, and don’t worry if it’s bad. It might genuinely be bad: but everyone’s was, at the beginning. No-one starts off being amazing. Everyone keeps improving; I know I am, and I know loads of things that I need to improve at, and so I’m going to keep on writing and I’ll trust that I’ll get better with practise.

Just write. Please please please, just write.

[zigmenthotep]

Someone posted in the comments on my video on the topic about not being able to find the "44 rules for dnd" since the original posts were deleted, and I honestly couldn't even find the Twitter post I got them from originally. So I've transcribed them to Tumblr where they can live forever with all the other trash!

Context: Posted to r/dndhorrorstories May 25, 2024

My dm laid out the 44 rules for dnd 

My dm just posted this after a hiatus, enjoy:

I'll just put shit out now thats going to change before anyone goes through with anything:

I'm timing turns. I don't give a fuck of it’s unfair in your opinion cause your spells are hard or you don't know what square to move to. you get 1 minute to know all the actions you want to take or I skip your turn.

If you want harder fights, bring a second character sheet and expect to twiddle your thumbs when you die. I'm not going to baby anyone.

If you call me or my rolls unfair, I'll get up and go home. and if you got a ride with me you can find your own way back and suck it up.

I'm going to take your characters loot away as regularly as you want it given out. Rule 3 will apply here.

If you don't act out any of your persuasion or intimidation or any other social checks you fail, before you even roll. You fail immediately because you aren't even trying and you're making the game lame for everyone else.

If you don't pick up cues for "side quests" that's not my problem. Get over yourself, it's not a video game, it's a role playing pen and paper based game with miniatures. I'm not holding your hand if you choose not to pursue shit.

If you move to a square in combat there's no take backs.

You tell every single person what you're doing before you do it. You don't fucking roll dice and then say you're casting fireball. You tell us all.

I will give out exhaustion more frequently. If you argue, go home or you can actually fight me over it or you can dm yourself.

Every snide comment you make to an npc will be remembered and paid back in triplicate. You all seem to believe there is little consequence.

You will not be given a mega dungeon every session. A temple is not the size of a small city, neither is a cave. This shit will happen when it's natural and organic. Go play some roguelike if you want that.

The travel portion is done. You wanna travel continents doing literally whatever you want whenever you want? Go play world of Warcraft or play dnd with chat gpt.

If you're late with no good reason I'm going to halve your characters hit points for the entire session.

If you don't show up for no good reason, and that will be determined by me alone if no one else has the guts to say shit for fear of upsetting one another, the first time you'll find yourself losing either a whole level or up to three major items of your own. The second time you do it in a row, you'll be removed from the chat and the group full stop. I have no fucking time for people to not show up.

If you get too stoned or drunk to play, I will go home without a warning. Your warning is here.

If you get up for bong or smoke or whatever breaks every 10 minutes I will simply pack up and go home. I'm sick of waiting for every bloke to be at the table.

Guidance, divination spells, owls and whatever spells I decide are too fucking stupid are banned. Outright. No more fucking guidance.

You get one chance at a skill check. If you fuck up, your party doesn't get their chance to do the same check. Think careful who's good at what.

Discussion of meta game details in game will result in instant damage to your character

Rules lawyering fellow players is encouraged. “Uhm Ackchtually”ing me will just result in me telling you to fuck off.

You roll your dice within view of two players who aren't you standard. You roll them neatly and you roll them on the table. Failing to do these three things will auto fail whatever roll you did. Arguing that you actually rolled validly when you clearly didn’t is an automatic critical fail.

Instant death traps and mechanics are coming into place. If you call these things unfair moving forward, I will laugh at you and tell you to fuck off and cry some more.

I will not give you random magical items and vendors will not stock them. They are meant to be rare and hard to acquire.

Random encounters in the form of random dragons or strange mysterious road trader or a band of goblin prostitutes isn't going to happen. Go play baldurs gate 3.

I don't give two fucks what reddit said about x or y ruling.

I actually give less of a fuck about what your mate's dnd group did

Saying anything to me about other players not liking me doing x or y without them saying it directly to me will result in me kicking you out of the group. Don't use someone else to push your own agenda.

