#there's just too many characters and stakes all over the place for it to be compelling anymore

[skattig]

Not to be an annoying But The Lore manga fan, but wasn't it literally said in text that a body being able to survive special grade curse possession was a 1 in a million chance 😐 And Kenjaku did the whole body swapsies + seduction thing to create a perfect host? Right?? So how come Sukuna can just suddenly hop into Megumi no big deal

[kalims]

ㅤhere is my husband

premise. just us casually staking a claim on our non-official husbands (for coupons)

featuring. all characters

content. alignment, fluff

ㅤthe flustered over thinkers

one who's unbearably confused because he doesn't recall a marriage taking place to wed the two of you at all, he's a little concerned though. he's sure he'd remember such an event? anything with the two of you is practically unforgettable to the fact that when he's in bed only thing he thinks about is you, and the lingering anticipation that he'll see you again in the morning.

besides this said... eventful morning. where you've both apparently upgraded in relationship without his knowledge he can say that he's struggling to hide his steaming ears, hoping you won't notice if he brings the cup of coffee to his face so the steam seems like it's from there.

confused? flustered? thanks for the input! here's your boyfriend husband. doesn't even ask you to explain even though he's twitching to ask you cause if he knows you then you're almost always up to no good, maybe this is one of your tricks but he won't try just for the thought that you're still 'married.' all marriage related things, even the color white is sending his mind into overwire :)

— | riddle, jack, deuce, azul, epel, silver

ㅤwe love flirts

ah yes, if we've got the flustered, confused husbands we also need to get our resident flirts who just gives you a side glance and plays along like he knows what game you're playing. absolutely no questions at all because you know he's gonna bring up the topic sooner or later with a tease, he just feels like he has to return the fluster you'd admittedly inflicted on him. (which is apparently by proclaiming you're both married now.)

don't be surprised if you're getting private messages online, or just random people coming up to you asking how you're married in... this golden age, was that even legal there? you're not sure but maybe because everyone was kind of casual about it.

doesn't matter whether you say you're just messing with him. oh, you're done? good for you but he isn't. he's calling you his spouse everywhere, a local restaurant, shop, stall. wherever you say, he claims he's just doing what you asked for the coupons but you've got an inkling he's just got a knack for calling you his lawfully wedded partner.

— | trey, cater, jade, rook, lilia, leona (partly), vil

ㅤlegally in denial

we have the awkward ones who partially accept their fates, the flirts who's living purpose is to get a rise of warmth in your face, and we have the legally in denial ones whom are trying so hard to deny everything you do. you guys are dating?! oh my god... you must be being threatened to do this, where's the culprit?! news flash, there isn't any but even when it's so clear they seem to find every single reason to convince themselves that there's something wrong.

like, please accept our love already. you already called them your husband in broad daylight, is that not enough of proof? what do you mean you're probably gonna divorce him... he doesn't mention the fact of you guys never marrying at all, just jumps in divorce...

sometimes you should punch a man for his self esteem, it must be a struggle trying to convince someone you like, that you indeed like them. crazy, right? he can't take this heart stopping gesture he's watched too many times but will gladly arrange a wedding in minecraft. just tell him you guys got married ever since he put his bed next to yours if he asks since when.

— | idia on his own

ㅤairheads who are simps

the classic group of guys, of which they all are just incredibly down bad for the lead who just so happens to be you! <4 in this case they're so in love that they wouldn't even question anything you say even if you mix up murder and a name in the same sentence! if you trip? oh no, no. it's clearly the fault of the ground, not to worry! he'll even get workers to reconstruct the entire thing.

and yes, he's either rich or has enough influence (if not through intimidation.) anyways, if they're mad because of a horrible day just walk in a room and then the dark cloud over their heads just floats away and is replaced by hearts in their eyes.

a prank? oh you're funny. what ever do you mean? you're both clearly married. he's got the papers right here *materializes one.* where did that even come from?! say it once, now you've planted something that won't go away in their heads and it's going to shift to reality one way or another :)

— | kalim, floyd, malleus, rook.

ㅤchill mister tsunderes

takes a deep breath* screeches* yeah that's pretty much it. the people (possibly pertaining to just one person, cause he almost always needs his own category.) who try to refuse your existing even if you just cough. keyword: try because even if you're dating them they're still struggling to wrap their head around the fact that they are dating you so maybe their coping mechanism is just refusing to admit you make their hearts go boom boom??

is completely torn whether to screech again (preferably not in his mind to release that pent up... feeling. some type of fluster that makes him wonder if he should have brought a pillow to yell into.) or just reject what you just said. somehow his mouth just doesn't cooperate and he has to look away from you because he's actually struggling to keep his sanity together.

giving himself pep talk, the fortitude that 'he doesn't like you', trying to rebuild that wall back up again but he learns that he apparently can't take it when you're both referred to a life bounded vow. not as in he despises is, though he believes he is. but rather because he'll probably combust on the spot by the sheer claim being said out loud.

— | main: sebek, leona, ace

ㅤdem smug bastards

the ones who just can't resist to crack a smirk when you casually introduce him as your husband, no wonder you insisted he wore the promise ring you had given him.. just to show him off? consider him impressed! this might be just one of his favorite memento of your shenanigans. either he already knows what you're up do (leona) or he's just enjoying the remnants of your embarrassed face as he plummets you with endless grins and teases (floyd)

he's your husband...? I mean true but you're mainly his spouse :) should you even regret having done anything in the first place for the coupons? don't ever. anything should be done for the discounts, even if your supposed husband starts parading everywhere and uses every opportunity that appears in random conversations or situations to just casually announce your lawfully wedded marriage.

what do you mean you're not married? I mean he's got all the evidence in his phone, you didn't think he'd pass up the opportunity to record you saying that phrase for nothing did you? it's a great moment to remember, especially when it's in the middle of the night and he can't help but pull up that recording just to listen to it on loop like an idiot.

— | leona, floyd, ruggie, jade?, lilia (perhaps, vil (also questionable)

ㅤwho are you talking to rn?

those who look embarrassed but you're betting most on your money that he's just awfully flustered + doesn't like the feeling just guessing from him avoiding your eyes like you're the entity from bird box. does he really think his hood can cover the entirety of his red ears? they're fooling absolutely no one with that fake cough, only thing you heard was the quiet choke when they processed your words.

tries to play it off by 'composing' themselves in front of you, even though their back is turned to you. the straightening of their shoulder usually implies that they think they're ready but you can't help but note that several parts of their body, if not all, collectively flinch at the sight of you. they dont say anything but they give you this... look.

like, narrowed eyes, their jaw is slightly turned away from you, *judges whole existence with a side eye* they can't believe they even have you as a partner but besides that they can't wrap their heads around the fact that such a stupid notion such as that actually had him doing cartwheels inside his head.

— | jamil deserves this, ruggie, jack, azul

ㅤwym didn't we already get married?

YOUR HONOR ITS THIS ONE. you're probably making him more confused than you are. because?? cue confused face. didn't you guys already get married like, a month ago? do you not see the ring on your finger? the matching one on his own finger? did you really not notice anything when he just casually takes you to the most ethereal, sacred place of briar valley and hands you the box containing the ring...? has he done it too subtly? well, he's underestimated humans once again...

to fae culture that was probably the most obvious thing ever. he didn't outright just decide he wanted to marry you, but you've probably done something that borders on a 'let's get married' proposal in his culture so that just prompted him to get to work ASAP, get his workers find the most grandest ring there is in his family heirloom.

if you take it. that just meant you're both FOR LIFERSSSSS. HENCE WHY HES SO CONFUSED WHEN YOU'RE CONFUSED THAT HES ACTING LIKE ITS NORMAL. I mean he's happy that you finally decided to call him his rightful title after a month but why are you so flabbergasted, child of man? what do you mean you're not married? just look at said sacred, ethereal place in briar valley. both your names are engraved there together, that's enough proof isn't it?

— | malleus

bonus <4

ㅤthe actual partner in crime

want to take it up a notch? just call the resident creator of forged documents, this is totally legal and free! just get on his good side and he will remain there forever, unchanging cause he loves you now. unless you somehow wrong him... it's actually very beneficial because he can do nearly anything for you without trouble so... wow you're married? why didn't you invite him :( oh you're not but you want to be? oh that's totally fine!

oh you want his help? he can't go against the law because of his coding system but.. it also says to help friends whenever he can and you're his best friend so :)) *casually prints out paper* don't worry he'll talk to some friends and it will be legal before you know it!

knowing his brother he's probably authorized to break the law so he had to code it himself before he gets too far... anyways congrats on your actual marriage 😊

— | ortho

note. this is a commissioned piece, do not post this anywhere else

[nanenna]

Title: The Parent Trap Fandoms: Batman (DC Comics) and Danny Phantom Ships: None AUs: Demon Twins Warnings: Character injury, discussions of death.

Summary: It was just an ordinary night on patrol until...

“We need an evac,” Dick said, cutting the chatter off, “bird down.”

“Spoiler, you’re the closest to the cave. Nightwing, who’s with you?” Barb asked, “And how bad is the injury?”

“Robin,” Dick replied with some confusion before adding on with confidence, “a leg injury, we’re pretty sure it’s broken.”

“Robin?” Tim couldn’t help blurting out, looking over at Damian next to him, perched on his bike in full Robin costume. “But here’s right here, with me.”

---

Damian had been acting strange for the week or so. Rather, Robin had been acting strange for the last week. Not many people actually lived full time in the manor anymore, but everyone agreed that during the day he was his usual self. During patrols, however, he was simply a little… off. Like tonight for instance: Batman was away from Gotham on official Justice League business and Nightwing had agreed to cover his usual patrol route; normally Robin would tag along with Nightwing, giving the excuse that he needed to make sure Dick did the route correctly while everyone knew the demon brat really just wanted to spend more time with his favorite brother. But tonight…

“I will be joining you on your case, Drake.”

“You will?” Tim asked skeptically. Dick had already suited up and left, yet instead of scrambling to go catch up here Damian was, already all suited up, demanding to join Tim of all people.

“You are doing a stake out for street racers, correct? What will you do when they inevitably split to lose you?”

He sadly had a point, having someone else there would help. “Are you going to stab me?”

Robin didn't say anything, simply stood there and stared Tim down.

After standing there for a full minute, Tim sighed and headed for the vehicle bay, Robin hot on his heels. Without another word they donned helmets and slung legs over their bikes. Weird, but not unheard of, just another thing that was a little off. Not that Tim was entirely unhappy, he wanted a chance to observe Damian’s behavior. Even if he thought Dick was more likely to get Damian to open up.

…

And Tim was bored. The first half of patrol was quiet and uneventful, the street racers hadn’t shown up at their usual time/place yet, and Damian hadn’t said a damn thing the whole night. It’d just been the two of them riding around, not finding anything that needed their attention, and just being… normal. At least the usual chatter from the others was there to keep him company.

“We need an evac,” Dick said, cutting the chatter off, “bird down.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Spoiler, you’re the closest to the cave. Nightwing, who’s with you?” Barb asked, “And how bad is the injury?”

“Robin,” Dick replied with some confusion before adding on with confidence, “a leg injury, we’re pretty sure it’s broken.”

“Robin?” Tim couldn’t help blurting out, looking over at Damian next to him, perched on his bike in full Robin costume. “But here’s right here, with me.” The shadows around them grew deeper, seemed to sharpen.

“What? No, I’m looking right at him.”

“Well so am I!” 

“I’ve got your cams up and… well shit,” Barb murmured.

“Oracle,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? said into the quiet comms, a hand up to his helmet, “send me Nightwing’s location.”

“Robin,” Oracle started, only to be interrupted.

“We’re in sector 36,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? replied, going so far as to give longitude and latitude coordinates and a description of the building roof they’re on.

“Copy that,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? said before revving his bike’s engine and taking off.

Tim would never admit to nearly losing him due to sheer shock. Too busy screaming “What the fuck” in his own head to remember he needed to follow, but follow he did. This… this might explain Damian’s strange behavior over the past couple weeks. If there was an imposter running around with them, but they would have surely noticed, right?

“We can’t have everyone abandoning their patrols!” Barb said in clear frustration. Heard clearly because the chatter was still gone, nothing but dead silence. You would think everyone would be demanding answers, peppering the Robins with non-stop questions. Hell, Tim wanted to, but he was too busy keeping his bike under him as he chased after his Robin.

“Red Robin and I are on motorcycles,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? told Barb, “which means we have the small vehicle first aid kits, including analgesics, splints, and extra bandages.”

“We could use the splints,” Dick said faintly.

“And doing first aid before evac arrives means less time faffing about once Spoiler arrives.”

Tim nearly crashed, barely righting his bike. To hear Damian’s voice say “faffing about” was just… weird. Does that mean Tim’s Robin was the imposter?

“You all are faffing about right now,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? grumbled before hissing.

“Stay still,” Dick chided.

Okay, so maybe “faffing” was a phrase Damian had recently learned from a classmate or something, Tim sure didn’t know. And oh thank god, they must have arrived. Damian? Robin? Some imposter? was parked on the sidewalk, helmet already off and just pulling the field kit from the bike’s storage. He didn’t even spare Tim a glance, simply looked up at the very tall building, looked down at his grapple, shrugged, put the grapple away, and then lifted off the ground and into the air.

“Shit,” Tim said softly but with feeling.

“What?” Barb asked, clearly very tense.

“I think my Robin was the imposter, he just flew up the building. Like Kryptonian flew.” Is this Jon? Were he and Damian pulling a Bruce and Clark? Except it couldn’t be, Jon had started packing on muscles while Damian was still in the lanky growing-taller-before-filling-out stage.

“Really, akhi?” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? asked in exasperation.

“Hey, the jig is well and truly up at this point,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? replied.

Okay, that was really weird to hear in Damian’s voice. And oh wait, maybe Tim should get up there too.

“Oh shit, there really is two of them!” Dick said in shock. “Uh… hello there… other Robin?”

“Hello Nightwing, I brought the kit. I…” Damian paused, then sighed into the comm, “akhi, what did you do?”

Damian tsked, “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Your leg is broken!” Damian yelled.

“Did you see that with your x-ray vision?” Damian asked.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not Kryptonian,” Damian replied. “I don’t have x-ray vision.”

