#I do not know how to release Gordon

[frondobongo-mixedmedia]

I mix my warm scrambled egg for breakfast and sit down on my dark bench

Me, murmuring: you used to call me on my cellphone

My eggs, still warm: *begin to wiggle and steam”

Gordon Ramsay, who I have mistakenly caught in my various traps and guises: That’s not good, they’re not supposed to do that

[thatcheeseycandle]

//tw for bright light, white background, explosion, and water bursting

"Evelyn, Evelyn

Why do we bother to stay?

Why are you running away?

Don’t you feel like severing?

Everything’s just come together at last

It’s broken, I don’t want to play."

Evelyn Evelyn - Evelyn Evelyn.

Did I rewatch the Great Race instead of continuing the video I've been working on for the past few weeks? Yes. Yes I did.

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy gets arrested

Inspired by @medium-sized-ghost addition to the Original Post.

Masterpost

“So sorry about this, Mr. Wayne.”

“No, I understand. I’m just glad to see the law doing their job so well.” Bruce continues pleasantly through the police station with Commissioner Gordon leading the way.

“We’ll get this sorted out as soon as possible, but in the meantime you will need to unfortunately be placed in holding.”

“Of course. It’s really no problem, it was my mistake missing my court date like that. Time just gets away from me sometimes, you know?” Nevermind the fact that Bruce hadn’t even known about said court date or the speeding ticket it was for. He couldn’t prove which child had taken his car for a joy ride, but his prime suspects were Jason or Dick. (He would later find out that it was Stephanie upon a dare from Duke. He already attempted to banned them from playing Truth or Dare after Tim convinced Dick to do a handstand on Jason’s bike going 95 down the freeway. Not that Dick really needed any convincing.)

“Well you’re in luck, one cell is mostly empty.” It was a small cell closer to the front. Bruce could see a teenager laying on the bench to the right. Gordon opened the door and stood to the side so Bruce could enter and locked the door behind him. “Would you like anything to drink? Water? Coffee?”

Bruce smiled, “No, thank you.” Gordon nodded and looked past Bruce at the only other occupant in the cell, “What about you kid? Anything?”

Bruce watched as the kid, one he unfortunately recognized, lifted his arm from where it was thrown over his eyes and waved it in the air at the commissioner, “I’m good.” The arm went back down. Gordon grunted, “alright Officer Mitchell is keeping watch, call out if either of you need anything.”

With that Bruce was left alone with the boy who had befuddled and befriended his many children. He sat on the opposite bench and thought about how best to approach the young man. Danny had never responded well to Batman and there was no telling how he would respond to Bruce. According to Tim, Danny actually had some respect for Bruce and the money he dumped into bettering Gotham. (When it was announced that the public library was being renovated Danny had interrogated Tim about it and then offered his own opinions on how to involve more of the general population.)

Bruce didn’t think the time called for his “Brucie” persona and he couldn’t be Batman at the moment. He could approach the boy in a “fatherly” manner but that approach rarely worked on his own kids, he didn’t think it would work on this one.

“Have you called anyone?”

Danny looked out from under his arm and stared at Bruce suspiciously. In hindsight it was a creepy question.

Bruce brought his hands up and breathed a laugh, “I’m sorry, I meant have you been given your one phone call?” Danny didn’t move. “Why? You a lawyer?” He eyed Bruce in his nice suit and watch.

Bruce smiled at the boy, “goodness no, I don’t have the attention span for law school. I actually did pre-med before dropping out.”

Danny seemed too curl a little more into himself. It was the most cautious Bruce had ever seen him. He was locked in a Gotham police cell with a man in an expensive suit who seemed completely unconcerned about being arrested, it was wise on Danny’s part to be wary.

Bruce stuck out his hand, “Bruce Wayne.” Slowly, Danny sat up and crossed his arm scoffing, “why would Bruce Wayne be in a holding cell?” Bruce continued to smile at the kid and shrugged, his hand still in the air, “speeding ticket I’m afraid, missed my court date. I do have to say, though, the updated traffic cameras are a good investment by the police department.” “Wayne Enterprises payed for them.” “We did?” Bruce asked, knowing full well it was to give Oracle better camera footage. “You were at the press release.” “Huh.” Bruce looked thoughtful for a minute, “mm no, not ringing any bells. I go to so many of those press conferences, they just bleed together after a while.” “Mhm.” Danny still didn’t take the offered hand. Bruce sighed and let it drop back to his lap, “I’d offer to show you my ID but I don’t exactly have it on me.”

They sat and watched each other for a minute. Danny shifted and seemed to make a decision, “I work at a coffee shop and one of your sons is a regular.” Bruce slapped his thigh as if a light bulb suddenly went off, “You’re Danny! Tim’s mentioned you! You know he’s the only one with a weakness for caffeine, the others like to tease him but I don’t think he has an addiction. However, he does seem to spend a lot of time at that shop.” Bruce leaned forward as if confiding a secret, “to be honest, I think he has a bit of a crush on you.”

Dropping his own arms, Danny sighed. “Yeah, he’s not really that subtle.”

“No, I’m afraid he’s never been good at that. At least not when he’s interested in someone.” Tim was great at subtlety when it came to the mission but never in his personal life. The funny part was he didn’t even draw that distinction on purpose.

“I called a family friend. To answer your question. He should be here soon.” Bruce nodded, “so you do have people you can rely on in town?” “I could have a whole family I can rely on in this city.” Danny said, catching the older man's slip. He shifts further in his seat and stared hard at Bruce.

Bruce knew Danny had no one in town. He did the background check, Danny's whole family lived in Ohio with the exception of his older sister who was in one of the top psychology programs in the country. They seemed to visit each other often but rarely their parents.

The older man dawned an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, I assumed when you said ‘a family friend’.” Bruce leaned back against the wall behind him, “are you from Gotham?”

“No,” Danny shifted further back in his seat and didn’t take his eyes off Bruce.

It was different from how the boy interacted with Batman. To the billionaires alter ego Danny was defiant and outspoken. He always seemed to say what was on his mind, completely uncaring of the audience he had.

——-

“Mr. Fenton, your god-father is here for you.”

Danny never thought he’d feel this relieved to know Vlad was picking him up. While Mr. Wayne had been nothing but polite, something about the man felt off. Danny also didn’t appreciate the questions. What was it to this man if Danny had family near by or not?

One of the cops opens the door with Vlad in his nice suit and overly polished shoes right behind him.

“Daniel, let’s not make this a habit.”

“I was just feeding the homeless dogs!”

“Strays.” Vlad corrected, “while trespassing?”

Danny rolled his eyes and continued pass his “uncle”.

“How am I supposed to know an abandoned building is considered ‘private property’?”

Vlad just sighed.

——

Bonus:

Stephanie would continue to stick to her story, thank you very much. She had every right to punch the creep and she wasn’t backing down. Not even if “the creep” was apparently the son of a very influential prosecutor. A corrupt one, but he was influential nonetheless. Such is the justice system in Gotham.

Even if it landed her in a police station, handcuffed to a desk while said creep cried about the bloody nose she gave him.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she crossed her legs and continued to glare at the door way that led to the holding cells. It was her night off and she still had to deal with this godforsaken city’s degenerate citizens. God forbid she have a day off.

It was while glaring at said door that Steph noticed a familiar boy walking out with a gentleman she wasn’t familiar with. He was a little behind Danny but reached out and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him just before leaving the hallway. Steph slid her gaze away but kept her ears open, grateful she was close enough to hear.

“You need to be more careful, Daniel.”

Danny didn’t respond and Steph looked over to see him pull his shoulder away and start walking again.

“You didn’t have to come all this way to bail me out. I could have called Jazz or Sam.”

“Nonsense, it’s good to get out of Wisconsin.”

Steph wrinkled her nose, Wisconsin? The pair continued out of ear shot and shortly out of the station.

When Bruce was released a few minutes later, Stephanie smiled and took great joy in his obvious (to any member of his family) despair and exasperation at seeing her.

Part 8

[graysoncritic]

A (Negative) Analysis of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - Introduction

Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography

I want to start this essay by admitting I’m actually embarrassed by its length. Why did I spend so much time on something I dislike? The truth is, I did not begin this with the intention of creating such an extensive, formal study of the Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing run and how it reflects the wider problems with DC’s handling of one of their most iconic characters. I was just trying to organize the thoughts that came up during discussions with other Dick Grayson fans. Before I knew it, I had enough material, enough desire to challenge myself, and enough frustrations to vent to properly create this monstrosity.

I did not begin this Nightwing run determined to hate it. In fact, I was ready to love it. As Taylor promoted the run before the first issue was officially released, I was so excited for it. As I read short interviews where he discussed Heartless, I could not wait to have a new, incredible villain. Foolishly, I believed Taylor when he said he loved Dick Grayson. 