You're not to sit down and have a two hour discussion about what Samson from Bundoora secondary did three weeks ago when you come to play. Take the 15-20 minutes I use to set up and review my notes to talk to eachother, then sit down to play.

Saying Shit like "guys come on we're not here to have fun we're here to play dnd, this is serious business” is rude and dismissive of how much work I put into this. I will simply go home if I hear this shit.

Don't fucking order food randomly. We will eat together at a specific time or not at all. I don't want food shit all over my things.

No food or drinks near any of my dnd gear. If you wreck something you can pay for it. I let one person trash my dm screen once and I never had it replaced by them. In fact I had that person attempt to gaslight me into believing they didn't wreck my shit at all. I'm not stupid, you're an adult. Accept responsibility.

Arguments between party members outside of roleplay will be resolved by me giving the definite ruling. If you don't like it, fuck off back home.

I don't give a fuck what they did in critical role or what that one guy on reddit said or if you think that it's all make believe so you can do what you want. The world I run works on internal rulings and lore I created specifically for it.

Every single person in this chat is having debuffs applied to their characters that should have occurred a long time ago. This will be specific to characters.

If you don’t bring your sheet, you don’t play.

If you don't bring dice, borrow some.

When we play dnd I'm not your friend. That doesn't mean you treat me like an enemy during the game. It means I'm no longer “being nice”.

If you treat me poorly in any way shape or form after or during or before the game due to something that happened in the game, you're out. If you cannot seperate a game from reality, I think you are a fucking moron, and I have little time to deal with that energy.

You will submit your spelllists daily (in game). If you do not give me a spell list each in game day, you will not be allowed to cast a single spell or cantrip in combat. I do not trust you guys to not use this against me.

If you do not mark off spell slots or you say something like "I remember what I'm at” as a way to justify it, I will simply fail your spell, deal half your health in damage to you and say you have no spells to cast for the rest of the day.

If you break literally anything you can buy the replacement that day or not attend till you do.

If you complain about the choice of music I fully expect you to bring the whole playlist the next session or to shut the fuck up.

Cannot stress enough how little I care about how you feel about my rulings from now on.

Oh and rule 44. I'm never just threatening you. I'm promising you.

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 3: New Friends

“Wakey wakey, sunshine.”

The guard from earlier pounds on the door and rustles me awake from a restless sleep. All night I've been fighting invisible demons. They're not real but that doesn't mean the toxin leaves no impression. I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious and no clue at all to what time it is.

“First you shower. Then breakfast. Then group therapy.”

“Can I at least talk to a lawyer?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

“Afraid not, princess.”

“It’s Prentiss,” I snarl sharply.

“Whatever. Get up before I drag you outta that bed myself.”

I do as I’m told and walk ahead into the hallway in the direction of the shower room-

“What the Hell do you think you’re doing?” The guard asks.

“I’m going to the shower room,” I reply simply.

After getting a closer look I see the guy’s name tag reads “Baxton.” He gives me a funny expression.

“How do you-?”

“Arkham’s blueprints are available to any other mental facility,” I remark as I continue, my shoes squeaking against the clean tiles. “My position in Metropolis encouraged me to study significant documents so I memorized Arkham’s basic files. The shower room is down the hall to the right and then twenty paces north.”

“B- But I can’t-” Baxton sputters.

“I’m not allowed anywhere without supervision,” I finish for him. “I’m well aware of the rules. I promise not to cause a fuss until my patience is worn out.”

“How long-?”

“You’ll just have to wait and find out.” I shrug and slam the shower room door shut, locking me in with Lord-knows how many other maniacs. All I have left to defend myself with is my wits. I take a look around the room and see only a few other female inmates. They’re quiet… for now.

I do quick work to bathe and refresh myself, dressing in clean clothes laid out on the counter. I go back to the door to find Baxton waiting with an irked look.

“The cafeteria is thirty paces north. No need to show the way,” I say nonchalantly and strut down the hall. Every once in a while an inmate catcalls me or shouts for me to talk to him but every one of their shrill cries rolls off like rainwater. I’ve dealt with numerous lunatics. What’s a few more?