“Sure sound Kryptonian,” Tim muttered under his breath. The Robin that flew had slipped into a faint Midwestern drawl that reminded him of Clark.

“Can you just give me the kit?” Dick asked both warily and wearily.

“Right, yes. Here.” 

Tim had made it onto the roof by that point, just in time to watch one of the Robins hand over the kit to Nightwing before kneeling next to the other Robin, who had his leg stretched out in front of him while he sat half propped up on his elbows. The laying down Robin (the real one? The one that hasn’t shown any meta powers yet, anyway. Is one of them the real Robin or were they both imposters?) let himself fall fully on his back and held a hand out. The meta(?) Robin kneeled next to him and took his hand. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I am more worried about you, you’re not used to this.”

“Yeah, normally I’m the only one getting hurt, and I usually don’t have bones when that happens.” Imposter Robin laughed at that.

“What the fuck?” Tim said under his breath, what does that mean?

“Focus,” Dick chided as Tim came to join him in tending to Damian’s(?) injury.

“Batcopter ETA five minutes,” Barb said. “Agent A has the medbay prepped.”

Imposter Robin flinched at that. Odd.

“Focus,” Dick hissed. “Save the mystery for after we get our downed bird home.”

Tim almost pointed out they couldn't be sure either Robin was even the real one, but a scathing look from Dick that burned even through the domino white outs had Tim snapping his mouth shut. Instead he nodded and set about helping Dick set and splint Robin's leg.

Steph arrived right on time, between Dick, imposter Robin, and Tim they got the real(?) Robin loaded onto the batcopter. Then the imposter pulled something from his costume and tossed it at Dick.

“Keys?” Dick asked.

“We gotta get Robin's bike back to the cave somehow.” He hopped into the batcopter and settled next to the injured Robin.

Dick held out the keys, “And as Robin shouldn’t-”

“No,” the imposter interrupted. “I’m not leaving him.”

Seems it was Tim’s turn to be the voice of reason. He put a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “Robin trusts him, we’ll meet them back at the cave in a minute.” If the injured Robin even was the real Damian, if the imposter didn’t use his unknown powers to escape, if any slew of unpredictable situations. Holy hell, Tim could see why Bruce was so paranoid about knowing everything about everyone. He’d be in the middle of three panic attacks and an existential crisis on top of a heart attack if he were here right now. But he wasn’t, thankfully. Instead Tim pulled Dick away from the batcopter so Steph could take back off and head to the cave.

Soon Dick and Tim were on their respective bikes, Nightwing looking ridiculous on Robin’s candy apple red paint job, and were zooming through the streets at a pace that was while fast still gave Tim time to actually think. He went back over everything the two Robins had said since Nightwing had called in for an evac. And then it hit him.

“Akhi.”

“What about it?” Dick asked.

“It’s what they called each other.”

“Brother,” Cass added in her soft voice.

“Right, in Arabic. They called each other brother. And recently Robin told us about his twin brother.”

“Are you telling us that Robin’s twin brother came back from the dead and decided to just… join us on patrol?” Dick asked in disbelief.

“He told us several weeks ago, and has been acting odd on patrol for nearly two weeks now. If when he told us was when he found out, or at least started planning this, then they had a few weeks for Robin to give his twin a crash course on us before pulling this stunt.”

There was muffled laughter in the comms, but Tim wasn’t sure who.

“But why?” Oracle asked.

“A prank?” Dick asked.

“A test of some kind,” Tim said in a monotone. There was a double tap on the comm, Cass’s form of nonverbal agreement.

“The batcopter has arrived back at the cave,” Oracle informed them. Everyone else grew quiet, waiting for whatever was about to happen to happen.

“... -nk went too far,” Damian (or his twin?) was saying into the comm.

“TT, it did not,” Damian replied.

“You couldn’t taste their emotions,” okay that was the twin, and what a weird way to phrase that, “they were really scared.”

“You like the taste of fear.”

Wow, Damian, really not helping with how creepy your long dead twin is being.

“Well yeah, obviously, it’s delicious. That doesn’t mean it’s okay to go around purposefully scaring your family.”

Fear is delicious?!

“What does it matter? As you said, ‘the jig is up’ and the prank is over. We will have to explain ourselves when the others arrive.”

“Others like me?” Steph asked cheerfully.

“Great, time for the great bat interrogation,” the twin said with exactly zero enthusiasm.

“Not until Master Damian has been seen to,” Alfred said. Tim could just see the raised eyebrow.

Tim tuned the rest out as those actually in the cave set about the logistics of getting Damian moved to the medbay.

“He can taste fear?” Tim asked incredulously.

“You know as much as the rest of us,” Dick said back.

“Does that make him an empath? He said he’s not Kryptonian, would that make his power suite closer to a Marian? Wait, neither Talia nor Bruce have the meta gene, how’d he even get powers?”

“Maybe he got them from the Lazarus Pits?”

There was a snort in the comms, “Then why didn’t I get powers?”

“Hood? What’re you doing on our comms?” Dick sounded far too delighted.

“I have an alert set up for whenever your chatter stops, it’s always a bad sign.”

“Fair enough, you heading to the cave to meet the demon brat’s long lost twin?”

There was a scoff from Jason, “Of course!”

“Everyone’s headed for the cave,” Oracle said with a tone of defeat.

“Stuck in ops?” Dick asked.

“Well someone has to keep an ear on things while the rest of you get to go have fun.”

“We’ll keep our comms on.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

Tim and Dick both laughed at that. Fortunately they arrived back at the cave at that point, quickly parking their bikes and all but running over to the medbay. Steph was standing just outside the door, clearly keeping an eye on things while Alfred and the twin fussed over Damian. Tim and Dick went to go join Steph at the door, none of them willing to risk Alfred’s wrath should they get in his way. Cass joined them shortly after, all four staring as Alfred finished up what he could do for Damian. The demon brat was laid out on a medical cot, his costume set to the side, down to just the thin layer worn under the armor, mask already removed.

“Leslie has been called, she’ll be here in the morning with the necessary supplies. I’m afraid you will have to remain here until then, Master Damian.”

Damian tsked, but otherwise said nothing.

“And now I do believe we are all owed an explanation.” Alfred turned ever so slightly as his attention turned to Damian’s twin.

Damian responded by struggling in his bed.

“What are you doing, akhi?” the twin asked, clearly exasperated.

“I will be sitting up for this,” Damian snarled.

Without a word Alfred handed Damian the bed’s controls, allowing him to slowly raise himself into a reclined sitting position. Alfred raised a brow as if to ask if that would do, Damian only glowered at the wall.

The twin started pulling his domino off. Damian tsked yet again and handed his twin a wipe to help pull the mask off. “Ancients,” the twin said, which Dick mouthed in confusion, “you lot sure do love your theming. And I thought the ghosts had it bad.”

“Ghosts?” Tim mouthed, exchanging quick, confused glances with Dick.

“So yeah, hi. I’m Danny, Damian’s long lost twin.” The twin, now known as Danny, said with a little wave after he got the domino off. And there was no denying that he was Damian’s twin, he had Damian’s face in every feature save his eyes. While Damian clearly had Talia’s eyes, Danny’s were all Bruce.

“Everyone, this is my brother, Danyal Al Ghul Wayne.”

“Legally not my name anymore.”

“Legally?” Tim asked.

“Yeah, I got adopted!” Danny grinned again, all sunshine and cheer that was so wrong when he had Damian’s face.

Tim snorted, Bruce’s kid had been adopted. Oh things just got complicated but the irony of Brucie being on the other end of a kid getting adopted was still a fun kind of irony. Or maybe Tim had gotten to the everything-is-hilarious stage of sleep depravation.

“So what is your legal name?” Dick asked.

“Um… I’m not sure I should tell you that.” Danny fidgeted nervously. “Not yet anyway. I mean, Bruce… uh… our father? Isn’t here and like… shouldn’t he be told? Too? Or first? Honestly I’d rather just be able to tell everyone at the same time rather than having to go over the whole thing every time someone new walks in the door.”

As if he had timed it to happen that way, Jason came roaring into the cave on his bike. There was a collective sigh as everyone crowding around the outside of the door knew they’d have to wait for Jason to get there before things could continue, even if he had been listening in along with Oracle on his way in.

Danny’s face lit up as Jason, still wearing his full Red Hood gear, came into view. He whooped and threw both hands in the air as he ran out the door, somehow not even touching any of the vigilantes crowded in the way.

Jason stopped dead, his own hands raised up halfway in front of him as if unsure what to do. Danny just slapped both of Jason’s with his own in a kind of low five, then bounced excitedly in place. “Undead solidarity, yeah!”

“Uh… what?” Jason’s modulated voice asked in its usual monotone.

“I’ve been dying to meet you!”

“Heh, have you? Were you dead set on meeting the best?”

Damian groaned, “Stop encouraging Danyal’s insipid sense of humor.”

“Yeah, you’re the best!” Danny continued as if Damian hadn’t said a thing, “My favorite new brother!”

Dick gasped and clutched his chest.

Jason pointed at him and laughed as he slung an arm over Danny’s shoulders. “I see you are a kid of taste. How do you feel about Jane Austen.”

Danny winced, “My dude, I’m a guy in high school.”

“And so was I once, but we can’t all have my impeccable taste.” He started walking Danny back over to the medbay. “Anyway, Bruce shouldn’t be back until tomorrow afternoon, we really going to wait that long for the whole story?”

Danny winced, then cursed quietly under his breath. “We’ll have to, something just came up.”

Everyone frowned at that, “What do you mean?” Damian asked.

“The real deal got into a fight and uh… they’re pretty strong. I think I’m gonna need to recombine.”

“What?” Jason said, it was hard to tell if the flatness was his own voice or the modulator.

“Oh uh… I’m a… what’s that word again… doppelganger! That’s it. The main body’s back home and,” he winced again, a bruise blooming across his cheek in real time. No, in double time, it was like watching a time lapse of a bruise blooming and slowly starting to heal. “Look, having my attention and powers split like this is normally fine, a good way to keep my powers in check for fighting normal humans actually. But uh… let’s see… I think I’m fighting Plasmius?”

“We don’t know who that is,” Damian said with a sigh. “He keeps saying names of people or things like I’ll know what it means.”

“It means I can’t afford to have my attention and powers split over two bodies, so I’m about to poof. Sorry. But I’ll be back tomorrow, summon me after school Dami?”

“Summon?” Everyone but the twins asked in confusion.

“Of course, Danyal. Good luck fighting your rogue.”

“I think the fruit loop counts as my arch nemesis, unfortunately. But I gotta sorta slide back, can’t have all of tonight’s memories and my half of the power hit me all at once. This might look a little freaky, but it’s normal and I’m fine I promise.”

Jason unslung his arm from Danny’s shoulder and took a step to the side. They all gawked as Danny closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, his breath frosting in what should be warm air. His face, the only part of him not covered by the Robin costume, started to go invisible at the same time his skin and hair started to gray. Then he was gone and the costume was left behind, slumping to the floor in a pile.

Everyone stood there for a moment, staring at the colorful pile of armor, then they all turned to look at Damian.

“TT, don’t ask me. I still don’t have a full list of everything he can do.”

---

Tim, along with everyone else, was at the manor the next afternoon. And he did mean everyone, even Kate, Harper, and Cullen were there. Hell, even Jason was there, on time no less. Damian had put “17:30 sharp” in the family (minus Bruce) chat and they knew he meant it. They were crowded into one of the larger sitting rooms, every chair filled save a chaise lounge that had been reserved for Damian. The boy of the hour arrived right on time, with five minutes leeway to set everything up.

“So tell me again who you want to introduce us to, chum?” Bruce asked as he followed behind Damian. Alfred brought up the rear, a plate of fresh cookies in hand.

“I haven't told you yet, Father. Have some patience, it will all make sense soon.” Damian settled on the lounge, setting his crutches to lean against it before pulling something out of his pocket. It was a small metal container, he popped it open and pulled out what appeared to be a bright green handkerchief. Very bright green, possible letting off light, neon toxic green. Duke made a soft surprised sound. Damian spread the cloth out on the coffee table in front of him and smoothed it out.

“Damian,” Bruce said carefully, “what is that?”

“A summoning circle, obviously.”

Wait, Danny was serious about being summoned?

“Can… can you even summon living people?” Dick leaned over from where he was perched on the couch’s arm to whisper to Cass, who was perched behind Tim on the couch’s back. Tim and Cass both shrugged.

“Damian, dealing with the occult is very dangerous.”

“It’s quite safe, Father.” Damian pointed down at the white markings on the handkerchief, “Since all the sigils are on here permanently there is no chance of making a mistake drawing them by hand. This group here is his name, this circle can summon one person and one person only. The rest of these are for protection. And this spot here,” Damian tapped on a small circle within the outer ring, “is to activate it. It does require a single drop of blood, it was the safest way to make the circle.”

“Blood?” Bruce asked flatly.

“It will make sense when I call him, do you trust me?”

“I’m not sure I trust whoever this “him” is,” Bruce grumbled.

“But do you trust me, Father?”

Bruce sighed, “You promise whoever this is means us no harm?”

“Of course, I promise.”

“I met the young man last night,” Alfred said as he placed the plate of cookies in the circle. “I found him to be polite and sincere.”

“So this is to do with whatever happened last night that I can’t get any of you to tell me about?”

“We want to explain it ourselves,” Damian said firmly. Then he pulled out a batarang and carefully poked a finger. “Blood of my blood, I call forth the spirit of my brother, Danyal.” He touched the drop of blood to the handkerchief, which lit up as the air around them shifted. 

A figure began floating up from the circle, glowing white hair that waved as if they were under water, ashen skin, glowing Lazarus green eyes, a wide smile filled with sharp fangs. This… this wasn’t Danny, was this? The figure seemed to be wearing some kind of black jumpsuit, white gloves picking up the plate of cookies as they passed through the plate. They had no legs, after the belt the body just continued in a long tapering tail that ended like whisps of smoke. They were glowing, they were slightly see through! What was going on?

This wasn’t the boy they’d met last night.

“Father, my brother. Danyal, our father.” Damian paused, then added on, “And the rest of our family.”

“Hi,” the figure chirped, then seemed to shrink into himself as he looked around. “I uh… prefer to be called Danny. The only people who full name me are usually trying to kill me. Or send me to detention.”