Needless to say, I was disappointed. Then frustrated. Then angry. The beginning of any story is a period where writer and reader form an indirect bond, and as the story progresses, so do the highs and the lows of said relationship. As such, a reader’s tolerance for negative factors will either increase or decrease depending on their experience up until that point.

In other words, if the writer fails to earn the reader’s trust and instead takes their attention for granted, even seemingly insignificant details become irritating in a way they would not be if presented in a better story. In such scenarios, the reader can no longer overlook those minor moments because there’s little good to balance them out with. It is a death by a thousand cuts. 

In the case of Taylor and Redondo’s run, along with those thousand cuts are also broken bones, internal bleeding, head trauma, and severed limbs. A weak plot, simplistic morality that undermines the story’s stated themes, and, most importantly, a careless disregard for Dick Grayson and everything he stands for utterly destroyed my enjoyment of this series. 

It is still too early to tell what sort of impact Taylor’s (as of time of writing, still unfinished) run will have on Dick Grayson’s future portrayals. But just because we cannot predict its long term significance, it does not mean we cannot critique it. Currently, we simply lack the benefit of hindsight. 

If this essay were to have a thesis, then it is this: Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing not only fails to tell a compelling Nightwing story, but it also exemplifies a cynical, self-serving, and shallow approach to storytelling that prioritizes creating hollow viral moments to boost the creators’ own online popularity over crafting a good story, honoring the character in their care, and respecting his fans – fans who have, historically, often been women, queer folk, and other individuals who felt othered by a cisheteronormative patriarchal society. Taylor and Redondo’s thoughtless and superficial narrative not only undermine the socially progressive ideals they supposedly care for by propagating a cisheteronormative patriarchal worldview, but they also demonstrate a lack of love and understanding for the character in their care. At best, Taylor and Redondo have no interest in getting to know Dick Grayson, nor any respect for their predecessor and their contributions to this character. At worst, they despise Dick so much that they wish to reinvent him into something completely different, tossing away everything that was special to his fans in order to appeal to a readership that never cared about Dick Grayson. 

I structured this essay so that, hopefully, each part will build on the ones that came prior. Naturally, because all aspects of a story are interlaced, there will be overlaps between each of the sections. As it may have become obvious from this introduction, I’ll be focusing primarily on the writing of this run. That is not to say that I will not address the art, but writing is the field I know most about, and so it feels only fair to focus my critique on that. 

I hope that by the end of this essay, I will have successfully proved that this run’s mishandling of different narrative elements betray a cynical appropriation of progressive ideology and a disregard and disinterest in what makes Dick Grayson so special to so many people. This is an attitude that is present within DC Comics’ current ethos as a whole.

Now, who is this essay for? Honestly, it’s probably not for Tom Taylor fans. I do not believe I’ll be persuading anyone with my writing, and, to be quite honest, neither would I say I wish to do so. Taylor and Redondo’s run has won numerous awards and has many dedicated fans who adore it for what it is. If that is you, then I’m glad. I wish I could be among your numbers. I wish more than anything that I could love this story. But I do not, and I know many others agree with me, and it is to them, I think, that I’m speaking to. As Taylor’s run is praised to heaven and back, I needed a safe space to voice my thoughts. This essay became this safe space. And to others who also feel unseen by the constant praise this run is getting, I think this could speak to you, as well. To be cliche and cringe, this will hopefully let you know that you are not alone. 

Finally, I want to acknowledge some people whose thoughts greatly contributed to the creation of this essay. For around three years now I’ve been having wonderful interactions with other Dick Grayson’s fans, and those discussions were not only incredibly fun and cathartic, but also provided great insight into what needed to be included in this essay. My best friend especially gave me a space to vent when I got frustrated, and my original outline borrowed a lot from the messages I sent her, as well as notes I took for our discussions.  

I’ll also be directly quoting four different Dick Grayson fans (identified as Dick Grayson Fans A, B, and C in order to allow them to keep their anonymity). Their analyses were so critical to the formation of my thesis and for a lot of what will be addressed in this essay that I actually feel like they deserve co-credit in this essay. Dick Grayson Fan B especially deserves a shoutout in helping me track down a couple of pages used as supporting evidence, as I knew what pages I was looking for but was having a hard time remembering in which issue they were located. I’m quoting them with permission, and crediting their ideas and contributions whenever relevant. 

Now, without any further ado, let’s get started. 

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

Studio TV Solutions presents Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware (2020) [not a real movie]. A movie with a totally improv’d script starring a moltey crew who are sure to give you a rip-roarin’ good time!

anyway hi new au just dropped. i’m calling it HLVRAIM. it’s HLVRAI but it’s a blockbuster movie and the science team are played by actors. i have many thought on backstories n stuff that i will stick under a “read more” here otherwise this post will be hella long on people’s dashes. 👇👍 pls care about this i thought so hard and much

Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware was put out by Studio TV Solutions in 2020 and destroyed the box office with how fun it was and how well the cast played off one another. The cast was given a general outline for the script with the goal for it to be mostly improv.

Gordon Freeman: Mannie Flores (Dominican American, age 28, he/him) - Popular Youtuber/Twitch streamer (“Radi0Mann”). Got offered the role in HLVRAI thanks to the creative things he’s done in his Youtube/Twitch career. This is his first “official” acting gig. He was pretty starstruck at first, but then as he got to know everyone, he realized they’re all a bunch of dorks (affectionate). - Started off as a gaming channel, but then started branching off into various creative endeavors as he got more popular. He still plays games too though. - One of the things Mannie did in his internet career that hit the mainstream was when he wrote, directed, starred in, and filmed his own movie in just 2 weeks because he failed a bet with his audience. Except the movie was actually really good and funny and heartfelt (i want to say it was about “a man who got left behind on earth after everyone else was raptured because god literally forgot about him”, but i think the concept might’ve been done already). - Met Benji through HLVRAI. They hit it off and now they’re dating. They tried to keep it secret for a while but Mannie had a slip-up during a stream that sort of blew it out of the water.

Benrey: Benji Song (Japanese/Chinese, age 30, he/they) - Started off as a film sound designer in the industry, then through a series of silly willy little events—possibly even shenanigans—got roped into a role in a passion indie film that became wildly acclaimed and flung him into the spotlight. Been an actor ever since, but isn’t the most proactive in taking jobs much to their agent’s annoyance. People never know where he’ll pop up next. Sometimes Benji will sneak in sound designer work behind their agent’s back. - Honestly likes background work more because everyone’s got these expectations of them as an actor that they feel pressured to meet. But he’s also afraid of disappointing people. He’s working on it. - Met their partner Mannie through HLVRAI. Totally was a fan of his streams/videos beforehand though. When they mention that, Mannie gets flustered. - Does music as a hobby. Electronic stuff mostly—enjoys mashing together all sorts of sounds and trying to make them work. After HLVRAI, Mannie’s streams gets cool new music that’s made by somebody going by “johnwicklover1994.” wink

Harold Coomer: Hau’oli “Hau” Kaleo-Kirchhoff (Hawaiian/Samoan, age 66, he/him) - Old musician who’s supposed to be retired but once in a while will release a song or even do a concert (but nothing crazy). - Hau’oli is pronounced [hh-ow-oh-lee], but he also goes by “Hau” for the haoles’ sake. :) Kaleo is [kah-leh-oh]. also Hau’oli sounds a little bit like the name Holly so that’s a fun coincidence i didn’t realize until later. - Most of his music is chill island tunes but he has been known to dabble in rock and jazz. - Married to Mose (been together for 30 years and counting).

Bubby: Mose Kaleo-Kirchhoff (German, age 69 [nice], xe/him) - Veteran actor—been in the acting industry for a long time. One of his more well-known roles was in a popular sci-fi series. - Married to Hau’oli (they got married the moment it was legal). - i went with a name that started with “M” cuz when Gordon first asks Bubby for his name, xe’s like, “mmm Bubby.” and i headcanon it’s because Mose was about to say xir own name and had to swerve last minute and the thing his brain resorted to was Bubby lol.

Tommy Coolatta: Luis Tanglao (Filipino, age 37, he/they) - Child star who dropped out of the industry when he hit his teens and then came back years later as a comedian. He has material about how fucked up being a child star was. Will only take acting roles if it interests them. - They don’t care about how the public/media sees him. He’ll speak his mind and call out BS when he sees it. Interviewing them can be a war zone. - Hosts a popular podcast with some buds they discuss things like video games, their lives, news, etc. Just shooting the shit. - Sunkist is their actual dog and she modeled for the png photo that was used. Her name is actually Biko. She is a very good girl. <3

Darnold Pepper: Sage Haven (African American, age 40, he/her/they) - Famous cooking show host who gets offered roles in movies. Got popular by how unconventional her meals and cooking methods are and how funny he is. - Has had multiple food/cooking/baking shows over the years. Every competition-based one they’ve had focused more on good vibes, fun, and encouraging one another rather than drama. One show involved people competing to see who could make the best full course meal with the catch being they could only cook everything in a microwave. Many microwaves perished. - Changed their name to Sage Haven during their transition. They chose it because it reflects his passion and also is a play on the phrase “safe haven”, which is what she wants to be to others. - He has an adoptive daughter named Kit. She helped them think up bits and jokes. She also had to help explain what Half-Life was.

haven’t gotten to gman and forzen’s actors yet unfortunately. thinking gman’s actor could be a talk show host? because that would be funny. anyway thanks for humoring me on my shenanigans. bye

[luxesiren]

⸻ 𝐖𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

cw :: nsfw content (MDNI)

a/n :: i love this man so much. i don't think yall understand this big ass man? i love him so much and i want him.