The cafeteria looks similar to the one in Metropolis except that this one has one important difference: there’s bars between the inmates and the kitchen staff. 

“This is where I leave ya, princess,” Baxton says and walks away, twirling his baton.

I cringe. “It’s Prentiss.”

“You’ll get used to it,” a woman’s voice says.

The voice’s source is a lone inmate sitting at a corner table with a potted plant. At first I have to do a double-take to make sure I’m not seeing things. But it’s confirmed. This woman is green. Literally green. She’s woven multiple different plants into her prison uniform and even into her red hair. And her skin. Her skin is green. Is she feeling sick?

“Before you ask, no, I’m not seasick. It’s the plant and animal-based toxins into my bloodstream.” The woman holds out a hand and I shake cautiously. “Dr. Pamela Isley. Well, not doctor anymore. I lost that when I was admitted here.”

“How did you qualify for Arkham?” I ask carefully, not wanting to sound rude. “You seem level-headed.”

The woman chuckles. “You’re not too bad yourself. I’m here because my last scheme was ‘overly inhumane,’ if you call wanting to fill Gotham City Hall with venus fly traps inhumane.”

“Um, that’s not exactly a reasonable plan. What do you think is the problem from your perspective?”

Isley’s eyes flash. “That sounds like therapy talk. Did Quinzel send you in?”

Her sudden hostility makes me go stiff. “No, not at all. I am- was a psychiatrist, but now I’m locked up here because they couldn’t keep me quiet.”

Isley calms. “A whistleblower, huh? You’re right. They would lock someone up for something like that. Sit down, sit down!” She waves me over and I join her at the wobbling table. 

I notice her lack of a food tray. “Aren’t you going to eat?” 

Isley snorts. “The food here is far from being considered edible. I get most of my energy from the sun lamps and my babies provide me with all the nutrients I need.”

Her babies? Don’t question it, Calico. Just go with it.

“You mentioned someone named Quinzel. That wouldn’t happen to be Harleen Quinzel, would it? I met her at a convention in Central City.”

Isley nods. “She’s one of the youngest doctors here. Just started last year. You’ll meet her later. Has Crane come to see you yet?”

The name is a slap in the face that refreshes my memory of last night’s events. So far there haven’t been any more hallucinations, leading me to believe the toxin has left my system.

“He did last night. Mask and all.”

“Ah yes, the mask.” Isley rolls her eyes. “Did he try to get you to say your worst fear?”

“If you don’t mind I’d rather not talk about it. I know my fear and don’t want to reminisce over it. I’ve been doing that for the past year.” I look up to face Isley directly. “Have you been dosed yet?”

She snickers and lazily waves it off. “Honey no poison or toxin works on me. Crane doesn’t even bother to test it on me anymore. You’re saying it didn’t work much on you either? That would explain why he’s been in a sour mood all morning.”

Scree! Scree!

An alarm flashes throughout the room and the guards start gathering everyone up.

“Chow time is over, people! Get back to your cells! The rest of you get to group therapy!”

Already? Time must pass differently when you’re in prison. Isley gets up and starts walking to the back door.

“You’re probably in group therapy with me.”

“I don’t need therapy. I need a lawyer.”

She shakes her head slowly. “Ah, I get it. You think you don’t belong in here either. Well here’s the bad news: nobody cares. All anyone cares about is that they get paid and we stay quiet.”

It’s worse than I thought. It’s one thing for wealthy officials to be corrupted but it’s deeper than that. If anything, each and every person in Gotham is under someone else’s thumb.

“Do we go see Crane now?” I ask Isley. “Does he conduct group therapy?”

“Heavens, no. Crane only does personal consultations with patients he finds interesting. He’s sulking in his office right now.”

Baxton has returned. He ushers Isley and me to the door. I follow her down a drafty narrow passage into a small room with fluorescent lights. A circle of chairs has been arranged in front of a whiteboard. We’re not the first ones here. A man wearing glasses is muttering to himself and when he sees me his eyes go wide with delight.

“A new face! Perfect! Riddle me this: I have billions of eyes, yet I live in darkness. I have millions of ears, yet only four lobes. I have no muscle, yet I rule two hemispheres. What am I?”