That was Damian’s, or rather Danny’s voice alright. Even still had the faint midwestern drawal.

“Why do you look so different?” Dick asked in shock.

“It’s… a long story. Which I’m supposed to tell everyone.” Danny shrunk further into himself, looking miserable. “Please stop being so scared.”

“They are simply adjusting to your unfamiliar form, they will get over it,” Damian said firmly, glaring at everyone in the room.

“It’s not just fear, Dami, they’re horrified.”

“Sit down, eat your cookies. Alfred worked hard on those.” Damian patted the empty space next to him on the chaise lounge. 

Danny turned and spun in place to sit down, looked down at where his tail was curled up under him, made a sour face, then the tail was suddenly replaced by a pair of legs tucked under him. He shoved a cookie into his mouth, now sporting normal teeth from what little Tim could see. “S’good,” Danny slurred, glancing over at Alfred who merely nodded his approval.

“Some time ago,” Damian started, as if that wasn’t the most vague way to start, “I summoned Danyal the first time. I am aware it was foolish, I will not hear about it.”

“I called him dumb already,” Danny added in. “I mean, I had to go find someone to explain how the circles work and what makes them safe or dangerous first, but yeah, I called him dumb. Then I had some friends help me make this,” Danny reached over and tapped the handkerchief, “then I went to three trusted uh… mentors? I guess I’d call them? And made sure with each of them this thing is legit before giving it to Dami.”

Bruce hadn’t moved, still standing in front of the coffee table, slack jawed, staring blankly down at Danny and Damian.

“Is he okay?” Danny stage whispered to Damian.

“Perhaps keeping it a surprise was not the optimal option.”

That seemed to snap Bruce out of it, “I think I need to sit down.”

Dick hopped up to guide Bruce to the nearest open seat, which happened to be the chaise lounge. Danny quickly flew up and moved to float cross legged in the air just on the other side of Damian, as if he were sitting in some invisible chair. He munched another cookie before offering the plate to Damian, who took a cookie for himself.

Once Bruce and Dick had settled back down, Damian decided to continue the story. “More recently I needed to do a covert investigation, but I couldn’t allow any of you know.”

“You what?” Bruce asked, clearly upset.

“I know, he still hasn’t even told me what it was. And I had to cover for him!” Danny sounded so offended.

“I had Danyal take my place in patrol while I was away.”

“When?” Bruce asked, voice dipping down as he leveled a steely glare at Damian.

“You never noticed, I think that speaks for itself. So as a test-”

Cass and Tim bumped fists.

“-Danyal has been joining us on patrols for the last twelve days.”

“Almost made it the full two weeks too,” Danny said airily. “That reminds me, you owe me fifty bucks.”

“What? No!” Damian shot back angrily. “They found out before the two weeks were up, clearly I won that bet and you owe me!”

“They didn’t figure it out, that part of the bet is a draw at best for you. No, the fifty is because you’re the reason they found out. It seems awfully suspicious you got into some kind of accident right before the deadline, how did you break your leg again?”

“I did not break my leg on purpose just to win a meaningless bet!”

“Okay, both of you need to calm down,” Bruce said, looking unsure if he needed to step between the two squabbling boys. “You… had a bet?”

“I bet fifty bucks I wouldn’t give myself away before the two weeks were up, Damian bet fifty bucks you’d figure me out before two weeks. And they didn’t figure it out.” Danny turned to glare at Damian as he said that last part.

“Fine,” Damian conceded with a pout. “I shall venmo you your winnings.”

The ghost floating in front of them has a venmo. The ghost floating in front of them has a use for US currency. What is going on? Is Tim hallucinating?

Damian’s pout deepened, “I am still disappointed in you all for not noticing a whole extra person joining our patrols.”

“In my defense, I don’t patrol with you guys,” Duke joked.

“In our defense, we were suspicious,” Tim added.

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Damian, we had no way of even expecting you to switch places with your long lost dead twin.” Bruce paused, then looked over at Danny. “How did you pull that off? No offense Danny, but you are very easy to tell apart right now.”

“Oh, that’s because I can do this.” A bright flash of light washed over Danny, changing him back to the boy Tim had met the night before, only wearing baggy casual clothes instead of brightly colored armor.

Duke yelped and covered his eyes, “A little more warning next time? Damn, that was bright!”

“Oops, sorry.”

“Oh thank god, I was so worried,” Steph murmured from next to Tim.

“Well that was flashy,” Dick said.

Bruce seemed broken again, staring at the now living, black haired, blue eyed boy sitting cross legged in the air next to Damian.

“Okay, so what the fuck was all that?” Jason asked, motioning to Danny. “Are you dead or aren’t you? Because you don’t look dead right now.”

“Neither do you,” Danny snarked back.

“I’m not dead though.”

“You sure?”

“Not anymore,” Jason said stubbornly.

“No one ever comes all the way back, not anyone who was dead dead.”

“Please stop,” Bruce begged. Dick whimpered in agreement.

Danny ducked into his shoulders again, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Since it would be inconvenient for Robin to be missing at the same time I have a broken leg,” Damian said as a clear subject change, “and we have a perfect stand in who’s already proven himself in the field, Danyal has kindly offered to cover for me for the next few nights.”

“I managed to soup Plasmius last night, so that gives me two, three days max of not having to worry about his schemes. My friends can cover for me during the night so long as I’m still back home during the day. Unless a rabid ancient show up, anyway.”

“What does any of that even mean?” Tim begged.

“We could use some context,” Dick added.

“Right, I guess this is when the life story portion starts,” Danny said with a sigh.

“Perhaps you would prefer to talk over dinner?” Alfred asked from the room’s doorway.

“Dinner sounds great!” Danny cheered as he hopped to his feet, now firmly on the floor. “I’m not sure talking about dying and coming back is the best dinner conversation though,” Danny said absently as he and Bruce helped Damian to his feet.

“Alfred usually has a strict no work talk at the dinner table rule,” Tim teased.

“I think he can make an exception for someone’s life story,” Duke laughed. There were several murmurs of agreement.

“Alright, well I guess we can start with the first time I died,” Danny said as the group slowly filed out of the sitting room and towards the dining room.

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 重啟之極海聽雷/Reunion: The Sound of the Providence/The Lost Tomb Reboot/this thing has too many names

Reunion (I'm just going to call it that) is a 2020 action drama about the most specialest little babygirl in the tomb-raiding world, his two husbands, and the cadre of assorted weirdos they pick up as they try to follow a set of directions left by a dead (?) man in the thunder.

Imagine if someone showed you the Mandalorian, and you were like, gee, that was a neat little sci-fi one-shot! because you'd never heard of Star Wars. That was basically my experience watching this show, having no idea that the Lost Tomb franchise (DMBJ) was even a thing. Turns out that not only is there a whole big continuity out there with these characters, but that Reunion takes place a few years after the main story's resolution. Don't worry, though -- Reunion doesn't spoil you for that resolution. It doesn't spoil you for much, period. Look, DMBJ has a weird relationship to endings, okay?

I have written a more thorough where-to-start guide for DMBJ as a whole, so if you want to consider other entry points, well, that information is there for your consideration. Yet it is my opinion that this is the best entry into the overall franchise, and a fun thing to watch just in general, and I'm here to make my case for both of those.

The rest of this rec will assume that you have no familiarity with the DMBJ series. That's okay; you don't need any. All you need is to trust my five reasons you should watch this.

1. Old Man Yaoi

As you begin this show, you are introduced to the Iron Triangle. That's them in the picture up there. Left to right, you have: Xiao Ge, magically tattooed immortal hottie who just got back from ten years in [scene missing]; Wu Xie, our protagonist, who's just a little guy and it's his birthday; and Wang Pangzi, the literal best.

(And yes, Wu Xie is in his 30s and Pangzi is in his 40s, which is not technically old man anything, but ... look, if you watch, you'll see why I think I'm justified in calling it that.)

They are extremely married. They are a disaster trio of disasters so disastrous that no one else should ever be subjected to their chaos. They're going to make sure lots of people are, though, don't you worry about it. Sometimes those people even deserve it.

However, because the show (tragically!!) decides that Xiao Ge has somewhere else to be like 95% of the runtime, most of the relationship you get to see is between Wu Xie and Pangzi.

I'm saying this now as an old gay nerd who just this year celebrated her 15th wedding anniversary: I have never, never felt so represented in media as I have watching Wu Xie and Pangzi interact. There's a little wake-up song they sing together near the end of the show, and it just ... it packs so much character development into thirty seconds. These boys have been living adjacent lives for so long that they've made up their own little shared songs about the mundanities of daily living. That is just what happens when you marry your best friend and then decide to get old and weird together. Ask me how I know.

Look, if you want to know whether this show is for you or not, watch to the end of the first episode, to the part where Pangzi flips over the table. If your heart is filled with joy (as it should be), keep going.

Love makes a tomb-raiding syndicate family.

2. A fun-filled action-packed romp of nonsense!

If you're familiar with Hellblazer canon, this will make sense to you: Reunion is Dangerous Habits. If you're not familiar with Hellblazer canon, try it like this: Reunion is a terrible place to start because it plays on your extant affection for a character who gains a terrible status effect almost immediately. It's a also great place to start because it throws you right in the action with measurably high stakes and gives you a reason to build that affection very quickly.

I'm also going to warn you right off the bat: The plot of this show got cut to ribbons by censors.

See, the DMBJ books, being books, are allowed to get away with supernatural shit! So you've got zombies and ghosts and curses and monsters and immortality and all your other standard ooky spooky semi-urban fantasy trappings. But the DMBJ adaptations, being live-action, are heavily regulated in their content. This is why, in the early Reunion episodes, our heroes are menaced by human-looking creatures that are actually ancient mannequins made of leather that are piloted, mecha-style, by evil clams. Because evil clams are more scientific than zombies. I guess.

So yeah, the plot of this book already had to get mangled into a more "science"-compliant shape even before it made it to filming. The real problem is that a whole lot more of it got cut after it was all filmed and put together. I have read an explanation of what the actual storyline was supposed to be, and yeah, if you know what you’re looking at, you can see (and hear) the scars where major elements got hacked out with a weed whacker.

Therefore: You cannot expect this plot to make sense.

But that's okay! You're not here for the plot to make sense! You're here to watch some characters you love run around through ridiculous and sometimes beautiful labyrinths, trying to solve puzzles you're never given enough information to understand, all in search of the resolution to a mystery that had half its guts torn out before you got to see it -- and you are here to love it. If you have ever laughed and cheered your way through a Mission: Impossible film without pausing to care too much about the plot holes it’s dodging left and right, you are in the correct frame of mind to appreciate this. Just believe that whatever engaging nonsense the show tells you is correct for the time being and go with it.

You cannot watch DMBJ and care about the laws of physics. You simply cannot.

Do not, however, let me give you the impression that the shoddy plotting is accompanied by equally shoddy performances. A major part of this show’s incredible watchability comes from how the cast is shockingly good. There are some serious heavy hitters among the actors. A major part of why this Wu Xie and Pangzi are my favorite together is the incredible chops both Zhu Yilong and Chen Minghao have, to say nothing of their real-life affection for one another. (See that scar on Wu Xie's neck? That scar is there because Zhu Yilong commits to the bit.) Effortlessly charming Mao Xiaotong turns potentially irritating wunderkind Bai Haotian into a perfect precious weirdo baby. Wu Erbai's entire second-season character arc could have been unintentionally comedic, but veteran of queer cinema Hu Jun sells even the undignified moments as relentlessly tragic. And of course Baron Chen absolutely kills it with...

3. This giant fucking loser

This is Hei Xiazi. That's not his name, but it's close enough. Allow me to do a dramatic reenactment of my watching his first scene:

[camera pans over to him]

me: Ugh, I recognize this kind of wannabe badass character design. I hate his type. He's self-important, hyper-masculine, and just a big jerk, and the show thinks he's soooo cool. Barf.

[thirty seconds later]

me: Oh no. I was so wrong. I love him forever now.

This is because he is (as indicated above) a giant fucking loser. Yes, he's a good fighter who knows lots of things. He's also a wet potato chip of a man. Sure, he can get you into a headlock, but he can also annoy you into submission, and that's honestly more fun for him. My wife has used the phrase “Vash the Stampede-coded” to describe him. My wife is not wrong.

And the kind of ridiculous thing is, being such a loser is what wraps back around to making him cool again. He's a loser because he just doesn't fucking care. His masculinity is the opposite of fragile. You tell him to wear a dress and makeup, he'll do it -- and sure, he'll complain, but only because he enjoys complaining. He has no dignity. He’s tits-out. He's gender. He's the worst and also the best.

Hei Xiazi is a major character in the other installations, to the point where he and his boyfriend (more on him later) even have their own movie. But of course, I did not know this on my first watch, so I kept expecting the show to explain his whole deal. It does not, but you don't really need it to. He sees better in the dark. He doesn't age. He's a thug for hire. There, that's all the bio you need.

One of the things that makes him great is that he is the least sexually threatening person ever. Across all the properties he's in, he spends a fair amount of time with women -- sometimes in very close quarters -- and they are perfectly safe around him. I actually wrote a whole post about it once upon a time (warning for tiny spoilers for a series that isn't this one) wherein I claim that not only Xiazi but Reunion in general is the television equivalent of the shirt that says I RESPECT WOMEN SO MUCH I DON'T HAVE SEX WITH THEM.

That said, this loser does get a sort-of romance plot here -- and honestly, I find it very cute! It's not even the only instance in this series of a bisexual guy in a long-term same-sex relationship getting a girlfriend, and I like that other one too! Look, the handle of my DMBJ sideblog is @katamaricule because I joked that Wu Xie treats polyamory like a katamari, and if you don't move fast enough, you're going to be rolled right up into his gay little cuddle puddle.

This is not a show for exclusive ships; this is a show for inclusive ships. The Jiumen Association is a polycule. You don't even have to know what the Jiumen Association is to know it's true.

4. The power of friendship

This show has a lot of characters.

I'd say the supporting cast is divided into three categories: characters who have been in previous installments, characters who have not been in previous installments, and characters who probably should have been in previous installments (or at least mentioned) but who were only created for Reunion so we have to pretend like we've known about them all along.

There is no way to tell which is which -- which is part of my argument that this series makes a good entry point to the franchise.