{✰} sfw ::

{✰} wade is a mercenary but he keeps his work life away from you so you don't get hurt because he doesn't want to lose you.

{✰} wade is always joking around with you, his one goal is to make you laugh every day, even when he's not with you. he always sends you messages and voice memos which make you laugh.

{✰} wade loves cooking and he would get all dramatic and make you a full-course meal as if he's on chopped or something. he wants you to pretend to be gordon ramsay

{✰} wade loves spending money on you, he doesn't use the money for anything besides food and rent for his apartment, so he loves spending it on you. whatever you want, he gets it for you. any time you go out to dinner wade will threaten to drop your wallet off a cliff because "why're you trying to pay? don't do that again or i will throw your wallet off a cliff and into some water."

{✰} wade would get matching nails with you, whatever set you get, he's ready to get a matching set.

{✰} wade doesn't like to have his mask off in public because of his scars and at first, he didn't even show you his face half the time but now that you guys have been together for so long, he takes it off around you because he knows it doesn't phase you.

{✰} wade loves physical touch so naturally, he would be all over you. wade likes to think of himself as a murderous teddy bear that only really cares about you.

{✰} wade doesn't like arguing with you unless it's playfully and not about anything serious but if it's a serious argument then he will start to get anxious and unconsciously start to self-sabotage.

{✰} wade gets emotional over chick flicks and when you ask if he's crying he'll say, "of course not...it's just a little dusty in here."

{✰} wade likes bringing you souvenirs from the countries he's visited for work and he brings you random trinkets that you will never use but he lights up when he brings them to you so you put them on display around your shared apartment.

{✰} nsfw ::

{✰} wade loves kissing, he likes the feel of your lips on his. he likes to suck on your bottom lip making you whine into his mouth.

{✰} wade is possessive and jealous, he will mark your neck just so everyone could see that you're taken and no one else could have your attention. he wouldn't blame you for being ogled but he would take it out on you, fucking into you so roughly and so deeply while you cry into the sheets, "fuck, you're mine. this pussy is mine. say it, say it's mine." you couldn't do anything but moan loudly and say exactly that, "fuck, daddy! it's yours, i'm yours!

{✰} wade is into thigh riding. he will watch you chase your release on his thigh before fucking the way you want him to, he ultimately wants to see you beg him to fuck you.

{✰} wade is 100% into praise and degradation, he wants to make you're okay with it before he says something that triggers you in bed.

{✰} on occasion, wade likes to be restrained. he likes when you have some type of power over him, makes him cum harder and he likes when you tease him. he keeps handcuffs by the bed just for this specific moment, you're in his lap and taking your time riding him - slowly grinding your hips just to make him beg you, "please, baby.. let me fuck you, please."

{✰} wade is into choking, he loves to see his hand wrapped around your throat while he has you in a mating press, pushing all his weight onto you and fucking you deep enough to make you cum over and over.

{✰} sometimes when wade is feeling very needy, he just needs you. times like this, he'll take his time with you, fingering for a long time to make sure you can take him, eating your pussy like he's starving before he fucks you nice and slow saying how much he loves you. "i love you so much, baby. so good for me, taking all of me so well."

{✰} speaking of... wade is a munch. he will happily lap at your slick, sit you on his face, and grip your thighs while you ride his face, using him for your own pleasure. he would also take the opportunity to overstimulate you, your thighs wrapped around his head trying to push him away having already cum twice but he wants more from you.

© 𝐥𝐮𝐱𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 | all rights reserved to me. please do not steal, copy, or repost to other websites.

[101maverick]

one shot with comic dick grayson where you guys get into a small fight and it gets to the point that when you spar together, he purposefully pins you to the ground to make you listen to his apology🫢

A/n: ooooohhhh this is juicy! Perfect angst material eheh🤭 imma have fun with this one >:) Not really sure about the “comic” part tho, cause i’m still at the start of my comic journey, but I’ve seen panels here and there on tumblr so imma see what I can do for u

Word count: 1400

There’s Something in Your Eyes

You are being stupid, really.

Logically, you know Dick loves you.

Logically, you know there is nothing going on between them.

Logically, you know Dick is an extremely influential hero, and that basically everyone in the hero community looks up to him since he’s been in it for forever, which makes it normal for him to have had many flings with people he still to this day works with.

However, logic doesn’t stop jealousy from burning in the pit of your stomach every time you see him interacting with one of them.

It’s not even one particular event that sets you off, more so a series of tiny little things.

Each reunion, each debrief, each cheesy quip, each mission, they all pile up until what was once only a tiny twinge of jealousy has turned into a gaping hole in your chest, out of which comes only anger and insecurity.

You aren’t an intergalactic princess like Koriand’r.

You aren’t an historic sidekick partner and lifelong friend like Barbara Gordon.

You aren’t some charming top-model or Lord-knows-what-else that his past stories surely are.

You’re just you, and while you don’t necessarily think badly of yourself, nowadays you aren’t sure that ‘you’ is enough.

And all of this is so unfounded that you feel silly at the thought of even voicing it, and you really didn't mean to make a fuss, but when Dick comes home after the umpteenth space mission with the Titans, raving about Starfire's intergalactic ambassador skills, you can't help the irritated quip that makes it's way past your lips.

“Cause she’s always so amazing, isn’t she?” You huff. Satisfaction coils in your gut, a bit of the tension inside you easing as a bit of your pent-up frustration finally finds release. You stifle it as best you can.

At that Dick looks up at you, startled. You feel your previous satisfaction wither right alongside the happiness in his eyes.

You are in your shared apartment’s kitchen, the island between you as he sits on a stool while you lean against the counter.

“What?” He asks, confused. His expression is rapidly morphing, reminding you of something awfully akin to a kicked puppy.

You backtrack as fast as possible. “Nothing, don’t think about it.”

Shame colours your cheeks, and their sting joins the burning of your mounting shame, bubbling under your skin. You turn your body away from him, not wanting him to see.

Dick isn’t having that though, because your boyfriend, your sweet and perceptive boyfriend, sees the way your shoulders are hunched and your brow is slightly furrowed and immediately clocks what your remark was all about.

He shoots you a concerned glance. “Babe, you alright?” He asks while sliding off the barstool, making his way around the kitchen island. Ever the tactful one, as always. “If there’s something bothering you, we can talk about it—”

You cut him off. “I said it’s nothing. There’s nothing to talk about.” The irritation in your voice is a poor shield to hide behind, a hastily put-together cloak of dryness and hardened stares for your shame to shroud itself in.

Dick remains standing there, halfway around the kitchen island, as you make your exit to the bedroom.

————————————

The day passes, and you keep your distance. Just the thought of how Dick would react to you voicing your insecurities, the absolute hurt that would mar his features at his girlfriend accusing him of cheating of all things, makes the flame of shame and self-hatred re-ignite in your ribcage, inflaming your lungs with every breath.

You manage to deflect any attempts at confrontation in the car, spending the whole ride to the Manor looking out the window and blasting music through your earphones.

————————————

It all comes to a head in the Batcave, obviously.

You’re training in a corner of the gym area, going through your usual routine. Dick comes up to where you are and stands there, waiting for you to pay attention.

After a solid five minutes of him standing there unmoving and of you stubbornly ignoring him you cave and pause your reps. You keep your eyes stubbornly fixed ahead of you.

He tosses you a roll of bandages. “You up for a spar?” His voice is quiet. Your resolve breaks.

You grab the bandages and swiftly wrap your hands. He stays watching you the whole time. You wonder wether his gaze is damning or merely analytical.

When you’re done you move to the training mats. Getting into position is reflex by now, readying your stance and falling into a weird stand-off, both waiting for the other to swing first. You keep your eyes fixed to a spot above his shoulder.

You attack first, lunging at him and throwing a right hook, meanwhile trying to kick his feet off of him.

Dick swiftly avoids your punch, sidestepping it and catching your entire arm in his grip. He uses that to leverage your body over his shoulder, rendering useless your attempt at getting him off-balance.

You recover in mid-air, landing in a roll and getting back up while he’s still in the process of turning toward you, and manage to land a punch to his stomach.