“Can it, Nigma,” Isley pushes him. “You don’t need to freak the newbie out on the first day with your childish-”

“The human brain.”

Both Isley and the riddle man look at me with open-jawed surprise. Before they can respond the door opens and an older woman wearing a white lab coat enters. Her bob cut and soft eyes allow me to relax a tad. This is my chance to talk my way out!

“Good morning everyone. Allow me to introduce myself to our newest arrival. I’m Dr. Joan Leland. What’s your name?”

This is it.

“I’m Dr. Calico Prentiss, from Hell’s Gate Psychiatric Institution in Metropolis. Please ma’am, you have to let me speak to a lawyer. There is no proof of me ever having poor mental health.”

Dr. Leland sits back with an attentive expression but makes no move to approve my request.

“Thank you for sharing, Calico. Would anyone else like to introduce themselves?”

“B- But what about-?”

“Nobody cares, Callie,” Isley reminds me. “She’ll just sit here with a cheap smile plastered on her face until the hour’s over.”

The riddle man laughs. “I am unpredictable, but you still rely on me. My installments give you the experience of life for free. I offer no refunds, returns, or exchanges. What am I?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s time. Can we get back to the subject?”

But we don’t. Instead Leland makes us write down our regrets. I do what’s expected and write the usual BS- I wish I was more social, I wish I accomplished more goals, blah blah blah. The whole time Isley keeps stroking the potted plant in her lap and the riddle guy keeps asking me questions. At the end of the session Leland has us all play Minecraft, a game that’s incredibly overrated and gives me a splitting headache.

“How are video games group therapy?” I ask, frustrated after getting stuck underground.

“It shows how you can handle anger.”

Definitely a new therapeutic technique. The surprisingly tense game goes on for another ten minutes until Leland ends the session. Once she’s gone Isley pats me on the back.

“Not bad for your first day.”

“Why aren’t there more inmates in the group?” I ask.

“Croc’s in solitary and Tetch is in the hospital wing for food poisoning,” the man with the glasses informs me.

Ivy clears her throat. “Now it’s time for proper introductions, since you’ve earned my trust. My friends call me Poison Ivy.”

Poison Ivy. That’s why she looks familiar. The green skin, the plants, everything. About a year ago there was a news story about a botanist who surrounded the Gotham waste facility with thorns and vines. I should count my blessings. Out of all the Gotham criminals I could run into, Ivy seems like a potential ally.

“My name is Nigma, Edward Nigma,” the riddle man gives my hand a shake. 

“Calls himself the Riddler,” Ivy explains. “For obvious reasons.”

“What belongs to you, but others will use it?”

“Nigma, really?” Ivy drones.

“It’s your name,” I reply in an even voice. 

Nigma’s smile widens. “Exactly! Bravo, princess!”

Another cringe jerks through my body and I flash a warning look. “It’s Prentiss.”

The man gets an ‘a-ha’ moment. “Ah, I see. The use of pet names must trigger unpleasant memories for you. Perhaps abuse? Rape? Neglectful childhood-? Christ!”

Nigma’s guessing is cut off when my fist collides with his nose. I’m almost as surprised as Ivy. Why am I letting this man’s taunting curiosity get to me? I’ve dealt with tougher jabs than this. Crane’s toxin must have taken a bigger toll than I thought.

Nigma holds his nose and patches it up while Ivy can’t stop smiling.

“You had it coming, Nigma.” Ivy shrugs. “She just has the guts to do what we’ve been wanting to do since day 1.”

Nigma rolls his eyes. “It’s not my fault life’s full of questions, Ms. Isley. Apologies, Calico.” He blots the blood off his jumpsuit. “At least this new Batman character seems like a worthy opponent. I shall concoct a glorious cornucopia of riddles for when I escape.”

Batman? What’s he talking about? What kind of lunatic…?

“When?” Ivy interrupts my train of thought. “Don’t you mean if?”

“I know what I said, Isley. It’s only a matter of time.”

She huffs. “No chance you’ll let us in on your little crime spree?”