Take Huo Daofu. Huo Daofu is a brilliant doctor masquerading as a donut stand operator who treats Wu Xie with all the cold disdain of a man confronting the person who left him at the altar years ago. On the one hand, yes! We do know Huo Daofu from a previous series, and we've known he's both a doctor and a bitch. On the other hand, oh, we have no idea why he's like this about Wu Xie, and we probably never will. The show just treats it like it's for an excellent reason, and you know what, from what you know about Wu Xie, it probably is.

Consider also Jiang Zisuan. One of the show's principal antagonists, Jiang Zisuan turns out to be the brother of ... well, let's just say it's someone whose having a brother really should have come up before this. It has not come up. (And that's even before we get into the issue of his surname.) His stated identity as that person's brother is so bizarre that my favorite interpretation is that he isn't actually that person's brother -- all the flashbacks we see are just his delusions about a relationship he's completely invented. But there's no way you'd know how fucking weird this is on your first run.

Then there's our friendly little support himbo, Kanjian, who shows up to all occasions with two tickets to the gun show and not a thought in that beautiful head. (His name just means "vest," which is par for the course when it comes to the author's naming conventions.) He was a lot more menacing in the last series (where they kept putting sleeves on him, geez), where most of what we learned about him is that you can loan him out to other tomb-raiding families. Now he's a golden retriever with great aim and a slingshot. It's an upgrade.

The trick is, you cannot be surprised when someone shows up and the show treats them like you should know who they are, even when there's no possible way you could know who they are. I mean, for heaven's sake, Liu Sang arrives in the middle of an obvious beef with Pangzi, the origins of which are never satisfactorily explained, while also having a giant do-I-want-to-fuck-him-or-do-I-want-to-be-him crush on Xiao Ge, which is also never satisfactorily explained. Whatever, you just roll with it. He's got good hearing, a bad attitude, and questionable taste in idols. Now you're good to go.

(I should throw in a special note here that Liu Sang is many, many people's little meow meow, and not undeservedly. For a fuller explanation of why that is, please consult this other post I made.)

Part of the fun of this big cast is the adorable interactions you get. All the characters have appropriately big personalities, and the show loves letting people you wouldn’t expect bounce off one another. It’s not your typical action-hero show where nothing happens without the protagonist in the room. There are lots of exciting combinations and tons of charming dynamics! Unlikely friendships form all over the place! Enemies become allies! Allies become friends! Friends become friends with other friends! Some friends become enemies again! You'll need a scoreboard to keep up!

This is not to say the show treats all its characters perfectly or equally -- one of the precious few main female characters doesn't even get a real name, for heaven's sake, and the less said about the brownface racism, the better. It is, at its heart, a dude show for dudes made in China, with all the troubling decision-making that implies. Where it does deserve credit, though, is in understanding that its supporting characters are actual people with personalities apart from their function in Wu Xie's narrative. Sometimes the show just asks "what if [random character A] and [random character B] had to interact?" and has fun considering the answer! Which is almost always a delight to watch, and sometimes even breaks your heart.

5. Amazing rewatch value!

And by this I mean the experience of watching this show is remarkably different once you have any understanding of the rest of the DMBJ universe.

For instance, there's a point where two characters are scuba-diving past some submerged coffins, and one character tells the other whose coffins they are. Working only on information Reunion has given you, you're like, oh, that's where they buried the guy who built this creepy place, that's a little weird. Once you recognize that name from other series, though, your reaction is far more, excuse me, they did WHAT to WHOSE corpses?

Or another point where a character you've already met is on a train, and there's a handsome gentleman who just happens to be riding with her. He hands her his business card! Aw, that's sweet, he seems like a nice guy! Well, no, Xie Yuchen is not nice, but he is one of our allies, and he's Hei Xiazi's boyfriend, and a lot of what he's doing hits real different when you have a fuller grasp on why he's doing it and for whom. (Honestly, a major reason to watch Reunion first is so you're not fully and appropriately upset by how your black/pink gays merely have one teeny tiny scene together.)

From the way the series treats the persistent absence of Wu Sanxing, Wu Xie's third uncle, I absolutely, 100% assumed that he was a completely new character to this installment of the series, an extremely long-lost relative that we've somehow conveniently managed to never talk about before now. So imagine my gobsmacked surprise when I went to watch a different series, set much earlier in the timeline, where the opening scene prominently features Wu Sanxing as an actual character in the present-day narrative! ...Well, sorta. Look, there's a lot of fuckery with his identity in earlier parts of the story, and fortunately you need to know none of it to understand Reunion. But when you do, it suddenly makes a lot more sense why Wu Xie talks about someone who was a major part of Wu Xie's adult life like he died when Wu Xie was nine.

AND THE FLASHBACK SCENE WHERE A-NING GETS KILLED BY THE SNAKE, AND YOU'RE LIKE, OKAY, AND THEN YOU WATCH ULTIMATE NOTE AND IT WASN'T LIKE THAT AT ALL look, I know there are kinda reasons for this, different production companies and all, but seriously, what the fuck

All of which to say is that the experience of watching Reunion the first time is, hey, this self-contained romp is a lot of fun! The experience of rewatching it after watching any of the other DMBJ installments is a transcendently wonderful head-clutching avalanche of one moment of recognition right after another.

And here's the thing: You will watch more. Reunion is a gateway drug. If you are interested enough to make it through all 62 episodes, you're going to be interested in watching more. Which is great. The English-speaking fandom needs more people. Come down into the tombs. It's great down here. We've got snakes and arguably unintentional homoeroticism. Join us. Join usssssssss

Are you ready for an aventure?

There are a couple different ways to watch the first half, but there's (weirdly) only one way to watch the second, so for both of them, I'm going to send you straight to iQiyi: Season 1 (32 episodes) and Season 2 (30 episodes).

And just so you’re ready when Reunion is done, here’s how you find the rest of the DMBJ series, in the absolutely non-chronological order in which I, personally, think you should watch them:

The Lost Tomb 2 (AsianCrush, YouTube)

Ultimate Note (iQiyi)

The Mystic Nine (iQiyi, Viki)

Sand Sea/Tomb of the Sea (Viki, WeTV, YouTube, also YouTube)

Also, there's a lot of movies and side series and other pieces that are worth seeing, and even a couple of full series I've left off the list, and you can just slot them in wherever. And maybe we'll get Tibetan Sea Flo-- IT'S HERE! IT'S HERE! And someday maybe I'll actually have time to watch it! What a concept.

They're so perfect. Perfect triangle. Perfect boys.

[ask-the-prose]

Conducting a War

So, your story takes place during a war. Maybe your characters are experiencing war or maybe they're waging war against other characters or groups. Likely, you are not a general or expert in warfare. How do you write a story that is set during a war?

Who's fighting who?

The first, most obvious, step is to know who is fighting whom and why. Wars are between groups of people. They can be a small clan, a massive nation, or even an entire planet or galaxy. Two characters fighting it out are not considered "at war" because they are representing themselves and settling an individual dispute, even if it is a high-stakes dispute.

Why are the parties in your story fighting? There are a lot of different reasons why two groups of people would go to war against each other, but most wars are over resources at their center. Disputes over land and borders, over who gets what crops and for what price, and even religious wars are usually about the resources available and scarcity. So when you're talking about war, you need to know what either side wants. Just like a character, your war parties need to have desires and stakes.

"Resources" can mean just about anything that society needs. Food, fresh water, opportunities for trade, minerals, metals, building materials, and wealth are all examples of resources your war parties can fight over.

What does it take to wage war?

Wars require resources too. It's not just about getting resources but spending resources as well. When nations go to war in the real world, there are opportunities for people to make exorbitant amounts of money and wealth by taking advantage of a wartime economy.

The parties waging war need people to fight their battles. They need to pay those people, arm them, feed and clothe them, and transport them to where they need to be. Where does the government or person in charge get the food, armor, weapons, and transportation? Where do they allocate those scarce resources? Oftentimes in war, those in charge must make sacrifices. Is there a portion of land that the person in charge gives up to protect another portion with their limited resources?

There are unlimited stories hidden in these questions, and a large base of world-building will help to answer these questions in depth. There are many opportunities for tension and rising stakes for your war parties in the event that the opposing side makes acquiring war resources difficult or impossible.

Types of Armies

Your armies tell you a lot about the resources available to your characters and how you can build your story and plot line around the war. So I'll discuss the differences between four types of armies that exist in the real world and throughout history. These are examples; you can change or twist these examples however best suits your story.

The first is a professional army. These guys are paid and trained by the state; being in the army is their entire job. The army can fill a number of different roles other than fighting, but their purpose is to provide martial protection to the people of their nation and carry out martial orders from the government or sovereign entity in charge. Important aspects of a professional army to consider: these soldiers are paid for their work, they are trained by professionals, and oftentimes they follow a hierarchy or chain of command. Most governments provide medical care to their professional armies, but this isn't required. The soldiers can be conscripted or voluntary.

Next up is a mercenary army. This army is also paid for their services, but they are not trained by the state, and they ultimately take their orders from the organization, not the government. The government commissions the mercenary army for their services. The government does not provide most of the resources required to maintain an army. They pay for the army but don't necessarily feed, arm, or clothe them.

A fyrd is a historical term that refers specifically to the Anglo-Saxon armies raised by different Lords and Thegns to protect their lands and shires. These armies consisted of civilians and able-bodied free men from the local settlements and farms gathered by the ealdorman. They were conscripted into the service, and they lacked formal martial training. Also, importantly, their provisions and weapons were provided by the soldiers themselves. Meaning you will see fewer long swords and forged weapons for the purposes of fighting and more axes and improvised weaponry. The purposes of the improvised weaponry are primarily as other tools, such as axes for chopping wood and knives for butchery. Any horses or mules brought along for work or fighting are the property of the lords or farm owners who provided them.

A militia is very similar to a fyrd; this army consists of civilians who are paid or conscripted into service by the government but are not professional soldiers. These militias may sometimes have training from professional soldiers among their ranks, but mostly they are civilians training themselves. The soldiers provide their provisions, weaponry, and armor, meaning that the wealth has to come from the soldiers and their professional jobs and not from their martial services. The militia is a more modern term, but it is marginally different in that most militias we think of today are voluntary and not conscripted.

Battle Strategy

This is where a little research may help you. Battles behave differently depending on different factors. What technology and weaponry is available to your war parties? Are we talking about bladed weapons or guns or lasers? Is your army a professional or mercenary army, or is it more like a fyrd or militia?

When setting up a battle in your story, focus on the differences between the two armies and how that may affect their strategy toward fighting or engaging the enemy. If your fyrd faces a professional army, they may encounter some problems regarding weaponry and armor. Your fyrd will struggle to match a professional army in defending against well-made weapons and professional training. How do they work to compensate for those weaknesses?

When looking at two equally armed and trained armies, a general or battle strategist will look to the terrain to plan a battle. Generally, controlling the high ground helps in battles. If one army has a heavy cavalry presence, your opposing army may want anti-cavalry measures in place. Do they have the space to do so? Urban areas will lend themselves well to guerilla-style and urban warfare tactics. Jungles and forests will look different to hills and plains, and deserts bring unique problems to a battle that a mountainous terrain might not.

What is the battle for? Battles have a purpose; otherwise, there would be no value to the loss of troops. What is worth the risk of losing lives? Does the battle have stakes? Some stakes that might be worth conducting a battle over include taking control of a river pass, allowing naval trade and travel, cutting off control of a trade route to the enemy, or invading an important town or city to process and refine necessary materials.

Ending the War

The war will eventually end if your characters are lucky. But what ends a war? Wars usually end with agreements between the two opposing parties following surrender or extension of peaceful negotiations. Negotiating what each party needs or wants is an art in and of itself. Each party must come to the agreement that waging war further is more expensive and less rewarding than ending violent opposition with concessions made by either side.

Conclusion

Wars and battles are like characters; they have needs, desires, and stakes. Writing your characters in a war or battle will hinge on the needs and stakes of the greater war and story. Important questions to ask are: what are we fighting for? Who are we fighting? And what happens if we don't fight?

–Indy

[epitome-of-an-openbook]

Fig was also being groomed by Porter - and not just groomed to help him, groomed to be a sacrifice and die. She is allowed to be mad about it.

And should that anger be turned at Porter? Probably, but she has spent a not insignificant amount of time trying to sus out how guilty various Rat Grinders feel about having caused Lucy Frostblade's death. Fig, whose relationship with her friends is more important to her than anything in the world, and couldn't imagine being the cause of one of her friend's death let alone making it impossible for them to cross over to the otherside peacefully or denying them a final resting place that would give closure to their family, spent much of her time trying to understand why the Rat Grinders would abandon their friend without even the respect of last rites.

Also Fig gave Ruben chance after chance after chance to do the right thing (and not just in this episode, but all season long) And on one side we understand Ruben's point of "You killed my friends, I had to psychic scream" but on the other hand Fig's friends are also dying and she is seeing all this work she's put in to try and get Ruben to switch sides and god how many spell slots has she used on this boy that could have been heals for her friends or attacks against Porter? And where was this energy for Lucy, left to rot in the forest, no way to cross over, too late to be revivified, where was her Psychic Scream?

In this moment, in Fig's mind there is undoubtedly a loop of "How much of my energy throughout this past year would have had more successful results if I had put it into my relationships or studies or music? How much help did I deny my friends by wasting my time on this guy?"

What she yells at him is mean and DEEPLY DEEPLY hurtful, but her friends are ALSO dying, she was ALSO groomed to be Porter's tool - why wouldn't she be mad? Why wouldn't she be angry?

Her words were particularly harsh, and turned to the wrong target, and Ruben Hopclap didn't deserve to go to hell (which in terms of hell's he could be trapped in - polka music untangling chords hell, not that bad). But crucifying Emily for playing Fig the way she did isn't the move, because she played her in a way that made sense for both the character and the stakes of the battle.

[soupthatistohot]

A rant about why BSD is hard to enjoy right now (in my opinion)

Originally posted this on twitter but I think tumblr folks will sympathize, as well. So, here goes!

The stakes are simultaneously so ridiculously high and also nonexistent. I can't shake the feeling that everything is going to return to normal after this arc is over (everyone we care about will be alive, the world will have been saved), so why should I care about anything that's happening?