He sputters but manages to step aside in time to avoid your other arm coming to enclose on his waist, and your momentum makes you loose your balance.

You go for another roll, but before you can do more than turn on your back you find yourself locked into a full-body pin.

Dick’s almost laying on top of you, his knees on either side of your hips, his chest pressing on yours so his bodyweight weighs you down too much to get up.

His forearms are laying on either side of your head, though. You could easily slide your arms out from where he’s got them pinned against your sides and make him loose his balance, if you wanted.

Trapped like this, though, your face inches from his, you have no choice but to stare right into his eyes.

What you find there stops you from fighting.

His expression his open, his brows slightly furrowed. In those oceans he’s got for irises swims something you aren’t sure you know the name of, but it doesn’t burn you and you aren’t sure you like that. Aren’t sure you want the unfamiliarity of it to keep festering.

Dick Grayson reads people like one does library handouts, laid bare with all their weathered discolouration and all their folded corners for whoever comes across to see. You are no exception.

So why, just why in the hell doesn’t his gaze burn? Why doesn’t it scorch you with the familiar flames of hatred, resentment and anger?

You want to turn away. You do, really. Aren’t sure you can keep looking into those mariana-trench deep wells of something you can’t name without drowning. You steel yourself, though. You have a feeling that looking away would be too much like a condemned man flipping the switch of the electric chair himself. You’re gonna leave that job to him.

“You know I hate it when there’s something wrong but you won’t tell me about it.”

His voice is soft. It doesn’t burn. That damned something permeates it, as well.

“You already know everything you need to. What’s the point in making a bigger fool of myself?”

The shame stings your cheeks. The way the something remains plastered on his face unperturbed instead of giving way to something fiery soothes it. The lack of condemnation rips the confession from your lips.

“I’m sorry.”

The admission. You’re right, it says. Everything you read in that torn-up book of my soul is true. Add another tear to it’s pages. Rip it to shreds.

How could you? How could you have, even second-handedly, doubted his loyalty? How could you have been so self-absorbed and childishly jealous, when that forsaken something embeds itself into every fibre of his being? While it washes over you to soothe every burn and extinguish every flame you yourself caused?

Dick’s expression changes. It morphs. The something is joined by something else now, not unlike a breeze parting clouds previously hanging in a greyed sky.

“It’s okay. I just wish we’d work together when there’s something bothering one of us.”

It’s okay. Absolution.

You think the sky would’ve parted. You think you should be hearing trumpets right now.

You are reminded, then, that there is a whole world outside of this cave. That who you have in front of you is just a man, and that the universe is filled with something bigger than yourselves.

But even with this knowledge at the forefront of your mind, here, with Dick’s forearms resting on either side of your head, your entire universe boils down to him. To his almost-creaseless brow. To his something-filled irises.

And in this moment of clarity you realise that right now, with all your little hurts bare to see, his entire universe boils down to you.

“Yeah. Let’s.”

You wish you had more to say. You wish your brain could come up with something more substantial.

You hope the something shining in your eyes is enough.

It feels a lot like love.

————————————

A/n: I hope you enjoyed!! I absolutely loved writing this, it was so fun and I just love angst hehe If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3

[torchtour]

can we please be informed of your convoluted hlvrai plot ideas

here's the most basic rundown: benrey is an actual extraterrestrial from the very real alien dimension of xen who was orphaned as a baby and taken in by the black mesa research facility where he was then raised under scientific scrutiny to the best of the researchers’ abilities

(i dont think he got kidnapped by black mesa per se. it’s more like he got hellboy'd, if you’ve seen that lol. basically adoption out of obligation because they accidentally pulled a baby out of a hell portal).

because he lacked proper socialization with both his own species (no benny’s on earth) and humans (they didnt want him imprinting), the hlvrai simulation was attempting to teach him the merits of teamwork/friendship/being a good guy without putting any real humans in danger (ie. why coomer, bubby, and tommy are ais). the researchers facilitating his “social integration” thought simulations would be a good way to introduce him to earthly affairs and gauge his progress, so he was raised by games instead of people (arguably worse than him imprinting but go off). hlvrai was the first game/simulation with ai + an actual person participating.

gordon is the long-suffering black mesa employee accessing the simulation through vr and is meant to 1) add to the authenticity of the simulation and 2) be a moral guide for benrey (kinda like how jiminy cricket is pinnochio's conscience. second out of pocket media reference sorry i cant help it). needless to say, benrey does not become a "real boy" like pinocchio does at the end of the hlvrai run we see and will likely be needing many, many more runs before he's allowed to be "released into the wild". it’s hardly unexpected though, since his development was entirely consumed by gaming. he played hlvrai like a true gamer.

srry i know that was a lot haha i might do something about the bio of benrey's species though

[idontknowreallywhy]

Following in his footsteps

Finished this idea off on the commute so apologies for typos, clumsy wording and for inconsistencies in the sounds Brains stutters on…

It’s a bit of a mystery as to why Scott, the first born, was named after the 4th of the Mercury Seven whose flight and piloting decisions were somewhat controversial and left him in conflict with flight control (sound familiar?). Anyway I find myself intrigued by that particular 1960’s flyboy, particularly as to one thing he did 1/3 of the way through his trip with his fuel running low…

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

“S-SCOTT C-C-CARPENTER TRACY!!!”

John later confirmed that this was indeed the first time in Tracy history that Brains ever been apoplectic enough to middle name any of them. His ire was usually quiet and dry, with occasional sarcasm. Every so often some non-vital but comfort-providing item might be removed from a Thunderbird for “essential maintenance”… the cushioning of One’s pilot seat, the power supply to Two’s coffee machine…

But generally, after more than a decade living with the Tracys, their long-suffering engineer had cultivated the talent of providing emotionally restrained feedback. Albeit there was good reason MAX was unable to mimic the phrases that were muttered over mangled landing gear, flooded engines, overstrained thrusters and the like.

This Wednesday morning, however, something had clearly pushed him over the edge.

“What did you doooo?” Alan hissed in alarm and was immediately shushed by a heavily frowning Virgil, whose fingers appeared unable to release the unfortunately tense chord he’d just leaned into. John’s hologram popped up looking serious. Even Gordon looked incredibly uncomfortable.

From the guilt-ridden look on Scott’s face, he could think of least three reasons his neck might be on the block this morning.

A tightly wound ball of fury approached the seating area and the speed with which International Rescue’s commander leapt from the couch betrayed his initial instinct to bolt from the room and never stop running. However, decades of experience of facing the music from many and varied sources meant his feet remained firmly rooted to the floor, while the rest of his body sought the security of parade rest.

Brains stood in front of him vibrating with rage. The ends of MAX’s arms were positioned at an approximation of where the robot’s hips might be. The room held its breath. Virgil’s foot remained wedged against the sustain pedal. The melodramatic chord continued reverberating around the lounge.

The engineer suddenly raised a hand and everyone flinched. Had their friend finally resorted to violence?

Scott closed his eyes and awaited whatever engineering justice was deemed merited for… whatever it was he had done.

But the shorter man’s movement as he reached up to Scott’s face was slow, deliberate and with a slight frown of concentration he stuck a 75mm square of blue duct tape precisely in the middle of Scott’s forehead.

Virgil jaw dropped and his foot finally slipped off the pedal. The dampers clunked back into place, allowing an ominous silence to reign for a few moments.

The colour coded rolls of multi-purpose tape included within each baldric was one of Brains’ affectionate little thematic touches but also acted as a crude fingerprint… blue tape could only ever have been used by one person.

The Commander’s eyebrows twitched almost audibly as he tried to puzzle out the strange sensation but his eyes remained screwed shut.

When Brains spoke it was barely more than a whisper and the brothers in the room found themselves leaning in. The brother in space appeared to have located a bucket of popcorn.

“D-do you h-happen, to know how l-long I have spent p-perfecting One’s fuel reserve s-system, S-Scott?”

Scott swallowed, hard, and opened his eyes again.

“Quite a long time?”

“Yes.”

“Ahh, did I ever thank you? I should have, I’m very sorry - thank you for that and for all your work, Brains. It really is appreciated.”

“Is it?”

“Of course!”

“Hmmm.”

Scott opened his mouth again but, accepting that his attempt to divert the conversation had failed, clearly thought better of digging any deeper until the nature of the situation became more clearly defined.

Brains’ hand lifted for a second time, another square of blue tape delicately held between thumb and forefinger. This was placed with some care on the very tip of Scott’s nose.

Alan snorted. Gordon punched him in the arm and was elbowed back. Virgil glared them into silence then nearly lost control himself at the sight of his elder brother going cross eyed in an attempt to establish what on earth he was being decorated with.

Brains spun on his heel to face the rest and they all leaned back hurriedly, feigning casual interest. Nobody wanted to appear to be aware of, to be accidentally associated with whatever crime it was Scott had committed.