Nigma doesn’t answer right away. He seems to be deep in thought and after a while he jumps up to scribble something on a scrap piece of paper with a small pen. We’re not allowed utensils so he must have smuggled it in.

“What say you, Prentiss? Ready to get out?”

Don’t hold a grudge, Calico. Remember you’re in a mental asylum. Edward’s just being nice, in his own weird way.

“To quote from Ivy, I’ve been ready since day 1. But I have more personal and sane means of escape.” I stand up and walk back to lean against the wall, my eyes glaring through Nigma’s skull. “Watch your back, Nigma. Pry into my psychosis again and I’ll make your life a living nightmare.”

“Isn’t that Crane’s job?”

I shrug casually. “Who’s to say a few doses of fear toxin won’t go missing and end up in your cologne bottle?”

“While I do appreciate the motive,” the professor of fear himself walks into the room and I feel my heart rate double. “And am honored that you would use my toxin for revenge, I must require that you ask for it nicely, Ms. Prentiss.”

Crane and I lock in a cold stare that goes uninterrupted until Nigma claps his hands with fake enthusiasm.

“Oh, look. Dr. Lunatic is back.”

Crane sighs and looks down at Nigma with annoyment. Clearly a silent battle of brains is brewing between the two. Ivy seems to know it as well.

“Admit it, John. You’re just as sick as the rest of us.”

The lanky doctor pinches the bridge of his nose and goes on to look through the clipboard he’s carrying. “Correction, I use my own unique genius to my advantage instead of creating mindless riddles.”

Edward puts a hand to his heart. “Ouch. What’s got you riled up, sack-head?”

“Have you seen the news?” Crane sees my confused expression and gets a wicked smirk. “Oh, right. No outside sources. Well, there’s a new face in Gotham. A masked vigilante the reporters are calling Batman.”

I set my jaw straight. He can belittle me with my outdated information all he wants. “Another mask? Sounds like your type.”

My comment flies over his head. Ivy and Nigma both share the same muffled chuckle. I’m beginning to take a liking to these inmates. Yes their ideas are insane to say the least but their laid-back take on life in Arkham makes up for it.

[scrapsovereign]

Fic idea: Isekai BG3 AU where Ascended Astarion and Gale try to kidnap Tav in an interesting setting to bring her back…but were off by about 100 years.

If you liked country, maybe you could write a song about the week you’ve had.

Starting Sunday, you cried all the way home from the vet and all night after you put down your very sick 21 year old cat, went in Monday to find you’ve been let go from your job at the Box of Human Suffering, and came back to your apartment early to find your partner in bed with their coworker.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

You make it to your bestie’s place and crashed in their spare room- you’re still invited to Ren Faire if you want to go. It’ll be fun! You can stress shop, get trashed, be hungover in the hot, hot sun…

Feeling like shit outdoors in the beautiful cottage core fever dream that is the PNW summer is better than feeling like shit at your apartment around your now ex-boyfriend. Besides, there’s no cell phone signal at site so you can avoid the inevitable garbage fire that is the social media fallout.

The night before you make your way to Ren Faire you can’t sleep. Stupid global warming. The open window in your friends’ guest bedroom helps to cool off the room some but it’s still pretty warm. Eventually, you fall asleep…with your phone on your face.

A slender, pale hand picks it up, puts it aside on the table next to you, and smooths back your hair. That feels really nice. You hum out in bliss, a peaceful smile on your lips.

“Soon, we shall be reunited at long last, my treasure.”

That voice. You’ve heard it before in dreams just like this one.

What happens next is something that you’re sure there’s a million Labyrinth fanfics about. Damn, that’s a spicy dream- you had to fake it with your ex but this guy? You have 3 orgasms! In an hour! That’s more than you had in your whole 2 year relationship that just ended!

The next morning, you make it to the event with your friends and are setting up when you hear the couple in the site next to you bickering. You poke your head around to look at the corner to see an Astarion and a Gale cosplayer arguing with each other. They’re so in character it hurts. “Astarion” looks like he’s about to stab “Gale” with a tent pole before you intervene and offer your help.