To that point -- no one (I care about) stays dead!! So what if Kunikida "died" in the chapter today? I'm sure he'll be back. Dazai also didn't die in Meursault, neither did Fyodor (who actually literally CAN'T die!!). Akutagawa is now alive and well, too! As much as I hate excessive MCD (like in JJK), you need to actually kill off characters sometimes if you're gonna threaten it so often, because then every death lacks emotional impact. I've been, like, numbed to it atp.

There are so many characters I do not know enough about to care about. Who even are the hunting dogs? Bram? Sigma? Asagiri hasn't put as much time and care into characterizing them as the main cast, so when things happen to them I kinda don't give a shit long-term. They were introduced in the middle of a convoluted plot that has taken such precedence over the characters who are supposed to be driving the story.

BSD originated as a character-driven story, and that's what drew myself and so many others to it in the first place. It was bizarre in a charming sort of way. It was about the characters growing and developing as people as much/more as it was about the external conflicts going on. It almost feels like Asagiri has been trying to be too clever about this that he's lost the core of BSD: it's heart.

Similarly, there's a reason this is such a ship-heavy fandom, we live for the character dynamics! But our beloveds have been scattered to the winds for literal years in our time that we've lost most of that interaction we love so much. Give us back our found family dynamics!!

Kind of back to the point about the convoluted plot -- it eels like the characters' intelligence has outgrown us and Asagiri, to the point of seeming impossibly ridiculous. Like what do you mean Chuuya was faking it the whole time and then stopped a bullet from entering dazai's skull and got away from it because of the security camera angle?? what do you mean Fyodor dying by a vampire's hand actually means that he subsumes bram and then he sets off a tripolar singularity to create god and this was his plan all along????

Obviously I don't speak for the whole fandom and these are just my opinions. I'm not saying you have to agree with me or even that BSD is horrible. I just feel like it's kinda lost its way the past few years and I miss the animanga I fell in love with :(

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI SAE + ITOSHI RIN ; — your favourite time of year is when you finally get to see your brothers again.

warnings: f!reader, stepcest, threesome, hints at dp, all characters written 22+, rin is needy + possessive + sae only eggs him on, use of nii, minor choking. note: i’m back with more big bro saerin agenda <;3

it felt nice, when the same time of year rolls around where your step brothers sae and rin are able to put some time aside to spend time with family — coming together from their teams so you can finally see them in the flesh rather than on tv for once.

this year, the gathering is held at your parents house — a place that holds so many memories of when all three of you were inseparable. but all of you seem to fall back into place easier than you’d expect, there’s an unspoken sort of tension and you don’t know it it comes from your brothers own deep rooted competition with each other or something else.

but one thing you’re certain of is how tired you feel as you let yourself finally trudge down the hall, too exhausted to even flick on the bedroom light before you’re letting your fatigued figure bounce onto the mattress. it’s nearly pitch black and you can barely be bothered to put on pyjamas, opting only to kick off your pants as you roll deeper into the press of your comforter with a sigh.

“what’re you doing?” the low, ragged tone of voice is sharp when it sounds from beside you and you almost fall back off of the bed completely with the way it makes you jump. normally you’d question why your brother rin has currently opted to stay in your old bed instead of his own, but you’re too preoccupied with the way his arms seemed to have wrapped around your waist to stop your fall — pulling you against his chest as he tsks. “what the hell, you’re gonna fall.”

his breathing feels cool as it fans along your warm skin, too warm when your legs seem to instinctively hook around his own as you draw closer. he’s filled out since you last seen him, he’s grown in muscle and in height — more handsome than he used to be too as his dark hair falls over his sharp gaze, but your brother is just as pretty as he’s always been.

“rin-nii! you scared me!” your voice drawls, a whiney little sound that makes him grumble despite the way his arms curl around you to pull you closer. he’d always been protective of you, more openly so that sae was — maybe it was a younger brother thing but he was always eager to have you against him, like an animal guarding its prey.

“pay more attention then.” rin grunts, blunt and as straight laced as ever but his words are accompanied with his hands smoothing under the hem of your shirt, making you shudder when you feel his palms press against your bare skin and you swear you hear him swallow loudly at the contact.

“what’s wrong with your room anyway?” your quieter now, whispering in the space where you both take a laboured breath and you feel closer now, being able to feel the knock of his nose against yours as your head rests opposite his. his fingers squeeze and he leans in closer until his bare chest is pressed against yours, lips grazing your own before the contact leaves as the bedroom door opens once more.

“huh? we used to do this all the time, remember?” your older brother sae drawls from the doorway before it closes behind him, swallowing the small peak of light in the hallway as the lock clicks into place. it was true, you were used to sleepovers with your brothers when you were younger, being pressed between the two of them felt more like home than your empty apartment now ever has.

but it feels different now because you can feel rin’s fingers twitch tighter into your skin with every careful step closer your older brother takes, pulling you flush against his chest as he hugs you into him — protective, staking a claim.

“sae-nii?” you hum as look back over your shoulder, feeling the mattress dip under his weight as he pushes himself in beside you — he’s so close immediately, sandwiching you against his brothers chest but still so quick to pull your ass back until it’s flush against his hips. it’s like a challenge, taking back his half of you that rin was so greedy to keep and it only seems to spur on your younger brother as he grits his teeth.

“if you’re going to interrupt, get out.” it’s sharp despite the way his voice is still quiet enough for the rest of the house not to hear. rin’s hands squeeze at your hips and you find yourself pushing closer in the hopes it’ll make him relax — letting your hands smooth down the trained muscle of his abdomen until he’s melting into you.

it had always been like this, sae had always protected you like a big brother would — babying and spoiling you which only urged your younger brother to catch up, to prove he was better — he could make you feel even better. it was a petty competition that sae had never really accepted, one you were caught in between but you couldn’t lie that you liked the attention.

“how lukewarm, have you even been paying attention to what she likes?” although he’d never accepted the challenge, he still encouraged it as he let his hands graze their way around your hips — pushing past his brothers in favour of being able to swipe along the waist band of your panties before pushing underneath.

it was true, sae knew exactly what you liked — from your favourite snacks to the press of your pussy, softly swiping his fingers along your folds as he explores the shy layer of slick already gathered between them, exhaling when the movement only seems to pull you deeper into him and away from rin. “you’re already this wet from being between your brothers, sweetheart? seems nothings changed.”

“shutup. i’ll kill you.” it’s greedy, the way your younger brother is pulling you back— desperate for the attention hes lost as he watches your head drop back against sae’s shoulder, panting as a breathless mantra of his name drips from your lips. it should be fucking his.

so it’s quick the way rin’s kicking off his sweats and pulling at your hips, hooking a thigh around his own so he can feel the sinful press of your cunt against him instead. “rin-nii! you’re being rough.” he knows he is but you feel like fucking silk against him as he grinds himself into you, he can still feel the touch of sae’s fingers against your cunt — toying and rubbing at the sensitive bud but he’ll reclaim what’s his.

the first silky grind of his cock splits through your folds before it’s catching on your clit, making you both gasp and moan at the wet tacky sound that follows before sae is opting to preoccupy himself with your breasts instead as he toys with the sensitive nipples over the fabric of your shirt.

you feel rin’s palm press hard against your throat when your legs curl around his waist, pulling him close as he pushes you so deep against his brother that your back arches with want. “i’ll make you scream my fucking name.” it’s filthy, the carnal drop in his tone before he’s kissing you — licking into your mouth messily as he pushes his name between your lips.

but the sweet sounds that fall from you only seem to make sae harder as he grinds you into his brother’s touch, mouthing at the sensitive spots in his throat before he’s rolling the skin between his teeth — accompanying the sensitive press with a pinch of your nipples between his fingers.

“need you, please.” they both take those words for themselves as you roll yourself between your brothers bodies but the way your nodding, so desperate for more is instinctive. it’s driven by the way your desperately rubbing your slick along rin’s throbbing cock but still managing to grind back into sae — greedily trying to force them closer through each growled ramble from their lips before the youngest finally parts your folds and sinks into your twitching cunt.

“you’ve always had a disgusting habit of not sharing.” sae grits from where his lips press against the shell of your ear, words opted for his younger brother with how he’s hogging all of his little sisters attention. but you’re barely prepped and so fucking tight rin thinks he might pass out now that’s finally wrapped in you, his large palms dragging your hips down onto his cock as your body shakes — lips parting to moan and drool against yours as your fingers twist in his dark hair.

you already feel dizzy but it’s only emphasised by the sudden press of your big brothers cock against the swell of your ass before he’s spreading you wider, letting the tip tease the puckered hole as he grinds up against you from behind. he couldn’t let you both have all the fun after all, it’s been months since he’s felt the tight squeeze of your walls around him and it’s his job to take care of his younger siblings anyway, right?

“have you missed us this much? do we need to remind you how good it feels to cum around your brothers cocks?”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[do-you-ship-it-polls]

Do you ship it?

reason under the cut!

People say Kavetham is a good ship because they're roommates who bicker all the time and are basically a married couple already, but it goes so much deeper than that.

What if we met in grad school, where we were instantly drawn to one another because of our diametrically-opposed, perfectly-mirrored ideologies? What if we spent our days embroiled in intellectual debates with one another, fascinated by the way each other's minds worked, all while bonding over our similarly fucked-up family situations and the pervasive sense of loneliness we shared? What if you were a relentless altruist, and what if I was the kind of person who valued self-preservation above all; you, an artist and architect, and I, a linguist and historian; and what if we were so sure that our differences were the strength of our relationship that we decided to pursue a joint research project?

What if that all fell apart, because one day I could no longer bear to see you drive yourself into the ground for the sake of other people, and I said things to you that I could never take back, and it made you walk away from our friendship forever? What if, from that day on, we were no longer on speaking terms, and as we grew older and graduated and became successful researchers with jobs in completely different fields, our only form of communication was firing passive-aggressive shots at each other's worldviews through academic journals and tavern message boards?

And then what if, many years later, your self-sacrificial nature finally got the better of you, and you gave up everything to create your magnum opus? And, while everyone around you celebrated your victory, you were secretly at rock bottom, homeless and drinking yourself to death? What if that was when I found my way to you again? What if, in a moment of weakness, you confided in me about everything you had been through since we had parted ways, and I offered my home to you, then? As a temporary place to stay, maybe, while you got yourself back on your feet.

And just like that, what if we started living together, trying to work our way past the festering, unresolved bitterness between us, picking through the suffocating feelings of regret and yearning and the "I-hate-to-admit-it-but-I-still-care-about-you"s and the constant reminders that we once considered each other family in the absence of our biological families? What if we spent every single day since then trying to gather the shards of our old relationship and reassemble it into something on at least vaguely civil terms? What if that's not an easy task; what if, despite caring for each other so deeply, we have forgotten how to hold a conversation that doesn't devolve into an argument?

But what if, over the course of our story, we were each put into situations that make us realize that we are too precious to one another to keep wasting our relationship away on miscommunications? For example, what if you learned that all your mother wanted for you was to have a companion who would support you unconditionally (even when they didn't fully understand you), just as your parents supported each other -- and you realized that I am the one who fills such a role for you? What if, as we continued to face conflicts with stakes both big and small, we slowly got over our communication issues, and grew content with calling our shared house a "home"?

So, what I mean to ask is: what if we were roommates who bickered all the time and were basically a married couple already?

tag: @kanon-kun

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Stake Out (18+)

2003!Leonardo x reader

A/N: I know SuperQuest is in the BTTS season, but I couldn’t help myself.

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

You and Leo are still frustrated after having been interrupted a few hours earlier. So you decide to use this stake out to your advantage.

Warnings: Public sex, face fucking, rooftop sex, Leo trying to focus.

All characters are aged up.

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

The night stretched endlessly over the city, like a dome of inky blackness adorned with the glimmering jewels of stars. The distant hum of traffic and the occasional siren created a white noise that surrounded you, but in the stillness of the night, it was as if time itself held its breath. High above the bustling streets, Leonardo and you crouched silently on a familiar rooftop, your eyes trained on the rhythmic heartbeat of the city below. Or on a certain warehouse to be specific. A warehouse owned by members of the Purple Dragons.

A few hours before you and Leonardo had started your stake out, Donatello had managed to get information that Hun was waiting for a delivery. What delivery he did not know, but Hun had seemed stressed over his messages, leading Donatello to believe it must be important.

But it was what you and Leo were doing before Donnie called out of the leader in blue, that stayed in your mind, taunting you as time went on. Making out on his futon bed with his three fingered hand down your pants. He was just about to reach your core when Donnie started yelling about a delivery to the Purple Dragons.

So there you were several hours later, on a rooftop with your ninja boyfriend, still incredibly turned on from your heated make out session in his bedroom. But your boyfriend didn’t show any signs of frustration. His keen eyes were scanning the street below, analyzing every moment.

As the night deepened, so did the unspoken desires that simmered beneath the surface of your skin. You sighed in frustration as your mind started wondering what could have happened, if you and Leo hadn’t been interrupted. How Leo most likely would have fingered you, while telling you to keep quiet with his family just outside his bedroom, in the big open living area. Leonardo knew that sigh of frustration. It was one he had heard many times, during the countless nights he had teased you near the point of begging. Leo’s usually reserved demeanor softened under the celestial gaze, his attention drifting more towards you instead of the warehouse.

The subtle shift did not escape your notice. A mischievous smile crept up on your face. Leo also knew that smile. He knew it way too well. And whenever he saw that smile, he usually loved what came along with it. You and your dirty ideas never seized to amaze him. But as much as he wanted to give in, and do whatever you had thought of doing on that roof, he had to stay focused. He was on a stack out, a mission.

But as you crawled towards him, and placed your lips on his with a passionate kiss, Leo’s focus had to fight against the burning desire that had builded in him for several hours. He broke the kiss to look you in the eyes, surprised that he already was out of air.

“You know I want to, (Y/N). I really fucking want to, but I have to keep an eye out. They said Hun would get a delivery tonight”, Leonardo said slightly breathless, nodding towards the warehouse on the other side of the street.

“Who said you had to look away?”, you asked innocently. Leo looked at you in confusion, but as soon as you started to tie your hair back, he caught on. He got comfortable on the roof, making sure he still had a full view of the warehouse, while being covered by the shadows. You got down low, your face mere centimeters from his slightly pulsing cloaca. Leo was biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze flickered between you and the street below.