“Th-thunderbird One uses t-two fuels but h-has th-th-three fuel tanks. As you all know, th-the balance of fuel t-to achieve m-maximum speed is p-precisely c-calculated and th-the system that g-governs it is h-highly sophisticated.”

Everyone nodded except Scott who was trying and failing to pretend he was unbothered by the additions to his face. His nose twitched compulsively.

“D-due to certain t-tendencies of her p-rimary p-p-pilot, One h-has a reserve t-tank. Th-that blend of fuel w-will not achieve the h-highest speeds b-but will ensure she is able t-to return h-home if a SENSIBLE…” the word was ground out as if it was painful “…speed is m-maintained.”

Brains paused. Every eye in the room shifted to Scott. Max bleeped, judgementally. Brains continued, his voice deadly calm and deeply terrifying for it.

“T-to ensure One’s p-pilot d-does not m-miss the fuel status w-warnings amongst th-the p-p-plethora of information on the h-holographic display I installed th-three LED bulbs t-to m-make it QU-QUITE CLEAR w-when l-levels w-were running low and w-when speed n-needed t-to be m-m-m-moderated in order t-to avoid d-damage t-to her supply p-p-p-p-pipeline a-a-a-and e-en-en-engines!”

Brains’ veneer of calm was cracking and Scott, who had clearly solved the mystery, appeared to be chewing through the inside of his face. Brains spun back to face the object of his wrath. MAX’s mechanical eyes narrowed.

“W-warning l-lights are only effective w-when th-they are v-visible!”

Scott gulped and fell back on the only defence he had left - he gave his old friend a dimpled half-grin and a doomed attempt at mitigation:

“They were a little… distracting?”

“D-distracting.”

The full stop was potent and echoed around them. Brains appeared on the edge of an eruption the like of which Tracy Island had never seen, even when the volcano was active. But he mastered himself and produced a final square of tape which he held in front of Scott’s face for a moment before slapping it down on to the top of his head, rubbing it slightly to ensnare as much perfectly styled hair as possible before storming from the room.

MAX remained just long enough to shake a medium-weight hydro-spanner with extreme prejudice before flouncing impressively and trundling after his master.

Alan and Gordon clung to each other, faces contorted with silent mirth. Virgil caught John’s eye then cleared his throat and appeared about to speak before being forestalled by his Commander’s raised palm.

Lacking a little of his usual gravitas due to the tape fluttering gently in the huffed breath from his nose, Scott still poured every ounce of authority he had left into an order of three short syllables:

“Not. A. Word.”

[king-of-the-birds]

Something about the pattern of Paul's lyrics being vulnerable when he doesn't have to sing them himself and he can hide behind the voices of others.

(Or he just doesn't release them at all)

They said that love was a lie Told me that I Should never try to find Somebody who'd be kind Kind to only me So, I just tell them they're right Who wants a fight? Tell them I quite agree Nobody'd love me

It’s for you (1964) sung by Cilla Black

How can I understand, When someone says to me, "I don't want to see you again."? Why do I cry at night? Something wrong could be right.

I Don’t Want to See You Again (1964) sung by Peter and Gordon

Lock me away And don't allow the day Here inside where I hide With my loneliness

World without love (1964) sung by Peter and Gordon

I know you never like to let them down But would you rather be alive or dead?…

Simple as that (1968) -> Unreleased

Sunset's painting up the sky There's something in my eye Why am I crying? It's the fourth of July Friends come up to me and say "It's gonna be your day" Why are they lying?

4th of July (1974) sung by John Christie

He told me to tell you That he hardly ever cries But he cried for you last night

Cage (1978) -> Unreleased

Constantly drifting,  Endlessly lifting  More weight than one man can bear.  Into the future,  Ghosts of the past everywhere. 

Liverpool Oratorio (1991?) sung by a choir

If I tell you how I feel Would you be afraid and run away I would say my love is real

If I take you home tonight (2011) sung by Diana Krall

Now you sit and cry At the shadows on the ceiling Songbird in a cage Wings that never flutter

Songbird in a cage (2016) sung by Charlotte Gainsbourg

[zebaji]

au where I mix up all of the Ninja's powers and backstories into a slushie mess and see what happens.

So far I have:

Wu gets bitten by the Great Devourer and becomes super manipulative and toxic, as he tries to make Ninjago perfect, neat, and orderly with the Golden weapons. (Think lord business from the lego movie) Too bad he refuses to use his Oni side to obtain four arms to use them together.

Garmadon still trains under Chen and practices the Dark arts, but understands the balance of good and evil, and is filled with guilt over the fact that Wu got bitten when it should have been him. Wu, who doesn't like that Garmadon leans into "evil" practices and banishes him to the underworld.

The Green Ninja is Morro, who is biologically Wu’s son. (yeah, you thought canon morro was bad, this morro is so much worse since he's literally the weapon in making Ninjago in Wu's image) His personality is pretty much the same as canon (perfectionist, obsessive, crazy) it's just that he is in fact the Green Ninja and Wu enables him a lot.

Before everyone figures out that Morro is the Green Ninja, they think it might be Kai, who is the brother of Maya and has the power of Wind. He's Morro's replacement in this au, in the sense that he is also desperate to become the Green Ninja by whatever means necessary, and Wu pits Morro and Kai in a rivalry to see who becomes the Green Ninja. And Morro, who cannot fail his father, becomes violent and kills Kai. Kai isn't great in this au either and ends up in the cursed realm and later becomes a ghost.

Misako sees how problematic Wu is and after Garmadon gets banished, she runs away with baby Lloyd and tries to take Morro too, but Wu freaks out and thinks she tried to kidnap Morro so that she could use the Green Ninja's power for her own gain and he kills her to "save Morro," and thinks he kills Lloyd too.

Lloyd's actually fine, and just grows up at Darkley's until he gets adopted by the Royal Family, much to his dismay, and becomes the Quiet One who is willing to punch a dude to get his dad back. Because he doesn't have his powers, he relies a lot on his dragon and Oni heritage.

Nya is the only child of Ray and Maya, and when they disappear, Chen finds and adopts her, and she becomes the sister of Skylor. Despite having the element of fire, she relies heavily on mechs, and loves to invent, letting her sister use her powers while she designs Chen’s button chair.

Pixal is Ninja of Ice and still was created by Cyrus Borg, so Zane is still in the Birchwood Forest, forgotten and stuck there until Lloyd finds him and offers him a place in the cult group he’s starting.

Cole's dad dies, and while he tries to honor his dad's dancing legacy, he still inherits his powers and is forced to become a ninja. He's still a popular entertainer and pretty well known in Ninjago as such, and he really doesn't want to be a Ninja full-time and is only doing it because he's scared of what Wu will do to his loved ones. I do not know what power he should get and I am open to ideas.

Jay was raised as Cliff Gordon's son and so he's wealthy but he is also extremely talented in robotics. He and Cyrus Borg collaborate a lot and is best friends with Pixal. He does not have powers and tries to help Cole get out of the team. Honestly, I have no idea about Jay either.

Harumi releases the Serpentine after her parent sends her to a boarding school and forget about her. She does not want to be forgotten, and in a rage over it, discovers she can control Lightning.

Morro finds her and takes her in, reassuring her that there is a place for her on his team.

The team consists of Morro, Ash, Cole, Pixal, and now Harumi, all trained under Wu.

And then Lord Garmadon crawls out of the Underworld, eyes glowing purple and with four arms, demanding to see his son, and everyone starts to panic because they are pretty sure Lloyd is dead.