Turns out they’ve never been to one of these things before! You laugh darkly at the situation of your new thirst trap friends. Two hot guys with British accents at REN FAIRE of all places is like dumping a bucket of blood in shark-infested waters.

And YOU get to be their guide.

You learn a little more about them, but it doesn’t add up. “Greg” teaches computer science but doesn’t say where and looks at you weird when you crack a joke about the internet being a series of tubes. “Ryan” says he’s a lawyer who works in downtown Seattle but won’t tell you what flavor of lawyer he is and he’s never heard of Jeff Bezos’ Balls.

Huh.

Ryan is super excited to learn about and partake of all the drunken debauchery that happens after dark, so you drag your new friends to all the different camps and make sure they know some of the rules before you let them loose.

You knock back some blue pixie stick and cackle at Ryan when he does a spit-take from the sweetness of the drink. Greg (who ignored your warning about not eating more than one atomic cherry because he wanted to show off how well he could tie a knot with the stem) gets into a very spirited debate with your DnD buddies on the nature of “The Weave”. While he’s distracted, Ryan drags you away from site, away from the event, far beyond the parking lot.

He looks down at you with adoring eyes, your hands held delicately in his, his silver hair positively glowing in the moonlight. He begins to lean down toward you- oh shit, is he going to kiss you?!

“Uhhh…I’m fresh out of a breakup, this probably isn’t a great idea if you’re looking for something that isn’t casual- and I don’t want to come between whatever’s going on with you and Greg.”

He barks out a laugh. A wicked smile spreads across his face, displaying that really great pair of fake teeth. You make a mental note to ask him later where on Etsy he got them from.

“It’s time to go home, Octavia. You can abandon this little charade of yours.”

You stare up at him blankly, feeling uneasy all of a sudden.

Why is he calling you by your middle name? That you never gave to him? Which is also your grandmother’s first name? Your grandmother, (who you bear an uncanny resemblance to), who died more than a decade ago?

You ask him as such. His lips curl in to a snarl, his hands tighten painfully around yours.

“Don’t be stupid, pet. Do you know what we’ve had to go through to find you?! The bloody traffic from that awful place called ‘Renton’ was worse than the ordeal it took to infiltrate the Acquisitions Incorporated Office in Waterdeep. You’ve had your fun, but you’re coming back with us. Tonight.”

Waterdeep, as in Waterdeep in the DnD? What the LARP is he talking about?

You try to tell him that he doesn’t need to be in character, that this isn’t that kind of event when you don’t feel good all of a sudden.

The night swirls around you, wrapping you in a blanket of inky darkness.

You awaken from your dreamless slumber, noticing the softness of real silk sheets beneath you.

Slender fingers lovingly card through your hair. You’re held tenderly in strong arms. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so relaxed and comfortable.

Your stomach drops as a familiar voice lilts out above you.

“Welcome home, my darling consort…”

[pasquey]

Aziraphale's Choice, or: Activist Infighting

As we were going through the last minutes of season 2 of Good Omens, I looked at my partner and said, "Activist infighting." It was the best encapsulation I had for what seemed at the base of the Aziraphale-Crowley conflict, or at least a large portion of it.

There's been a lot of great analysis on what Heaven means emotionally to Crowley and Aziraphale, how it shows a toxic family dynamic. But the activist angle has been much less explored. It goes like this: for the entire series so far, we've seen how the policies of Heaven sometimes actively harm people and frequently actively prevent them from being helped. Aziraphale has seen this for thousands of years. Suddenly he's given the option of being given enough power within the system to make major changes - heck, we've never heard of any demons being allowed back into Heaven before, and he's immediately given the option of doing so! This isn't fake power, this isn't a figurehead, a joke; this is something that begins with a major concession and that could lead to even more positive changes if Aziraphale plays his cards right.

Or maybe it is a joke. Maybe it's a trap. Maybe they don't intend on giving Aziraphale real power. But they would still, even in that scenario, be giving him information. The only reason the original Armageddon failed to happen is because Crowley had the right connections in Hell to be the one who brought Adam to the hospital. Adam's baby swap was an accident, but one that he was in a position to do intentionally. The process of raising Warlock to hopefully not end the world also depended on Crowley and Aziraphale being in positions where they knew who Warlock was and where to find him. When used correctly, information is its own form of power.