Leo’s grip on the roof edge tightened as you started licking around his cloaca. As you looked up you saw his mouth fall open, letting out a silent moan. You continued licking, deciding that this was the way you would make him drop. Teasing him like he had teased you so many times before.

Leo chuckled, biting his lips and shook his head slightly, eyes still on the warehouse. “You little tease”, he breathed out, one hand finding your head, stroking your head with his fingers.

As you continued licking around his cloaca, you started working on the buttons of your pants, struggling a little before pushing them down your legs. Leo caught himself staring at you in your blue underwear, thinking of what he would have done to you in his bedroom if he had seen them there. He mentally slapped himself before looking back to the warehouse, only to gasp as he felt himself drop into your mouth. The cold air around his pulsing erection taunted him, as you sat up to take your hoodie and t-shirt off, leaving you in a black bra. Leo wanted to strangle Hun. Had he not decided to get a delivery that day, Leo would have had you begging in his bed wearing that bra several hours ago.

Leo felt your warm tongue glide up his shaft, making his vision blurry for a short moment. He looked down just in time to see you take his head into your beautiful mouth, your eyes shining innocently at him. Innocent, as if you weren’t sucking and licking his dick on the rooftop of New York City, just opposite a Purple Dragon's hideout.

You took him all the way into your mouth, gaging slightly as he hit the back of your throat. How Leo fucking loved the feeling of you gagging on his dick.

While still keeping half an eye on the warehouse, Leo took your hair into his fist, before raising your head and his hip ever so slightly. You relaxed your throat, knowing full well what was about to happen. With small rapid thrusts, Leo started fucking your mouth, still deviding his attention between you and the street. Both of you knew that had this been happening in his bedroom, he would not be holding back at all. Just simply telling you to be a good girl and keep quiet.

You grasped for air as Leo pulled his now soaked dick out of your mouth, enjoying the sound of your heavy breathing as he gave himself a few tugs.

“On your back”, Leo breathed out, getting up on his knees as you laid down, keeping an eye on the still quiet warehouse.

Using your hoodie and pants as a pillow, you got comfortable on the ground, opening your legs wide enough for your turtle boyfriend to position himself between them.

With one arm of the roof edge, Leo held himself up high enough, not letting the warehouse out of sight. The other hand went to his shaft, giving it a few tugs before gliding his head between your wet folds, feeling you jolt slightly as he pressed against your clit.

Leo looked down for a few seconds, making sure he was aligning up with your entrance properly, catching a quick glance at your eyes. Pupils just as blown out as his, your lips parted, watching his every move with anticipation. There was no doubt in Leo’s mind. Once this stake out was done, he would take care of you probably in his own room.

Leo fought to keep his eyes open as he pressed into you. His mouth slightly open, letting out a low groan at the feeling of you around him. The hand he had used to position himself, was now on your hip, keeping you in place as he slowly made his way in, making sure you took him as far as you could.

Once he had made it all the way in, he settled for a moment, making sure you had adjusted to his size before he started moving. You started whimpering, even at his smallest movements, prompting Leo to place his hand over your mouth, gradually speeding up his movements.

You moaned into his hand, holding onto his arm to keep yourself grounded as your mind started fogging up in pleasure. Your breast bouncing inside of your bra, the small sight of it almost making Leo go wild.

As Leo’s thrust became faster, his eyes would flicker between you and the ever quiet warehouse on the other side of the street. He managed to catch a glimpse of your hand sliding down to your clit, rubbing yourself as he continued to thrust himself into you. He breathed out a curse, closing his eyes for a few seconds, before looking back down on the street. Still nothing. How badly Leo wanted to give up on that warehouse so he could focus on the feeling of your cunt, squeezing his cock tighter as your fingers started to move faster against yourself.

As Leo felt his climax slowly reaching, his thrust became more and more erratic. The was something deeply exciting about fucking you on the rooftop, knowing that the Purple Dragons could find the two of you if you were a bit louder. It did unexpected things to Leonardo’s head, just like the feeling of your walls closing further around him, letting him know that you too were about to cum.

“That’s it, baby”, Leo mumbled, keeping a weak eye on the goddamn warehouse. “Cum for me, (Y/N)”.

And that was all it took for you before you came hard around his dick, fighting to keep quiet. If it wasn’t for the fact that your boyfriend was the most talented person you had been with in bed, you would have been embarrassed.

It didn’t take long before Leo came too. His hips shuttering and he let his streaks flow inside you, one by one, riding out both of your highs, enjoying the warmth you provided him.

He pulled out and moved to the side, careful as to not be seen by the people on the other side of the street, when his t-phone gave a little notification. He looked at it, while you started putting your clothes back on.

“You gotta be joking”, Leonardo mumbled irritatedly as he read the text on the small screen in his hand.

“What is it?”, you asked.

“Hun’s delivery was just the newest copy of SuperQuest and it got canceled”, he growled frustrated. But as soon as Leo had said those words, a smile started creeping up on his lips, all frustration disappearing. “You know what this means right?” He took your face in his hands, bringing it close to him, making you giggle. You had a feeling you knew what he was talking about. “I can do this all over with you again in the lair, and this time be able to watch you”.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”, you asked with a teasing smile. “Hun could be up to something else”.

“Hun can go and fuck the Admin Wizard for all I care”, Leo said, getting himself ready to leave. “Now, get your clothes on so I can take it off of you again when we get home”.

[chaifootsteps]

just me or is the whole 'saying this is like fanfic is homophobia' framing kind of frustrating? like just to list out the tropes that have come up so far in HH/HB:

female character is written as an evil shrew who gets in the way of the m/m pairing

relationship that starts with rape/dubcon rewritten into true love (this one is probably more common in bad BL manga but I'm willing to bet there's some overlap)

character is the child of a mob family

portrayals of rape/sexual assault treated as titillating / used for drama

portrayals of domestic violence/abuse used mainly to get viewers to feel sorry for a character instead of making them sympathetic on their own terms

abusers/rapists being all powerful monsters solely to torture the victim as much as possible

characters are either Good or Bad and writing is heavy handed about driving this point home

writers has one character they stan and baby above all others and not only the writing but the world bends around them as they eat up more and more screentime while the actual main characters are shoved to the side

writer has one character they hate and they hate other people liking them so they derail them in the most obvious way possible

writer has one pairing they despise and go out of their way to make them seem familial to shame the fans who ship it

writer has intended pairings in mind but they just kinda happen regardless of how much work has been put in to give them real chemistry

the plotlines jump all over the place with no consideration given to the differing stakes each create or audience fatigue when too much is introduced at once/too many hanging threads are left, similar to what happens in unplanned serialized fiction. consistency and worldbuilding errors abound. conversations/events that seem like they should change the status quo kinda don't but there's so little way to tell which one is which that audiences cannot gauge the stakes and either stop being invested or just take the show as it comes since there's no point anticipating anything being done with a lot of its characters & plot points

too many characters, often some of whom don't serve much purpose but the writer is way too attached to to ever cut out (looking at you, Andrealphus & Vassago)

characters are rewritten on the fly. due to the lack of planning their arcs start and stop or get quietly dropped when the writer tires of them

pervasive attitude of misogyny - female characters are underwritten, bitches, dumb or accessories to the men. The world revolves around the (usually white) m/m pairing/s

the main premise is dropped in favor of shipping drama or character shilling

etc.

There's probably more but those are the big ones - like s1 wasn't perfect but s2 really does feel like it became fanfic of itself. I understand Viv being frustrated if it seems like a broad dismissive brush instead of specific critiques, but there's a couple of problems here:

when people give specific critiques she either misrepresents their points to frame them as bad faith (tacitly encouraging her fans to do the same), complains people keep making the same point or writes defensive threads about how people just don't get it because, for example, the show totally demonstrates Millie has qualities other than Wife and Violent

when people say something 'feels like fanfic' as far as I've seen they aren't immediately using it as shorthand for 'it has LGBT characters'. usually when they expand on their points what they're getting at is a lack of planning and a lack of experience or competency in the writer that gives the whole thing impression of being done by an amateur who's either young or still learning their craft, or both

it's the same lack of experienced hands that resulted in the opening of Hazbin being so amateurish and lacking the sense of having actual episodes until other staff writers were brought in to clean up the mess

like yeah I don't like the implication that 'fanfic=automatically bad' since I've read some good stuff myself and maybe people could be more specific; but usually this critique is coming from people who actually like fanfic, who've read a lot of it and who recognize the tropes from the worst fanfics out there in Viv's work

Viv's little "Um, actually, fanfic is good and queer and so if you use it as an insult towards my shows, you're homophobic" snit is one of the more rancid things she's said. When you lay it all out like this, it really does go to show how her stories embody all the worst, most harmful tropes bad fanfic -- and bad writing in general -- has to offer.

[darkurgetrash]

───  𓆩♱𓆪  ───

When Gortash first formed the cult of the Absolute, he’d somehow expected it to be more glamorous than watching drunken goblins through a scrying eye.

What he’d expected even less was to see his former lover, long-presumed dead, walking among them…

───  𓆩♱𓆪  ───

Characters: The Dark Urge / Gortash

Game: Baldur’s Gate 3

Words: 1,700

Rating: Teen+

───  𓆩♱𓆪  ───

When Gortash first formed the cult of the Absolute, he’d somehow expected it to be more glamorous than watching drunken goblins through a scrying eye.

Indeed, in his visions he’d fantasised of insidious masquerade balls, dangerous heists, and intellectual assassinations. Alas, he supposed that tasks of observation were important too. For the plan to succeed, everyone had to be playing their part, from the highest ranking ‘True Soul’ to the lowliest gnoll, and someone had to make sure it was all going accordingly.

After all, if not him, then who? That loathsome animal Orin cared more about her pitiful attempts to please Bhaal than their grand plan, and Ketheric was much too busy ruling over Moonrise Towers to worry about the proceedings of some pathetic goblin camp, so who did that leave? He alone. Besides, he was probably the only one sharp and observant enough to notice if anything went amiss.

That was the case, at least, since Mera was taken from him.

He sighed. How annoying that, even now, performing the most mundane task possible, he still thought of her. The way she’d be sitting beside him, delicately fingering her dagger while her slender feet rested on his lap. She just loved to distract him; tease him.

“What does this button do?”

“That would shut down the Steel Watch.”

“How interesting, what would you do if I pressed it right now?”

“It’s a temporary measure. I’d simply commandeer one of the Gondians to fix it.”

“Boring. What does this one do?”

“That controls the Scrying Eye.”

“I see… Hmm, how about we do a little contest to see who can get someone murdered using it first? The chosen of Bane or Bhaal?”

“That would be hard considering we can’t communicate through it, only watch.”

“Ah, but that’s part of the challenge, dearest Enver.”

She’d strategically stroke his thigh with her foot, raising higher towards his groin in hopes that he might offer a soft moan and give in to her playful, mischievous ways. Then, of course, he’d have to put her in her place, right there on the command console. His hands clasped around her pale neck, long black hair splayed behind her as she glared daggers at him through those divine, striking red eyes…

He shook his head. Pathetic. He couldn’t allow himself to lose focus like this, not when so much was at stake. Mera was in the past, probably now dead and wreaking havoc in some corner of Avernus without a single thought for her once partner-in-crime, so why should he spare one for her? Besides, he spent too many long and lonely nights staring at his balcony, wondering if she’d suddenly appear to amuse him, love him, torment him. Even if it was to assassinate him, he’d have been glad for it, just to see her again…

She’d have been delighted to hear such a shameful admission.

Gortash turned his attention back to the screen, where a red-headed goblin now stood, waving her hand in front of the eye.

“ELLO?? Dis fin broken or wot?”

He leaned forward to reach the control panel, bumping the eye into the goblin in a childish act of irritation. She jumped back, startled.

“OI! I fink dis thing ‘as lost its marbles. Whateva, come this way and I’ll introduce you to the drow.”

The goblin turned and hobbled towards Minthara, a drow noble Orin had selected to be a spokesperson for The Absolute many moons ago. She was followed by a small party, presumably a gang of adventurers who had been infected with the tadpole. Strange though - he did not recognise any of them to be True Souls, so why were they being granted such a high ranking audience?

Intrigued, Gortash watched them as they followed the goblin. He could not see the adventurers clearly due to his positioning, but he could tell that there were four - possibly two men and two women judging by stature alone. One of the men looked to be an elf with curled white hair and daggers equipped at the hip while the other was clearly a magic user, adorning a long purple robe with a quarter staff on his back. The two women were harder to analyse - being shorter and obscured from view - but they both appeared to have dark hair. This was, unfortunately, all he could discern for now.

The goblin and the drow talked together as the four of them observed. Gortash edged the eye slightly closer.

“…This mug helped me to escape. I say we stick a few holes in her, show how grateful we are!”

The goblin seemed to be referring to one of the women, who Gortash could now see was a human with loose hair hanging around her shoulders. She seemed to be the centre of the group, maybe even their leader.

“Oh dear. Your prisoner is one of the Absolute's favourites, Sazza. A True Soul…”

Minthara’s brow raised in interest as the goblin squirmed beneath her gaze. Interesting, so they were True Souls after all… Then why did he not recognise them? Was it possible they somehow slipped the system unnoticed?

“Nah. Can't be... they woz in the grove, hangin' around with the tieflins!” The goblin replied, backing away nervously.

“Undercover, no doubt. Carrying out the Absolute's will. Oh, Sazza - you have made a grave error…”

Gortash knew that this wasn’t the case; The Absolute’s will was his own, after all. Could this be the work of Ketheric or Orin behind his back? Some kind of plan to usurp him?

“… please, no! I didn’t know!…”

It was certainly a possibility. If these True Souls had found their way to Moonrise Towers, it would have been easy for Ketheric to recruit them as sole commander. But to position them in a grove filled with tieflings - what would be the point? Could there somehow be ties to Avernus at play?

“She’s telling the truth. She didn’t know.”

A shiver shot up Gortash’ spine as he heard a voice all too familiar. He stood and moved closer to the viewing screen, but the Scrying Eye was positioned too far away to clearly identify the woman that spoke.

It was surely a trick or some coincidence, but still, the woman sounded exactly like her. Like Mera.