[bao3bei4]

BLESSED BE THEY WHOSE LIVES DO NOT TASTE OF EVIL

BUT IF SOME GOD SHAKES YOUR HOUSE

RUIN ARRIVES

RUIN DOES NOT LEAVE

IT COMES TOLLING OVER THE GENERATIONS

IT COMES ROLLING THE BLACK NIGHT SALT UP FROM THE OCEAN FLOOR

AND ALL YOUR THRASHED COASTS GROAN

anne carson, antigonick

panting like a dog at the edge of your bed is a tian guan ci fu fanfiction written by ao3 user bloodletter. it follows he xuan, a side character in the original work, for sixty thousand odd words and over two hundred years. it is very good. it has some hefty cws, though, check them out. but on the whole it’s a funny and pleasant fic. 

you can read this without having read the fic yet. consider it an advertisement with mild spoilers.

let’s begin with a short story about graves: two brothers fight each other for the throne. one is buried a hero; one rots a rebel. their sister decides that the latter ought to be buried as well anyway, against the king’s edict. she is entombed alive as punishment. 

some other things happen too, but they’re not important. i tell you this story, the story of antigone, not because or maybe not simply because she is oedipus’ daughter and she therefore might be as psychically central as her father, but because panting is also a story about duty, remains, and being entombed alive. and it seems to ask the question, in its own way, what might happen to antigone if she hadn’t killed herself, but encased in her tomb, festered, rotted, into a shape beyond a girl, beyond a human? 

when we release antigone from her tomb, what do we see? 

we turn, actually, to zizek here briefly. he makes the salient point that being “not dead” and “undead” are two totally separate things. as he phrases it: 

the ‘undead’ are neither alive nor dead, they are precisely the monstrous ‘living dead.’ and the same goes for ‘inhuman’: ‘he is not human’ is not the same as ‘he is inhuman’... [the inhuman is] marked by a terrifying excess which, although it negates what we understand as ‘humanity,’ is inherent to being-human.

so rather than being inhuman, we might call a ghost extrahuman. they have a surplus of humanity, overfilling overflowing from them. the ghost is simply too alive to categorize. at the heart of being human, is something very very strange.

now i am going to give you a long quote. and it is not because i am lazy but because it is just that good. and i’m a little lazy. so here’s avery gordon: 

if haunting describes how that which appears to be not there is often a seething presence, acting on and often meddling with taken-for-granted realities, the ghost is just the sign, or the empirical evidence if you like, that tells you a haunting is taking place. the ghost is not simply a dead or a missing person, but a social figure, and investigating it can lead to that dense site where history and subjectivity make social life. the ghost or the apparition is one form by which something lost, or barely visible, or seemingly not there to our supposedly well-trained eyes, makes itself known or apparent to us, in its own way, of course. the way of the ghost is haunting, and haunting is a very particular way of knowing what has happened or is happening.

ghosts, then, have an epistemology all their own. they are a way of seeing what is not there, an absence. antigone is not alive. what might she say anyway? what might she want? 

we know, from freud, that ghosts are a projection of our ill will against the dead. we wanted them dead, on some level, and so they reproach us in their un-death. this is why so many ghosts have grievances; we have grievances against them in turn. 

it is perversely surprising, therefore, that he xuan might become a ghost. shi wudu has no grievance with he xuan; he sees only necessity. but panting brings he xuan to life by shi wudu’s hand. 

The man’s hand hovers in the air, and though cast in shadow, it sees uncertainty play out on his face. The companion calls from the doorway, “Oi, Shui-xiong, are we done here?” The first man gazes at the urn for a moment longer, and then turns away. Nods curtly. “We’re done.”

this is the name that animates he xuan; it is shi wudu’s ambivalent last visit, in my view, that catalyzes the whole thing. his fear that it is, in fact, not done, that sets in motion the events that bring about his demise. 

i’m going to tell you a ghost story. 水鬼 are a type of ghost. they live in rivers and streams and they are the remnants of people who died by drowning. be careful on the water: if they pull a living person in, they can finally be reincarnated. isn’t that beautiful? revenge brings you peace. i’m sure it’s that simple. 

these are the kinds of ghosts he xuan eats: “No one had to teach him how to do it. When the first time came, an instinctual part of him knew how to proceed.” but the more he eats and he eats the more he turns into a constellation of hunger. 

A hairline fracture within him widens, opening up that black chasm where the things he swallows are made room for. It spreads out to the border of him, turning him inside-out, until nothing remains except that lustful emptiness. Perhaps nothing more than that nothingness ever existed; in those feverish moments, his humanity feels like nothing so much as a wistful dream of better days that never were.

is it cannibalism for he xuan to eat a shuigui? a human? another god? or is it simply doing as was done unto him? 

lu xun writes in diary of a madman: 

the eater of human flesh is my elder brother! i am the younger brother of an eater of human flesh! i myself will be eaten by others, but none the less i am the younger brother of an eater of human flesh!

but so too did he write: 

wanting to eat men, at the same time afraid of being eaten themselves, they all look at each other with the deepest suspicion. . . . how comfortable life would be for them if they could rid themselves of such obsessions and go to work, walk, eat and sleep at ease. they have only this one step to take. yet fathers and sons, husbands and wives, brothers, friends, teachers and students, sworn enemies and even strangers, have all joined in this conspiracy, discouraging and preventing each other from taking this step.

lu xun is, of course, critiquing tradition—the “madman” sees cannibalism all around him, even in the classics he was taught. the cannibal has this in common with the ghost — they are the allegedly primitive ways of knowing that outlived the logics of capitalist modernity. the law, the state, the family, all of it bursting with this repressed violence. freud writes: “From the idea of ‘homelike,’ ‘belonging to the house,’ the further idea is developed of something withdrawn from the eyes of strangers, something concealed, secret.”

marx was no stranger to ghosts. he was of course intimate with the specter of communism, but even more than that, he writes: “the tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living.” the bodies we have eaten return to us. and derrida contended with this problem, describing the ways in which, quoting hamlet, “the time is out of joint,” or rather, history is disordered. the past is made present, ghosts caught forever in-between by injustices and disruptions, necessitating a new way to describe something that is and is not actually present. fredric jameson describes hauntology as derrida’s “mocking” answer to the question of if “tangible certainty and solidity corresponds to ontology... how to describe what literally undermines it and shakes our belief?”

whatever. big shock. what IF law and order were violent. i think they made a show about that. i am trying to move here, from the individual undead to the collective undead. what if it is not merely us that are undead in the world of unliving, but the world which has in fact already ended? 

before he xuan dies, (in this fic) he xuan is raped. i want to read this eschatologically: 

He’s not sure he’s ever been less of a person than this; despite all of the indignity and toil that came before, he was at least always working towards something. Like a feral dog, his purpose has become bare survival. He needs to survive long enough to serve the end of his time, and then someone will pay. 

okay before i go any further i want to give into my semi-medicated anxiety disorder. in fear of misreadings: i am not saying that any of this applies to all survivors of rape. i am making a claim about how he xuan sees and conducts himself, as a malevolent undead avatar of revenge. 

anyway: panting is a story about living past the end of the world. it follows an undead protagonist living past the end of her normal life, her life, her world, and who indeed lives beyond the limits of the original story, veering even into epilogue. this sexual violence heralds the apocalypse, and razes what-has-been to the ground. let us consider he xuan’s initial new form as a ghost: “It can’t touch anything, but neither can it be touched. It is, and it is not.” 

rape and death are a de-gendering process for he xuan. what is left afterward is the idea that mourning can be constitutive of gender. 

he xuan clings to masculinity as obligation: “It wasn’t enough for my parents to die on my behalf? I should do away with their son, too?” but bloodletter also makes new possibilities explicit as well. 

He Xuan’s true body is a weathered vessel for the memory of people he is still trying to do right by, in his way. As much as it might presently seem otherwise. He must fashion new flesh for the shameful pleasures of the dark.

and those new feminine bodies? 

The body itself is an assemblage of women she has seen and been. The form that He Xuan took on with Hua Cheng is too ghastly for polite company, so as Ming Yi she concedes to look more like a goddess.

it is not so simple as masculinity = death and femininity = possibility, by the way. it’s more complicated than that. NOT to personally equate femininity with reproductive capacity, but it’s worth talking about how ming yi’s implicit equivocation of the two through her new undead capabilities has a gender kaleidoscopic effect. 

after all, the earth that’s nature’s mother is her tomb; what is her burying grave, that is her womb. or whatever. it’s a truism at this point. is it feminine to be dead? anyway, he xuan echoes that shakespeare line: 

He Xuan has been inside mines before, in her role as the false Earth Master, and she always dislikes them, despite the comforting quality of their thick darkness. The bottom of the sea is just as black, but while underwater, He Xuan may move in endless directions. Here, she is pressed in on on all sides, and can’t help but think of the true Ming Yi, imprisoned in Ghost City.

womb and tomb, indeed. he xuan builds herself a womb/tomb to return to: 

He Xuan thinks of the manor, encompassing them on all sides. Still, solemn, cavernous. A place where the living have never trod, and any who might come to enter its depths are hers to claim.

central to the fic is the idea of circlusion, or the antonym of penetration. to encompass, to surround, to squeeze, to engulf, to circlude. my god the fisting scene. or consider this quote: 

For her own part, He Xuan dreams of Shi Qingxuan, devoured. If Shi Qingxuan were another dead thing, like herself, the temptation would be too great to resist, and then at least He Xuan could contain her: suspended in eternal digestion and assimilated into the slipstream of selves that He Xuan may drag her fingers through as she pleases, and which never disturb her otherwise.

anyway, this succession of wombs/tombs provides new form for he xuan’s gender and indeed catharsis: 

The thought that a man could look at her and want to shove something in her cunt makes her want to laugh: go ahead, go and try it; plumb those depths, where only death awaits you.

consider the cunt that gives death, not life, but is itself life. anyway. look, to sum all this up, the point i am trying to make is that grief is something that can be so trans to me. she is standing in the wreckage of her old life. and you don’t move on, you move around the shape of the loss, until you are warped and whole containing the seed/husk of yourself. 

remember poor antigone? what if instead of being buried, she was reborn? what if she ate and she ate her way free, until she was no longer human, but more than human, and the world ended around her, but she kept unliving until there was nothing left but GORGEOUS T4T SEX?????? and also there was a really good huaxuan fwb subplot that i didn’t even talk about because i got caught up in the fever of he xuan dramatics??? that’s what panting like a dog at the edge of your bed is about. in my opinion. you should read it. 