Living a quiet life in a bookshop is nice until the world explodes around you; even if Aziraphale didn't expect the Second Coming to be so soon, he's immortal and knew he would be alive to see it whenever it happened. And unlike Crowley, Aziraphale isn't willing to go off and live on Alpha Centauri with only a single companion. He wants to save the world.

And Heaven offers him a way to. A chance to change how Heaven operates. Even if Aziraphale couldn't tear down the whole system there, he could make progress. Yes, by working with a bunch of assholes with a bad history. Yes, by making compromises. But for the people he could help, it would be worth it.

Aziraphale didn't choose Heaven over Earth. Aziraphale made the choice to go where he could help Earth the most, even if it involved sacrificing the life he'd built there. It was a choice made out of love.

(While Crowley chose the other kind of activism. Crowley says "why vote? both sides are the same anyways. why run for office? you'll never get elected. anyone who tries to make incremental progress is a corporate shill." He's great at helping the person directly in front of him, but when it comes to wider society, he's given up. He has his reasons, of course. But it doesn't escape me that he's still ready to cut and run away from Earth at any moment. He thinks it's romantic for Gabriel and Beelzebub to run off to Alpha Centauri together. Rather than putting down roots, his plants live in his car.)

And yes, Aziraphale has many emotional reasons to hope Heaven can improve. But it's also practical. We've seen how much time he spent trying to hide his good deeds from Gabriel; at least Muriel will be able to be more blatant with hers when he's boss. He can always go back to Earth if it fails, but this offer to change Heaven won't come twice.

And of course he wanted to take Crowley with. Finally, a chance to work together without it being a secret! Think of everything they could accomplish! Heaven admitted they were right all along, and now instead of high wire rules-lawyering, they get to make the rules!

Crowley doesn't trust that. Crowley's not touching that. Work with corrupt people and you'll become corrupted; better to stay as far from it all as possible. The system won't ever change. It's the bandstand fight all over again: try to change a corrupt system or get out.

But that's activist infighting for you.

[beardedmrbean]

A New York City college student was sentenced to one year behind bars by the United Arab Emirates for allegedly “assaulting and insulting” an airport security guard during a flight connection in Dubai over the summer, according to reports.

Elizabeth Polanco De Los Santos, 21, a student at Lehman College in the Bronx, was handed her sentence Monday after spending nearly three months effectively trapped in Dubai with a travel ban issued against her, according to the advocacy group Detained in Dubai.

“Elizabeth only intended to transit through Dubai for six hours but she’s been there for months on end and has lost $50,000 in expenses and lawyers costs,” said Detained in Dubai founder Radha Stirling.

“On top of being humiliated and traumatized by airport staff, Elizabeth has suffered months of being forced to stay in an expensive country, pay expensive lawyers and miss out on her university studies.”

Los Santos’ ordeal began on July 14, as she and a friend were heading home to New York from a vacation in Istanbul.

Their initial itinerary had them connecting home through Paris, but they changed the flight to transfer in Dubai so they could see the famous city during a 10-hour layover.

“We thought it would be a more modern and futuristic city but we were completely wrong,” Los Santos said, according to Detained in Dubai.

While passing through security, Dubai airport staff requested that Los Santos remove a waist compressor she was required to wear after a recent surgery.

Shown to a private booth, female staff members removed the compressor, but Los Santos’ mother told Detained in Dubai they were rough and hurt her daughter’s still-healing surgery scars.

They also laughed at her, and when she asked for help to put the complicated garment back on, they refused.

“I was feeling uncomfortable and afraid. I felt really violated,” Los Santos said.

The compressor had “many, many pins and you need to stretch the edges and clip small, skinny pins together close to the body,” she said, and as staff continued to ignore her pleas for help, Los Santos leaned past a security guard blocking her way and called out for her friend to come and help her.

“I gently touched her arm to guide her out of the way, then desperately started crying to my friend for help,” she told Detained in Dubai.