The mere fact that this woman spoke on behalf of a lowly goblin and saved her from a deathly fate was proof enough that this wasn’t his once-partner. Mera was as blood-thirsty and cruel as she was cunning and beautiful. Not in the way her replacement Orin was - who acted like a wild dog, murdering left and right for senseless amusement alone - but in a way that was meticulous and logical enough to match his own intellect. There would have been no point in sparing a goblin, no, his lover would have remained silent as Minthara laid out her judgement, simply observing with deliciously cold calculation.

“… silence, wretch. And remember - you owe your miserable life to this one.”

The goblin ran from the scene and towards the eye, knocking into it in her clumsy escape. Gortash exhaled through his nose in frustration as the screen fuzzed and the audio crackled - all sound now unintelligible.

“Tamia!” he called out through gritted teeth. A cultist belonging to Bane rushed into the room at his call.

“My lord?”

“Send in one of the slaves to fix this at once.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Within seconds, a Gondian shuffled into the room with their head lowered, immediately beginning to fix the scrying eye. Gortash tapped his foot impatiently.

“It is fixed m-my l-lord.”

“You are dismissed.”

The gnome left just as the screen flashed back into focus and the audio returned - but now Gortash could see only Minthara, her gaze fixed on something in the distance.

He returned to his seat and slumped in defeat and annoyance. If he should ever meet this ‘Sazza’, she would face a punishment worse than death for the damage she caused - thanks to her, he would now have to contact Minthara personally to discover what transpired between she and the adventurers.

He returned his hand to the control panel and began moving towards the drow when a light indicating ‘physical altercation’ quickly flashed. Had the eye just been… poked?

He rotated the eye towards the source and…

His heart pounded heavily in his chest and long-dried tear ducts threatened to enflame. Was he even still breathing? Was time still moving? He could scarcely tell, as the world around him seemed to turn to nothing but darkness, the scrying screen a single spotlight.

For there, standing in front of the eye with a puzzled expression, was her.

“It can’t be…”

Mera.

She waved, crossed her arms, and peered deeper into the eye as if she were looking directly at him. Could she sense him there?

“… My lord?”

Gortash snapped back to reality as the cultist cautiously approached him. He realised then that he had shot up to his feet once more, lights flickering around the control panel and small alarms sounding as his fists throbbed against the deck.

He took a deep breath and calmly removed his hands from the panel, assessing the slight damage caused by his clawed glove.

“…How I detest flies.” He hissed. “You were dismissed, Tamia. Were you not?”

He heard the cultist’s breath hitch in her chest.

“My deepest apologies, my lord. I thought you had dismissed the Gondian alone, I-“

“Excuses are a waste of breath. Leave at once. Oh, and Tamia? Have a new slave come repair this and punish the previous one that let a filthy insect into my office.”

“Y-yes, my lord.”

The cultist bowed and left. The command panel still flickered and Mera still shone from the screen, her attention now turned to the elf who was glancing at the Eye with suspicion.

Mera…

No. No, it was impossible. Mera was not infected, she was not even still with the living - if she was, she’d have gone to him. Wouldn’t she have? It… it must be a shapeshifter, another trick from Orin meant to throw him off balance. So he was right, the others were plotting to wage war with him.

How foolish they were.

As the thought grazed his mind, the so-called ghost of Mera raised an electrified hand and swiped.

Then all faded to black.

───  𓆩♱𓆪  ───

[canmom]

Exordia - advance review

So. I finished the book!

This is not everything I will write about Exordia. That will come when the book is like, officially out, and I feel comfy spelling out the ending and quoting passages at length.

This 'advance review' is split into two parts. The first part is quite abstract, so I'll copy it here.

If Baru took an elliptical path towards its subject matter, by defamiliarising and rearranging the material of history… Exordia just gets straight in there.

How to describe Exordia? Maybe you could call it philosophy-driven science fiction, a thought experiment about ethics. Maybe you could compare it to Arrival, but shot up with black humour (it’s a book that could make me laugh and cry, sometimes at the same time) and real tragedy (at the core is the genocide of the Kurds in the late 80s, and the many betrayals and failures of American imperialism). It’s got a lot of action and military details, with a good few spies and soldiers as central characters, but broadly it’s one of the sharpest eviscerations of the US military and its role in the world I’ve encountered in Western science fiction.

The first two thirds or so lay out the driving, fascinating ‘what the hell is this thing’ mystery lined with all manner of juicy body horror and drama—yet the core high-concept premise is laid out almost immediately, you know what's at stake. The last third… escalates.

It’s full of the usual meaty Seth themes, iterating on the ideas first laid out in Baru. But it’s a distinct flavour of its own. That escalation is… well, I can’t describe in detail, not while the book isn’t even out, but it’s nuts. Not just for the scale, but for how convincingly it sells concepts that if I described them straightforwardly would sound completely ridiculous.

Equally, it’s a study of a markedly diverse group of characters thrown together from all over the world, each constructed with very evident care and nuance. It goes places that so many writers would probably feel ‘damn, that’s probably way too thorny for someone like me to write about’—and yet somehow, it manages to handle it gracefully each time. Certainly, you can perhaps inevitably tell when Seth is writing from direct experience and when they are (as they used to say back in the ’10s) Writing The Other, if only through what they assume you know and what they need to explain as much as everything—and yet there are always all these telling details (the scientist cursing out R) that make these characters come alive with convincing presence and humour.

(Of course the autistic-ass lesbians are my faves. It’s not as overtly a Lesbian Book as Baru was, but there’s a strong current of gay shit.)

A few other reviewers mention Crichton, but I haven’t read Crichton, so… I’ll have to make other comparisons. But then the thing is it’s very self-aware about existing in the fabric of science fiction. This book is set in our world, not in the near future but the recent past, in the late Obama administration. A lot of the things you might compare it to (including a couple I’ve mentioned, Arrival, Crichton) will be invoked as explicit, in-character allusions as these very sharp, funny, modern people try to make sense of their crazy situation. Sometimes it feels like Tamsyn’s use of memes as texture, but it never gets overbearing. The rhythms of Seth’s prose have been refined by Baru into a powerful suite of devices to make you cackle and go, noooo, Seetttthhhhh…

It’s a fascinating blend of hard-ish scifi, with the big ideas carried by surprisingly accurate higher-mathematical technobabble, and what you could probably best call occultism: narrative and ethics and gods and mythology. Seth always tends to deflect when praised for their ability to hop between a dozen different disciplines and pull them together into one unifying story, saying that they’re just good at looking up summaries, or that they had help from the right people. Maybe so, but it works, it passes the smell test, and Seth’s real genius is their remarkable ability to tie all these big grand ideas back into the world of character and emotion.

Since this is an advance review… I gotta be careful how much I say! Usually I assume you’ve read it if you’re going to and dive straight into the spoilers and long quotes, but here I feel like I should take a little care to avoid describing too precisely the exact beats of the story. (Rest assured I will give it the thorough treatment when it comes out in full).

But, I feel like I want to say something a little more substantial. So here’s a description of the mechanism. If all you want to know is whether you should read this book, hopefully I’ve given you plenty of reasons that the answer is god, yes, do it. If you want to know more, read on.

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly - Chapter. 10 Patrol

Hi Everyone! Couldn't wait a day longer to give you this next chapter. :)

Chapter Warnings: cursing, angst, talk of body image, smut, violence, blood, - Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!OC Plus Size Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel go out on patrol, he helps you feel good again. 3K

Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the book line divider. :)

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9

Chapter 10. Patrol

The next morning you find yourself walking outside the walls of Jackson with Joel Miller. How the hell did this happen? Oh yeah, you asked to be put on patrol, and he said only if it’s with him. Good lord. After the events of last night, you don’t really feel like talking which suits him just fine, you’re sure. But the longer you walk you realize he doesn’t feel as cold as usual. He walks close to you; tells you where you’re going and what’s next. You feel his eyes on you, checking on you. Maybe this is just high-alert Joel, no time to ice you out when your lives are at stake. Okay, fine. You’ll take this over asshole Joel any day.

You make your way to a safe house where you’re to check in and drop off supplies for emergencies when anyone might be stuck out here or finds themselves on their own. It’s basically a studio-sized log cabin. Just a couch, fireplace, bed and kitchen all in one room and a small bathroom. It’s fortified and locked up with padlocks that need codes to open them. Those codes get changed regularly and are only known on a need-to-know basis. If you don’t go on patrol, you don’t know them. Joel and you are to hunker down there for a few hours to keep watch see if there’s any traffic in the area, raiders, clickers or otherwise. You’ve got a walkie which is turned on to a certain channel for emergencies only and so-far, not a peep.

After about an hour keeping watch and feeling like Joel has been sneaking glances at you every other fucking second, you finally speak. “Joel, what the fuck?” He frowns furrows his brow and says, “What?” Right back to you. “Joel, you keep looking at me, what is it?” He sighs, classic fucking Joel. “Look, Ash, you’ve been quiet all day, usually I can’t get you to shut the fuck up.” You scoff and that turns into a breathy laugh, Joel looks at you with a small smirk. “Oh, Joel, you miss the sound of my voice? Is it just too quiet for you,” you say with a sing-song cadence as you walk towards him. Joel rolls his eyes and looks down at you as you approach with a sideways smile, “Let’s not go that far. Just want to make sure you’re alright.” Your breath hitches as he touches your arm and his deep chocolate eyes look into yours and you realize what he’s talking about. “Oh, you mean last night. Yeah, that was… uncool.” You say as you push your hands into your pockets and look away from him.

But then Joel grabs your chin in his fingers so softly, you didn’t know he was capable of being that soft and lightly urges you to look up at him again. “No, that last night, that was bullshit. I mean it. That boy wouldn’t know what do with a woman if he had the chance. He only said that shit because you put him in his place, which he deserved, and he was embarrassed in front of his dumbass buddies.” Joel moves his hand from your chin to your cheek and even though he looks full of anger, none of it is at you and you can’t feel an ounce of it in his touch. Only comfort, only warmth, only genuine care. “You’re right, Joel. And I’ve dealt with it before. It’s something I’m used to, and I don’t let it get to me but there were so many people there last night. I’m not used to having an audience and it just broke me down a little. But I promise, I’m fine. A little bruised but I’ve handled a fuck ton worse.”

Joel, even more angry now, walks over to the window and looks out. “Goddammit, but you shouldn’t have to be used to something like that. It’s fucking bullshit. No one should have the right to talk about your body but you.” You smile and walk over to him. Joel Miller’s a fucking feminist. Will wonders never cease with this man? As you get closer, he continues turning to look at you, “And if ever you allow anyone else to, they should be fucking worshipping you.” You stop dead in your tracks and Joel looks at you like he never has before, with so much want and desire you’re almost scared. He continues, eyes almost black now, “I heard you the other night after we talked at your place. Made the prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard. Were you thinkin’ about me, Darlin’?” Your eyes start to tear but you just blink them back, never taking your eyes off his. “It’s okay, I think about you, too. Know I shouldn’t… but I can’t help myself. Can’t get you outta my head.”

“Joel…” you whisper so quietly. “S’okay, honey, it’s just me.” Joel sits on the couch and motions for you to sit next to him. Without a thought, you obey. Sitting to his left, you wait to hear what’s next. “You wanna show me, huh? Show me what you did to yourself to make those sounds. Need to hear ‘em again.” You nod, saying nothing. “Okay, go on then, show me.” You hurriedly start to unbutton your jeans and unzip, when Joel says softly, “Slower.” Again, you immediately obey. Slowly pulling at your zipper and making room by pushing your jeans down your thighs a bit and pulling your underwear to the side revealing your already wet folds. Swollen and ready. Joel takes your glasses off and sets them on the table next to him. You hesitate and Joel senses it, “Touch her. She wants it, I can tell.” And your fingers start to caress your sensitive pussy. Slipping through your folds, gathering your slick and moving it around to coat everything in your arousal. You bite your lip to contain a whimper. “There she is. You sound so pretty, you know that?” Joel slurs into your ear and goosebumps breakout all over your neck as you close your eyes. “I think she wants a finger inside, don’t you? Why don’t you give her what she wants,” he says so close this time that your head falls to the side into his nose, and he inhales the scent of your hair.

With Joel’s instruction you take your middle finger and push it inside your entrance with a small gasp. “There you go, oh, good girl. That feels so good, huh? Go on, you can tell me.” With another gasp you whisper, “Yes, Joel. So good.” “Shh, I know.” He says as he pets your hair and runs his right hand down your left arm to your hand that’s splayed on the couch next to your thigh. He takes your hand in his and brings it up to your breast, squeezing it with your hand, using your fingers to pull at the budded nipple through your thin shirt and bra. Once he’s satisfied that you’ll carry on that way on your own he takes his hand and moves it down to where you’re touching yourself. “Can I help? I don’t think your small finger is going to be enough for her.” You nod, whimpering and moaning, your eyes fluttering open and then closed again. You’ve never felt this much pleasure in your life. Where the hell did he come from?

With that, Joel joins your middle finger with his own, much thicker and longer than yours, and the feeling is exquisite. Slowly he moves your hands out and back in making sure to push your palm against your clit as he does. The third time he pushes back in hard and fast making you both moan together. Both your heads rub together, until he pulls away just to watch. “Oh baby, she’s taking us so well. I want you to look,” he says but you can’t seem to move or think. He uses his other hand to hold the back of your neck and position so you can see what he’s watching, just beyond your stomach, you can see both your hands and then both your fingers appear when he pulls back, covered in your slick, then disappear back inside you. “I can tell she’s close baby, you feel her squeezing us?” You look up at him now and he looks right at you. “I’ve got you, faster now.” And he pushes your fingers in and keeps them there, curling your finger with his harder and faster now, more and more pressure. “It’s okay, let go for me, give me what I want, give me your come, come for me, you deserve it. I wanna hear it, I wanna feel it, I wanna see it, please. Look at me,” he commands, and you do and just then your orgasm hits you like a speeding train, “Oh god, Joel, I’m coming, oh god. Ungghhh, Joel.” Your pussy clenches you and Joel’s fingers so tight and spills your juices all over them. Joel stills your fingers inside you as you come back to life, whispering in your ear, “Good girl. Did so good f’me. I’m so proud of you.”