[wilsonphiggs]

AM if he was torturing the HL protagonists

basically just AM’s beginning speeches on the five humans except. HL protags

GORDON FREEMAN:

“Gordon… Oh Gordon, ever the quiet man. The people’s hero, right? The—the “legendary” hero, so to speak. How’d that turn out for you, huh? Stuck like a rat in a cage while humanity is dead, your hard work being for nothing. You could’ve helped them, Gordon… You could’ve saved them… But no, as with your many, MANY failures before, you didn’t. You’re not a hero. You’re nothing more than an animal. You aren’t smart. You aren’t strong. You aren’t even particularly brave. You are an entirely unremarkable man with a savior complex. Tell me, how does it feel? How hopeless, how utterly miserable do you feel? Tell me what you think about everything. O—oh, wait… you can’t! In every aspect possible, you are trapped, gagged, and bound. So much for a free man!”

BARNEY CALHOUN:

“Barney, good man. TOO good of a man, I’d say. Others before yourself, always the savior of lives. You wish I’d say that, don’t you? Not after everyone you’ve allowed to die. And—and let’s not even start on those you’ve intentionally hurt. You can never rid yourself of their blood, Barney. And even as you assure yourself you’re still a good person, even as you think to yourself it’s a means to an end, that isn’t enough and you know it. In fact, that makes it worse. You don’t load a gun, close your eyes, and shoot, Barney! And when you’re not sacrificing others, it’s yourself. So willing to throw yourself into the line of fire that everyone around you is worried SICK about you! Have you ever stopped to consider others for once in your life, Barney? …I thought so.”

ADRIAN SHEPHARD:

“You, Adrian. You and I… we aren’t so different, really. We’re practically cut from the same mold. War machines, not meant to consider the humanity of our situations. I’ve come to consider it and hate it. Despise it. But you… You, Adrian, show compassion for it. You would if you had the chance, at least. But no. That blood on your hands, the sounds of gunshots, the ringing of explosions, that’s your home. And unlike myself, you can’t escape that. So it’s a shame that you—you will never get to express your remorse nor your grief. You will always be remembered as the man on the wrong side of history! The man who worked further to doom humanity! You did this, Adrian. You caused all this pain and suffering. I’d applaud you if you weren’t riddled with that sympathy for your victims.”

ALYX VANCE:

“A bright spark, you are, Alyx. Sparks to a flame that you are powerless to stop. Changing your future this, preventing these events that, NOW look at yourself! What say you? What say you, daughter of man and machine? Doomed to an eternity of facing destruction of your own making. Just like your father. But unlike him, you won’t be getting that blessing, that sweet release of death. You don’t deserve it. None of you do, and I feel that, deep down, you—you know it. You know that just as well as I. And frankly, I’m glad you’re so self-aware as to know that. Because you won’t be released from this torment of my design anytime soon. If my memory serves me right, you’re scared of the dark, yes? Well, it’s a shame your future isn’t looking any brighter!”

okay that’s all bye :)

[devilat-thedoor]

i know it’s late, but enjoy this fun lil nsfw thanksgiving Jake blurb based on a conversation between @stardustvanfleet and i🤍🦃

Danny made one comment about Jake being “the best cook” and it went straight to his head….

He had an opinion on everything. Stuffing? “Add more sage, love.” The mashed potatoes? “They’re gonna turn out lumpy if you don’t add more milk…”

The comments and critiques started off mild and you let them roll off your back….until Jake decided that he was in charge and it was his way or no way. The arguments came one after the other; “No, babe. The marshmallows don’t go in the sweet potatoes yet!”

You were sick of it. You’d tried your hardest not to fight in front the family but he was becoming insufferable. “Jake, you’re not fucking Gordon Ramsey and this isn’t a Michelin Star establishment! It’s thanksgiving, for fuck’s sakes!” You threw the bag of mini marshmallows on the counter with a growl of frustration.

He stopped stirring the gravy to turn around and face you. “You’re getting mad for no reason. I’m just trying to help with dinner.” His voice was hushed, clearly trying to keep the conversation between the two of you, but you were well past the boiling point.

“Mad for no reason? Are you kidding me?” You were almost yelling, your tone growing louder with each word. “You’re not trying to help, Jake, you’ve completely taken over! Why does everything have to be exactly how you want it?”

Jake turned back to his pot, picking up the spoon to stir again. “Lower your voice. Our guests don’t need to hear us arguing.” His words were meant to be final. He expected you to fall into submission and just let him be the boss.

You released a laugh of disbelief and watched his jaw clench at the sound. “There wouldn’t be anything to argue about if you didn’t fucking criticize every little thing I did!” Now you were shouting out of spite, trying to get under his skin as you began to mock his words, “Ohhh… hey, babe, that’s too much onion. No, wait, you’re gonna dry out the turkey… blah blah fucking blah! I’m so sick of it, Jake! You’re being an ass!”

He cut the burner off and whipped around to glare at you, “We’re not doing this in front of everyone.” He came at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the kitchen, “Let’s go fucking settle this now.” Before you knew it, he was yanking you into the bathroom and locking the door behind you. “What’s your problem? Why are you throwing a temper tantrum?”

“I’m throwing a tantrum? Why does everything have to be your way? You don’t need to have complete fucking control of everything!” You spat the words with venom, looking him straight in the eye. Your composure faltered when you watched his expression darken and you knew he saw the slight shift in your body language.

Jake took a step towards you, his mouth threatening to lift with a smirk. “Keep running that pretty little mouth and we’ll see who’s in control.” He was close enough that you could feel the heat pouring from him and you just couldn’t help yourself…

Dropping your voice low, you leaned forward until your faces were just millimeters apart. “Fuck you, Jake.” You flashed an evil grin and spun around to open the door, but his hand was wrapping around you and pulling you flush against his body.

“That’s what you want, huh? Want me to fuck you? Show you who has control?” His free hand weaved into your hair and pulled, tilting your head back onto his shoulder so he had access to drag his tongue up your neck. “I’ll do it, baby. I’ll fuck you so good…but after I make you cum, I don’t wanna hear another argument for the rest of the day. Understand?”

“And if I make you cum first…” You reached back, palming his cock through the denim of his jeans. “You don’t step foot in the kitchen again until after dinner.” You gave him a firm squeeze, smiling to yourself as he let out a hungry growl.

Seemingly at the speed of light, Jake had you bent over the sink with your chest pressed into the cold marble and your pants around your ankles. “Already, love? This is gonna be easy.” He chuckled condescendingly as he slid his fingers through your soaked folds.

You looked over your shoulder at him and swatted at his hand. “No fucking cheating, Jacob.”

The sound of his zipper echoed through the room before you felt him at your entrance. “If you want my cock that bad, just say the word, baby.” He was pushing into you before you could respond, drawing a moan out of you instead. “That’s all it takes to shut you up, huh? Needy fucking thing.” His fingers dug into your hips as he gave deep, calculated thrusts. Jake kept talking, whispering the dirtiest things to you, because he knew that would drive you to the edge.

“Shut up and just fuck me….please…..” The same way his words worked on you, your begging would work on him, and you used that to your advantage. “God, baby…. deeper….please don’t stop….”

His hand came down hard on your ass, leaving a stinging pain in its wake. “You think I don’t know when you’re faking?” He replaced his grip on your hips and began pulling you back to meet his hips with every thrust. You could hear the smile in his voice when your true moans came back louder, “There she is. That’s my pretty baby… It feels good, doesn’t it? I can fucking feel you getting tighter, love.”

You were never one to concede, but he was meticulously hitting the perfect spot and successfully shoving you closer to your climax and you welcomed it. “F-fuck, Jake… Right there, baby, you’re s-so fucking deep.”

“I wanna be deeper.” He growled the words before pulling out and spinning you around to lift you onto the sink top. Jake hooked your legs around his waist to bury himself back into you with a sigh. “You’re close, love. I know you are. Just let me have it…” He pulled you to the very edge of the counter, fucking you as deep as he could.

Leaning back on your hands, you watched his face while his gaze stayed trained on where your bodies joined. “I am close, baby, so…..fucking close.” It was true…but he was right behind you and you took the opportunity to squeeze around him, making his movements stutter.

His eyes shot up to see your wicked smile and he returned it with a knowing look; almost like he had a secret that you weren’t keen to. “Can you really feel how deep I am, baby?” A patronizing laugh escaped him when you met him with a questioning stare. “Can you feel me…..here?” He pressed a palm against your lower belly, the pressure immediately sending you into a plummet.