Los Santos was then detained in a room for hours as the security guard she touched filed a complaint against her, and wasn’t allowed to leave until she signed a form written in Arabic.

When she returned to the airport later to catch her flight to New York, she was informed of the travel ban filed against her and was forced to remain in the country until the charges against her were heard in court.

After she had to stay in hotels for weeks, a judge allowed her to pay 10,000 AED (about $2,700 US) and be on her way, but Dubai prosecutors appealed the ruling and she was finally sentenced to a year in prison Monday.

“She is under the most incredible stress which is impacting her physical and mental health, disrupting her entire life and scarring her long-term,” said Stirling. “This is simply no way to treat visitors. It’s outrageous.”

The US State Department did not immediately respond to requests for comment from The Post, but told Newsweek in a statement Sunday they are “aware of the detention of a U.S. citizen in Dubai.”

Lehman College did not respond to requests for comment on Los Santos’ status as a student.

Los Santos is not the only American to recently find themselves trapped in Dubai under outrageous circumstances.

Back in August, 29-year-old Tierra Young Allen returned to her home in Houston after spending months trapped in the country for yelling at a rental car clerk.

She was finally allowed to go home after forking over about $1,300 to lift a travel ban against her.

[technoturian]

I'm having a lot of feelings about The Brotherhood of Steel and how I hope the show does them justice. I keep seeing takes like "Why are the Brotherhood in there I HATE the Brotherhood they're BAD ACTUALLY" and like... Yes? That's the point?

I will admit my feelings on the Brotherhood are very much informed by how I played Fallout 4 the first time:

Here's this woman, she's living in an idyllic little house in an idyllic little neighborhood with her family. Her world is destroyed and she's sent to an unimaginable hell world. All she wants is her kid. All she wants is safety. The first person she meets is on the game's tracks; Preston Garvey. He presents himself as a good person, but he's just as lost as she is. He lets her know he's all alone out here and even though he can go with her, I never take him. He needs to stay in the neighborhood and look after the others.

The tracks end and it's open world. I could go straight to Diamond City and maybe if I had, maybe having Nick and Piper on my side before I met Danse would've changed how everything about the Brotherhood worked for me. But that's not how it went down. I'm running around, making sure I don't miss anything. And there's a call on the radio. It's urgent. So I go after it. And the first quest I run into on my own is Fire Support, Paladin Danse's intro quest.

So here's this woman, she's living in a nightmare. Nobody at her back. She's been fighting for her life for hours straight. And she feels powerless. She feels unmoored. In her regular life she was a lawyer married to a soldier; she was used to order, comfortable with the idea of rule of law. There is nothing resembling order here. And then here is this knight in shining power armor telling her this isn't hell she's stuck in, it's a fight and it's one his side is going to win. There's a certainty to the Brotherhood of Steel that is terrifying to normal, well-adjusted people but is probably comforting to someone who is already as terrified as they can get. The BoS are harsh but they're honest and upfront about their intentions. They're sure of themselves. They have goals and plans. They're not just winging it. That's security. That's power.

Now my PC doesn't know anything about synths, she doesn't know anything about supermutants, and she's just met her first ghouls in a bunch of ferals. Nothing they're saying about non-humans seems wrong at this point. They legitimately sound like violent, deadly monsters.

And then she goes to Diamond City and she meets an amazing mechanical man. She meets a plucky reporter who cares about the truth. And she has people who have her back in a way that makes the "support" the Brotherhood offers feel a lot less personal. And the more she finds out about this world she lives in now, the more she realizes the Brotherhood's way isn't something she can go along with. And she was almost in too deep before she found out. *I* knew I would never ultimately side with the Brotherhood, but it was very easy to justify why my character would stick with them as long as she did. She wanted them to be what they think they are.

And that's why I kind of love them. When everything is going horribly wrong who doesn't want someone who holds out a hand and says, "I know how to fix this and I have the power to do it." You have all of these cartoonishly violent raiders and craven killers and they're so horrific that they actually succeed at making people like the Brotherhood look reasonable. When you're in a world of dragons you want a sword. And that's why I think the BoS, done right, have potential to make for the most compelling storyline. Order in chaos. They're such an enticing trap.