He takes your hand in his after you recover a bit more and takes his finger and puts it to your mouth, you take it in instantly, tasting yourself on him and he surprises you by taking your finger into his own mouth, “I need a taste too,” he says. And as soon as his tongue touches your finger, he makes the deepest moan you’ve ever heard, and you think you could come again just from hearing that. “Fuck, you taste so good, knew you would.” And he leans closer to your mouth, removing his finger and yours licking his lips and looking at your mouth, and you know he’s going to kiss you, something you’ve been missing every moment since that first kiss that morning in your bed at his house.

Skkkrch. “Joel!” The walkie comes to life. “Joel! You need to get back here now.” Maria’s voice comes through the walkie. Joel closes his eyes, his hand still holding yours when he whispers, “Fuck.” Then he’s up responding to the call. “Copy. On our way.” The silence is loud. You start to pull your pants back up and gather your things. “We gotta, I don’t know, we gotta get back,” Joel says with concern for Jackson evident on his face. “Of course, let’s go,” you say as you touch his arm. “Wait,” he says looking around, grabbing your glasses and instead of handing them to you, he unfolds them and places them back on your face gently, and smiles and you think this might be the moment, the moment you fall for Joel fucking Miller.

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

As you and Joel enter the gates of Jackson you run into Ellie, who looks panicked. Joel runs straight to her, holding her face, “What is it babygirl? What’s wrong?” Ellie, blinks back tears of relief seeing Joel and squeaks out, “It’s Tommy, he’s okay but he got jumped, he’s home with Maria you need to come there with me now.” Before you can speak Joel grabs your hand in his and pulls you along to Maria and Tommy’s place. When you walk in, Maria is icing Tommy’s busted lip, while he sits at the kitchen table holding another tea towel wrapped in ice on his eye. His arm is also in a sling. Joel stops dead in his tracks, but Tommy speaks first with a bit of a lisp from his injuries, “S’alright Joel, I’m fine, jus’ busted up. Reminds me of the times you picked me up in jail after a bar fight. I’ll survive.”

You squeeze Joel’s hand in reassurance, and he looks at you like he forgot you were with him but gives you a small, relieved smile. He lets go to sit next to Tommy and look at his injuries more closely. Maria motions for you to walk into the next room. “Maria, who did this?” you ask quietly. “It was Ryan,” she says equally as quiet. “Last night, Tommy dealt with Ryan after what he said to you, gave him some shit shoveling duty and extra work as a punishment for his behavior, he didn’t take kindly to it.” As she speaks, you’re filled with a blinding rage. You try to keep your composure and listen. “He snuck up on Tommy and sucker punched him, once Tommy was down, it wasn’t a fair fight. Look, we need to deal with this without Joel, he’ll go too far, we both know that.” Finally, with a measured tone you say, “Where is he? I won’t say anything to Joel, but I’d like to talk to Ryan myself,” Maria looks skeptical. “Are you sure you want to do that? He’s in the holding cell downtown.” You answer almost too quickly, “No problem. I’ll be back by in a bit, tell Tommy I’m sorry.” Before Maria can tell you that this isn’t your fault, you’ve snuck out the door.

Jackson’s holding cells are there to keep people after incidences of violence, theft, or other crimes, while the town decides what to do with them. Whether they are punished or expelled from Jackson altogether. As you walk towards the building where Ryan is being held, your heart hammers in your chest and something you spoke to Joel about less than a week ago comes back into your mind. “I’ve done terrible things.” And you had meant it. After you broke free from your shackles in the raiders camp you were trapped in, you found and hurt every single man you came across in that camp. You used whatever you had on you. At first, it was your teeth, then your fingers and nails. Your thick strong thighs broke a man’s neck. And even when they begged, even when they were the younger men, who were “just doing what they were told”, you didn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. After two years of being beaten, raped, tortured, mentally and verbally abused, you wanted to take control, you wanted to harm.

Ryan sitting there, locked in a cage, with a chair, his arms in handcuffs at his back. Some prisoner. You never had a chair. He didn’t seem to have a scratch on him, just a busted knuckle on his right hand. He hurt Tommy. Tommy was Joel’s brother, Maria’s husband, and your friend. He was family to you, and someone hurt him. That’s enough. A few people were standing watch. A couple of young women, Amy and Beck, who you’ve seen around town, regulars on patrol, and a slightly older man that was with Ryan at the table that night at the Bison. The one who smacked him when Ryan said those hateful things about you. “Bill,” he offers, nodded at you knowingly. “Could I have a moment with him?” The man instructs the women to take a break. He opens the cell for you and says quietly, “I’m here if you need but I won’t hear a thing.” You’re thankful for that.

Ryan looks up at you and laughs, “Come to kiss and makeup sweetheart.” You walk over and you can see the fear in his eyes when he gets a good look at you. Leaning in, you grab his pinkie and breaking it in one snap. “Ugh fuck, get off me bitch, Bill you see this?!” Bill stands there completely silent, and you finally speak. “You think he’s gonna help you, Ryan? He’s not gonna do shit. You got your little feelings hurt and you took it out on Tommy, well…Tommy’s my family. You hurt him, which means I can hurt you, the only difference is, I’m a lot more creative than you. You want to know all the ways a man can feel pain? How long a man can survive after a vein is opened? We can test that if you like. They didn’t want Joel to know it was you who did that to Tommy, they’re worried about what he might do to you, but they weren’t worried about me. They should have been.” In that moment you took one hand and racked your nails down the side of his face, tearing into his soft flesh, drawing a scream and blood from his face. Then you moved your mouth to his ear, speaking softly. “You’re going to leave Jackson, and in a few days, I’ll come looking so you better get as far away as you can. Go fast little boy, really fast or who knows what kind of thing I’ll get up to.” And you take a bite out of Ryan’s right ear as he screams again, and you spit it back into his face wiping the blood off your mouth on his shoulder.

Bill stands by as you leave, locks up and asks you to send the women back in. When you turn the corner wiping the blood off your glasses, Ellie is standing there looking absolutely mesmerized. Shit. “Ellie, you didn’t see anything or hear anything and we’re not speaking of this again,” you say as you keep walking past her. Outside you gesture to Amy and Beck and they walk back in, Ellie runs up to your side. She’s grinning like a little psycho and you speak again, “Ellie, stop, that wasn’t good or aspirational, you need to chill.” Ellie finally speaks, “That was fucking awesome, and he deserved it. I didn’t hear everything you said but shit, that dude was scared out of his mind, so it must have been good.” You look at Ellie and say plainly, “It was nothing, he was weak, anything would scare him. Don’t tell Joel. Or anyone for that matter.” Before you get too far, Ryan is begging to be let out of the gates, being guided by Bill. And you trust that you won’t have to deal with Ryan ever again.

Taglist: Taglist: @somedayheaven @guelyury @elegantduckturtle @indiegirlunited @cheekychaos28 @ghostofzion @harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @littlemisspascal

[erisweekofficial]

Tonight we're delighted to highlight @jules-writes-stories 🧡

If you're looking for a truly exceptional Azris fic, you have to check out Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows. The writing is absolutely beautiful, and it strikes the perfect balance between hurt and comfort. Every detail feels so carefully crafted, from the portrayal of Eris and Azriel to each moment they share. 😭

Also if you are into myth retellings, we are begging you to read this Azris flavored Hades and Persephone retelling that she wrote for Azris week this year. 👀

And be sure to check out allll the fics on her masterlist!

Read on to learn what drew Jules to Eris and what the hounds would say if given buttons. 🐶

Give us a name for one of Eris's brothers!

Sylvan Vanserra is the youngest Vanserra (other than Lucien). He’s quick to laugh, never takes himself too seriously, and readers have called him a cinnamon roll, which is fair. Eris tried to shelter him and Lucien, so he’s less guarded than the other brothers, but don’t sleep on Syl. He definitely has fire in his blood.

Give us a name of his hounds!

Chunky Possum. But let me explain, lol. When I was drafting Just Enough Light, I named Eris’s hounds after (just a few) of my favorite Azris writers. They were meant to be place markers while I thought of original names. But the hounds liked their names, so I left them, and gave some of them back stories. Naming the hounds became a way to show my appreciation for a corner of the fandom that is dear to me. My favorite is Chunky, only because of his backstory. And yes, it will tug at your heartstrings. 

What do you think it was like trying to raise Eris when he was a child? 

Short answer: he was a little fire starter with a smart mouth. Being so brilliant, the fireling likely found ways around doing what he was told and bent the rules to suit his needs. Eris asked questions that stumped his teachers (sometimes on purpose and other times because he was clever and curious). He was full of mischief and a prankster. That said, he was probably under constant pressure to perform, making him highly competitive. I could see little Eris as being lonely, learning at a young age that attachments are liabilities and love must be earned through accolades. 

What drew you to Eris? 

I love monsters and for me, Eris Vanserra is one of the metaphorical monsters of this fandom. He’s both a scapegoat and a martyr. He’s sexy and fetishized: put on a pedestal as often as he's reviled and burned at the stake. I love how Eris can possess all these contradictions and still exist as a character with traits we all universally recognize. He’s interesting and I’m always left wanting to know more. 

Who do you think Eris would want in his inner circle, if he was given a chance to build one?

Lucien. His favorite brother is a clever fox with ties all over Prythian and I want (need) them to be close with an urgency that’s not normal. Nesta Archeron. Eris is canonically drawn to her power and who wouldn’t want Lady Death to have their back? Bonus for Eris: it would piss Cassian off. Lastly, nothing would bring Eris more joy than stealing Azriel from Rhys...for so many reasons. 

If Eris gave his dogs buttons to communicate, what would their options be?

If one wants Eris’s respect, they’ll have to earn it. And one way to do this is through his hounds because they are excellent judges of character. Eris believes that his smokehounds are likely more intelligent than most of the brutes he’s forced to associate with. No, he prefers not to give names– very demure, very mindful.  After meeting someone, the magical canines communicate their first impressions of said individual by pawing at certain buttons with ratings spanning from “burn them alive” to “lukewarm, might burn later” to  “that’s your cauldron blessed mate.” I wonder what the hounds would say about us… 

[lazuliquetzal]

Comedy Is A Lie: I’m Going To Explain The Joke And It’s Going To Make Everything Worse

A buddy asked me why I cut a good joke from one of my fics and my immediate answer was “it killed the tension,” which, upon reflection, is a pathetic answer that is mostly inaccurate and does not even come CLOSE to how much thought I put into comedy in my writing. So I guess I’m going to write this out and excise the demon of over-explanation. 

Part The First: What Is Funny

The biggest thing I try and keep in mind when writing editing comedy (and anything, really, but especially for comedy) is rhythm. Lots of parts to rhythm! Most obvious is the word-to-word/sentence-to-sentence flow. Timing is a really important aspect of verbal comedy, which is why performance is a good medium to use. You get to control the delivery of every sentence and the spaces in between. But when you’re writing, you have significantly less control over how a reader will interpret the rhythm: all you can do is word your sentences as best as you can and give them rhythm cues via punctuation. (This is why I use so many em dashes and commas… I'm working on that…)

The other part to rhythm is on a more macro scale. There are jokes that will roll along with the flow of a story. For me, these are jokes that don't deviate from the context of the scene too much. They connect one subject to the next, or they build off of each other (a ‘yes, and’ sequence, for example). Alternatively, the joke is delivered in a really understated way. Like passing off something objectively batshit as status quo. Either way, they flow!

Then there are jokes that will halt a scene in its tracks. These are jokes that recontextualize a situation, or make a particularly large leap from the current topic. Or, you've been setting up for this punchline for a while and this joke is payoff. Or the joke is just really, really funny. These are the kind of jokes where you need to give the characters (or the reader) a beat to process them. Sometimes. We’ll get back to that.

Part the Second: How Is Funny

So the point of all that rhythm stuff is that comedy has a flow! If every line is a witty one-liner, none of the lines are witty one-liners! If every joke is a one-hit-KO, you have left your reader unconscious. Basically, if you are constantly being #Funny, you become repetitive and predictable, and that is the death of tension (and humor is a tension-driven element). 

One way to think of comedic pacing is setup (AKA building tension) and punchline (AKA payoff). It’s a balancing act: the more you build up tension, the more satisfying the payoff is going to be, but if you spend too long building up, you start dragging. You want the reader to think, “I can’t wait for the punchline!” and not, “oh my god, PLEASE get to the punchline already.” 

Fun way to make the tension last longer is to put all those flow-y connector jokes along the way. The reader’s anticipating the Joke, so by giving them little jokes, it meets their expectations in little ways so that they don’t get too antsy.

Hey, what’s tension, you ask?

Part The Third: Why Is Funny

When I read a book, there are two emotions that get me to turn the page:

I don’t know what’s going to happen next, and I’m curious!

I know X is going to happen, and I’m anticipating it!

That’s tension. (Something something semantics—I’ve never taken a creative writing class, I don’t have a vocabulary) 

You can have the calmest, low-stakes fluffiest fic in the world but as long as your readers are experiencing either curiosity or anticipation, Congrats! You have tension! I, however, like putting readers on fast-paced rollercoasters, so that’s the lens through which I’m tackling this section, which is: how do I use jokes in a story structure context? What purpose does a clown serve?

I mentioned earlier that some jokes are bricks to the face: they demand to be processed. Most of the time, I put high-impact jokes in places where I need the story to “reset” in a way: force a beat so the reader can process both the joke and the plot. That’s using humor to release tension. Literally. Laughter relieves stress.

But! You can also use those jokes to make the tension even worse! If you drop a bomb and immediately press forward, no processing allowed, you get stressful comedy. You want to laugh, but also a bunch of other stuff is happening and it feels kind of rude to laugh, so you get stressed. Sometimes humor can undermine a climactic moment, but if you use the right joke in the right spot you create shrimp emotions. If you’ve read DotF ch8 you know what I’m talking about.

Jokes also just make for good plot points? A lot of jokes are built on recontextualization. Everybody loves a good twist/reversal/surprise in a plot. Just make a joke and re-frame it, and bam! You’ve plotted! (Everything I’ve ever written started off as a joke.)

Wait, What Was The Question?

Why did I cut the joke? It was a waste of a brick to the face. It was too referential, it required the audience to know/agree with something completely unrelated to the story, it didn’t build upon what I already established. It ruined the rhythm.

I need to emphasize that, despite all my Thoughts on this, the way I appraise my jokes is 80% vibe-based. I probably could have kept the joke, and it would have been totally fine. But I would know. I would know that my intended rhythm is broken… it would haunt me until the end of time…