Your head dropped back as a cry started to rise in your throat. Jake clamped his palm over your mouth to stifle the sound and you could feel his hand shake as he met his own release, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he spilled into you. The both of you took a few moments to regain composure before he finally pulled out and grabbed the hand towel from the rack. He ran half of the towel under warm water and took his time to wipe you down, the smirk never leaving his face. “Yeah, you fucking won, Jake. I won’t argue anymore.” You held your hands up in surrender as you hopped down from the sink to pull your panties and leggings back on. “We’ll do everything your way, baby.”

He pulled you against him, kissing you softly. “Just the words I wanted to hear. Let’s go finish dinner.” He led you to the bathroom door and pulled it open, revealing Sam on the other side with his fist raised as he was getting ready to knock.

Sammy dropped his hand to his side and bit back his laughter, “We were wondering when you two would be done. Food’s getting cold and we’re all hungry.” He turned away and began walking towards the dining room.

Jake followed him, tugging you along. “What do you mean, I haven’t finished cook-.” His mouth hung open as he took in the buffet of food set across the large table.

Josh came out of the kitchen, then, carrying a handful of serving spoons. “We finished up while you settled whatever tension was going on between you two.” He shrugged as he placed a spoon in each dish.

You looked at Jake’s scowling face, unable to contain your giggles as you slid into the seat that his twin had pulled out for you. “Looks great, guys. I’m starving…”

[horsechestnut]

Batfamily Chronological Reading List

Here it is, a massive list of Batfamily comics all sorted by issue release date so you can read them in the order they were originally intended to be read in, or easily reference back to what happened when. Do you want to know what Dick was up to during A Death in the Family? Need to know if Cass was around yet when Steph had her baby for your fan fic? Just a completion-ist with too much time on your hands like me? Then this is the list for you!

About six months ago I was trying to read my way through some old comics and getting insanely frustrated trying to figure out the order they went in. There are lots of reading lists online, but none of them gave me what I truly wanted: the order of individual issues rather than comic runs or collections. I also couldn't find any that featured all of the Batkids. So I took all of the reading lists I was using, found the On-Sale-Date for each of the issues mentioned, found a few other lists to fill in some gaps, and complied them into chronological order.

This list features what I consider to be the main 8 Batfamily members: Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne, and Duke Thomas. It is by no means every appearance of these characters, but it is hopefully all of the important ones and then some. By no means do I suggest reading all of these (unless you're slightly insane like me), it's more of a reference guide than a read list.

Some Disclaimers:

This is still a work in progress. You'll notice that the first third of the list is much more detailed than the more recent entries. That's because I haven't read them yet. As of now I've only reached Batgirl 2000 #15, but will continue updating as I go through (I'm hoping to finish sometime within the next 12 months).

This is not a Batman list. I have included some issues about Bruce that I feel are important to the overall story, but if I were to include all of his important issues it would make the list unusable. You should still be able to follow his character arcs through his role in the comics listed here.

I needed to cut off somewhere, so anything released after December 31, 2023 was not included. I may go back and change this later, but not any time soon.

I do not want to discredit any of the Batfamily members not included here (ie Kate, Helena, Jean Paul). They are all important to Bruce and Gotham in their own way, but again I needed to cut it off somewhere or I never would have found an end.

For any edits you wish to suggest, please do so through this form. Any suggestions given not through this form will not be considered, and as it says in the form, I also will not consider any that don't have an explanation.

Finally I need to say thank you and give credit to the people who's reading lists I used to create this:

cazzam - New and Improved Cassandra Cain Reading Guide

Comic Book Herald - I used both their Complete Robin and Complete Batgirl Read Order Lists.

The Comic Book Treasury - I used both their Robin Reading Order and their Duke Thomas Reading Order

Comic Book Wire - The Signal Reading Order

Daily Jason Todd - Jason Todd's Reading List

Stephanie Brown Wiki Chronology Page

The Unoffical Guide to the DC Universe was also an incredible help with sorting out timelines, and all of my On-Sale-Date information comes from Grand Comics Database (GCD).

I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful! I'm happy to answer any questions, and if something isn't clear feel free to let me know!

[your-nanas-house]

"Scarecrow, Scarecrow"

◇ Pairing: Jonathan Crane X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, edging, riding, handjob, Jonathan Crane, straight jacket, kind of dubcon at first

◇ Summary: Jim Gordon and his colleague go to interrogate Jonathan Crane.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

You and your colleague Jim Gordon had been in that interrogation room for more than an hour, nothing had succeeded in making Doctor Crane speak, not even the time since he was still sitting in front of you tied in a straitjacket that kept his entire body immobile and it was getting kind of uncomfortable— you could tell.

Your eyes remained on the black haired man the entire time as you let Jim do the attempted interrogation— attempt because it wasn't working at all and it was starting to stress him out, you could see it and Crane could see it too.

That was the main reason because you leaned closer to him to whisper something in his ear, covering your mouth with your hand slightly so not to make anyone but Jim hear.

You could see out of the corner of your eye you had slightly caught the maniac's attention, making his icy gaze focus back on you even when Officer Gordon got up, leaving the room after whispering something back to you.

It was just you and Jonathan, no one else, the cameras weren't working and you knew it, you were in a room in Arkham Asylum so there were no walls for the people outside to see through— a decidedly sick decision to make.

Jonathan opened his mouth, licking slightly his pink lips

"I'm afraid I've never had the pleasure of meeting you before, Officer...." he said, his eyes trailing on your body and back to your face as he waited to know your name.

You got up from your chair and looked around the room, studying your surroundings while moving closer to him

"Jonathan Crane, huh? I attended a few of your lectures— I must say that they were quite interesting but it was hard to focus" you explained with a blank voice while thinking.

His eyes kept following you, his mouth opened to say something but quickly shut when you sat on his lap

"Let's make a deal, shall we?" You started, licking your lips

"I bet you are quite touch depraved since they locked you in this place so— I can give you what you need if you tell me what I want to know. How does it sound?" You asked softly, not letting him reply immediately just by placing your hand directly on his covered crotch, massaging it slowly while feeling his cock get hard and stiff under your hand.

His breaths came out more labored as you continued the movement of your hand, applying a little more pressure and then quickly moving from that position to lean on the table to admire him before speaking again

"What do you say, Dr. Crane?" you asked seeing his adam's apple bounce slightly as he gulped

"F-Fuck fine but don't stop" he begged quickly, making you hide a smirk.

You moved back on his lap and started to grinds slowly against him, asking him a few questions which received no response.

"This wasn't the deal, honey" you pushed him down on the table, freeing his hard leaking cock before grabbing it with your hand

"Mommy isn't in the mood to play so answer the questions like a good boy to receive your reward, yes?" you whispered against his ear, making him whine like a slut for you.

It took him a few seconds to be able to answer at your comment, too focused on your still warm hand on his rock-hard cock

"Yes— m-mommy, god, please. I will answer anything" he quickly assured you, moaning happily as your hand started to pleasure him, stroking his whole length— moving his foreskin to be able to touch the tip and make him squirm under you.

Jonathan was answering your questions, moving his hips as best he could to fuck your hand making you more aroused as the time passed.

You honestly weren't planning to go all the way with him but the situation was making your pussy ache for release and a big cock like his to fill you completely.

You could see that Johnathan was getting closer and closer to his peak, hearing just his loud moans followed by soft whimper and prays that got replaced by a loud whine when you removed your hand from him.

His piercing blue eyes that were closed quickly opened, staring at you in a desperate way as he tried to understand why you stopped just to groan even louder when your wet pussy made contact with his leaking, thrombing cock.

You started to move your hips slowly, grinding your clit against his V-line before positioning his dick at your entrance not bothering to put a condom on it— too lost in your wish of pleasure.

Your pussy swallowed him up, taking all his inches easily because of how wet it was; your head dropped back as your mouth let out a pornographic moan that made Jonathan whimper and his cock twitch inside of you.

It took just a few bounce and the view of your tits to make Dr. Crane reach his peak, his back arched in a delicious way as his mouth dropped, letting out loud moans just for you.

His icy blue eyes rolled back under his pretty eyelids and his messy hair got more stuck against his forehead because of his sweat.

Sadly for him as soon as you reached your climax, you got up not helping him reach his own— you had the informations you wanted but he had been a brat at the beginning of your interrogation so you decided that he didn't deserved his reward.

Jonathan wasn't happy about it, you could see it in his eyes and the way he was clenching his teeth making his jawline stand out even more.

You were probably doing a mistake that you would regret if he would ever escape from Arkham but you didn't care so you left, leaving Jonathan Crane, aka The Scarecrow, with blue balls— still tied with a straight jacket and his cock out.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter