#specific therapy

[sparkoflena]

As somebody who has written Batfamily fanfiction (mostly for myself but I have like two things public), Bruce Wayne's relationship with his kids will always be the hardest part.

Yeah, I could fanon it. But I do try my hardest to be at least vaguely canon-compliant in terms of characterizations/relationships.

BUT the history of Bruce Wayne as a father changes depending on the author you read, which Robin is Robin-ing at the time, and what trauma Bruce happens to be going through. Is he going to be deeply supportive of his kids and attend their events and be both awkward and proud? Is he going to hit his kids? Who knows, certainly not DC writers.

(I'm of the opinion that Bruce Lost-His-Parents-At-A-Young-Age & Adopted-Kids-Like-Him-To-Build-A-Family-He-Didn't-Have-As-A-Child Wayne ABSOLUTELY should be a Good Parent[TM], albeit a bit Overprotective Dad. But there are only a handful of authors who follow this depiction)

[chloesimaginationthings]

you draw adult michael like he kisses boys daily instead of taking his meds but teen michael like hes homophobic and you're so real for that tbh

This is such a funny read but you’re sorta right too

[yuanthaispaseo]

Yuan Thai Spa & Salon is a professional four-star spa & salon sits in the premium areas of Mumbai.Regarded as the best spa in mumbai,We strongly ensure that our customers are made to feel comfortable at all time.

[crispyjeans]

I love stock photos, so I redrew them with Ninjago

[spidey-webs]

Not to get into it again, but adding on the Tower of Babel thing: the "Bruce looks down on Hal" thing is so lame compared to their canon dynamic between the 90s and 2010s, aka Bruce spending over a decade of comics being fucking terrified of Hal.

It's so much less interesting than the reality of Bruce being terrified of Hal and what he's capable of. Bruce spiraling into crippling paranoia every time Hal does literally anything, whether it's rewriting reality or doing Spectre-stuff or talking to his ex-girlfriend. Bruce squirming and gnashing his teeth and losing all rationality over the slightest suspicious Hal-related activity. Brcue being vulnerable to Parasite!Parallax's influence because of his paranoia about Hal. Bruce constantly jumping to the worst possible conclusion about Hal, and sometimes being right, and sometimes being wrong, and how that fucked with Bruce on the deepest psychological level and took a lot of time and conversations with other heroes to get through.

Just...Bruce's inability to cope with Hal's plunge into supervillainy bringing out the worst him. How he doesn't dare hope or trust again so instead he doubles down on what he knows are his own worst tendencies.

Bruce saying shit like:

The feared Batman fearing the man without fear!

This dynamic is infinitely more fun and interesting than anything I've seen made that’s based on 5 minutes of animated movie (that doesn't even know how Green Lantern powers work), or fandom osmosis (have no idea how powerful Hal Jordan is), or some infamously out of character comic they saw out of context on tiktok one time (really, really doesn't even know how Green Lantern powers work or how powerful Hal Jordan is)

But obviously dealing with the baggage of Parallax isn't for everyone, but even after everything got rebooted, it's not like Bruce doesn't respect Hal:

Or, you know, there's other aspects of their dynamic that are really really funny:

High Drama Bickering!

Sulky Batfrowns!

Bruce's many, many "YOU'RE NOT A GOD!" moments!

And Clark being so so so sick of Bruce's Hal Issues!

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt IV good omens but all i know is i watched three episodes on a stream with you all

Three hours being in a server with good omens fans in the wild *insert random emojis to sound like optimum clickbait youtuber except this ain't clickbait*

Okay I woke up. Before everything just WASHES out of my brain, I'm gonna describe whatever happened last night best as I can, because that's what I do.

Some of you were unable to attend the stream, and were sad. But don't worry I got you guys here's the rundown:

people joined the server. people were confused. i was afraid. i was assured that i should be, which was meant to comfort me.

people introduced themselves. someone said they had worked in a brothel as a bartender, which was cool, they said they had many stories. they did not elaborate for fear of scaring the newcomers. The newcomers, aka, me, were already scared, and it was not of the brothel stories.

I brought an emotional support orange with me. It looked uncomfortable. I thought it would be rotten. It was not, but we would not know that until later.

@thescholarlystrumpet entered fabulously, and started the stream.

i didn't realise the show had started for a good two minutes because there was a random voice over that was telling us about Earth's star sign (Libra) and somehow that didn't compute in my brain as being part of the episode. I thought we were checking audio.

It turned out, the episode had begun, and everyone was acting like this is a completely normal way for a show to start.

We time-jumped from the fall of man to modern day society so fast that I got whiplash.

There were a lot of orgasmic noises. I asked why. I was told in no uncertain terms that those were screams of labour. I'm sorry to everyone who has given birth ever.

There were three babies. I tried to keep track, it was hard. I thought the Antichrist won prizes for tropical fish. I was wrong.

I fell in love with Crowley and his hips and was very gay on the chat. This was heartily applauded.

I didn't realise an hour had passed when the episode ended, which it seemed was to be a common theme. I said nothing happened which everyone found funny for some reason.

I was very concerned about Armageddon. Everyone assured me that it would take place over the course of the season. I asked why we'd speedrun through millennia in five minutes but eight days took several episodes. I was a naive fool. Time is a social construct and this show cares not for social constructs.

They fucked up the mission. This was also to be a common theme.

I begged for a break and had to shake my head to try and get the brain rot out. I did not succeed.

The second episode commenced. The intro concerned me, because the cartoon Aziraphale looked pregnant or like a chicken. I asked if Crowley had impregnated him. He had not.

The pornography scene had to be replayed because I was so lost and had not relished it properly.

There was a lot of crying on the chat. Every few minutes someone would say a normal sentence in English and everyone would respond with crying emojis. Needless to say, I was concerned. This was also to be a common theme.

I asked why we were talking about random children. I was told it was The Them and they were the Antichrist's friends. I liked the hellhound.

I wanted to adopt the Antichrist, and grew more thirsty for Crowley every time he was a casual accessory to murder. I'm relying on this fandom not to use this as evidence with the cops. The chat was not reassuring, they said maybe.

I thirsted for Crowley more. This was also to be a common theme.

Aziraphale was very cute, I realised. That was nice. It was not nice when he had gay panic and said mean things to Crowley and they broke up. This was also to be a common theme.

I got so gay for Crowley that I ate the emotional support orange. It was gaseous. The chat was concerned, and everyone got excited every time oranges were mentioned after.

The third episode was a fucking roller coaster. Crowley and Aziraphale were your average high school couple but biblical for 6000 years.

Both were casual accessories to murder, and sometimes the cause of the murders, before going out for a date. Crowley got horny and he stopped listening every time Aziraphale ate. This was also to be a common theme.

The chat was keeping count of the husband breakups. This was not nice.

The Bentley was silver in many scenes, and people were forced to concede that they saw it. I was smug.

Crowley was sexy. She served gender, or as some people in the chat said, she served cunt. Her hairstyles got better and better. No one liked the 60s one. I did. I like everything she does. I love him.

Things happened. The fandom infected me. Someone mentioned how the book said Crowley felt lonely. I was near tears.

Crowley walked down the aisle for Aziraphale. We all were happy.

The book case, the thermos, the bandstand. I was broken.

Everyone said very emotional goodbyes.

I made a post on tumblr that was absolutely incomprehensible but accurately conveyed my love for Crowley. I fell asleep.

Same time next week, I believe.

I hope this was an adequate summary of the livestream for everyone, I am broken irreparably and if anyone mentions the bandstand I will have to start drinking and not stop till I get a happy ending. I cannot afford alcohol. I will ferment grapes myself if I have to.

[starry-bi-sky]

Who is the more well-adjusted twin; Damian, or Danyal? Why, it's Damian, of course!

And I have an explanation for this! But first I wanna preface this that this is just me like, rambling about this thought I have and it's not an attack on the trope as a whole. I love the Danyal Al Ghul au which is why i'm so deeply passionate about it, because I think it has a lot of potential to be explored. It's no secret that I've mentioned before that I think Danny's psychological development tends to get overlooked and underutilized in DAG aus, and the impact that growing up in an assassin league often goes ignored. This is just me further expanding on that.

Now lets set the stage! This is specifically for Danny who is adopted by the Fentons later down in life. Lets go twin au. At 10 years old, Damian goes to the Wayne Family, Danny is adopted by the Fentons (regardless of their affiliation with the League). By 14 years old, who ends up the better adjusted, more socially aware, spiritually in-tune with themselves, sibling? Why, Damian is! Why is that?

Because he has the actual support he needs compared to Danny. And I'm not talking about good or bad parents Fentons, because either way my opinion doesn't change. Damian would end up the better off twin, because, frankly, his family knows his background. They know he grew up in the League, they know what the League's teachings are, and they know he's a born and raised assassin. Knowing this, they can then help tackle and dismantle the teachings and lessons he has been given and ingrained into by the League. They may be a dysfunctional family, but they're functional enough to at least actively help deprogram all of the League's teachings that have been ingrained in Damian throughout his childhood.

Can't say the same for Danny.

Lets say Fentons here don't know his background -- and even if they do, the results may just stay the same if they play their cards wrong, -- Danny's now just been thrown into the deep end of a pool and is essentially being told sink or swim. Regardless of how he got there -- undercover, faked death, etc -- he has no proper support. He knows the League is meant to be secret, he's not gonna speak on it for various reasons. Whether it be some still lingering loyalty, fear of harm, or whatever. Whatever the reason is, he does not have a proper support system in the Fentons, no matter how nice they are. They can only tackle the surface level stuff and whatever Danny allows them to see -- if Danny ever lets them see it at all. For what do assassins do when they don't want to be caught? They hide. Sometimes in plain sight.

"But Jazz--" Jazz is a child. She is 2 years older than Danyal and no better at giving him a proper support system than the two adult Fenton parents, even with parentification. We don't know when she got into psychology or how long she'd been studying it by the time Danny's 14. We just know she's really into it. Even then, Jazz is not a licensed or reliable therapist, or even an experienced or implied good therapist, and should not be used as one either. It's a disservice to her character to reduce her down to 'supporting female emotional crutch'. Besides, therapy only works on people who want to get better. Danny, who'd be hiding who he really is, has very little incentive to want to, or to even think something is wrong with his way of thinking, even with exposure to the outside world.

When people's beliefs are outright challenged, they tend to double down on them, and Jazz canonically has a habit of psychoanalyzing her family and declaring what she thinks is the problem -- regardless of whether or not she's right about it. Jazz would get into psychology, try and psychoanalyze Danny, and all it would do is cause him to clam up, shut into himself further, and throw up even more walls so that she can't figure out that he has been lying this whole time. It would do more harm than good, and would actively hinder any progress he'd make in trying to open up to them. Roads and good intentions and all that.

That being said, I think Danny's development and dismantling of the League's teachings would be slower than Damian's. Much slower. Because he would be the one having to pick apart everything and figure out what is right, what is wrong, what he wants to keep, and what he wants to toss. Everything he unlearns would be stuff he has to unlearn himself. If he even gets to that point at all -- depending on his experiences, he very well could not change at all, or change very little. The League acts as a purge for humanity, meant to reign in their hubris and retain balance, they just also happen to be assassins for hire. Danny's time spent in Amity Park could as well strengthen his belief in their teachings just as much as it could weaken it, especially if it goes as canon and he gets bullied.

Regardless, being tossed to a civilian family as someone who is very much not a civilian, without any support, would be actively detrimental to Danny's overall mental health and development. Especially to strangers like the Fentons. Damian was closed off and standoffish even with blood family, and it took him time to open up to them -- Danny, with the Fentons, would be even more so. He doesn't know them, he doesn't trust them, he has no rhyme or reason to open up to them, and since the Fentons don't actually know him, they can't help him the way he needs. Once "Danny Fenton" is made, he has even less reason to open up. So long as Danyal allows it, they will only ever know Danny, and they'll never know Danyal.

TL:DR the Fentons aren't the better family option just because they're civilians, and actually that makes them the worser option between the two because they can't give Danny the proper support he needs. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.

[thatmooncake]

Therapy bots AU I’m making with @flinxypie where you have a lil accident at your job at the pizzaplex and early into your recovery they show up at your house to finish the job therapise you and it’s pure shenanigans and dreamscape misadventures from there onwards.

(A bit more AU info under the cut)

Sun used to work at the Fazbear theatre until it closed, then he was repurposed to work at the Superstar Daycare until it closed too. After spending a loooong time begging any human staff he could find to let him do something (anything) useful instead of just collecting dust, he was given this new job as a therapy bot - and it came with a few neat upgrades too. But of course that meant having to pretend he knew what he was doing. And of course that meant having to pretend that Fazbear Entertainment had good intentions. And of course that meant Moon was coming with him too.

Moon used to be Sun’s partner in crime at the theatre, performing onstage with him every day until one day he just …switched off and wouldn’t respond. He was always a little glitchy, and there was a reason for that. With no body to call his own, Moon took to the dreamscape, where he was used to conduct dream experiments of the soul-trapping kind in secret. Now he’s back in his body, and he’s struggling to adapt to the world around him (especially during the day), but in the dreamscape he knows all sorts of (bad) therapy concepts he can introduce you (and Sun) to, and he may find yet another willing participant to drag into dreamland with him.

Plot points that come up include:

- The time you went out for a walk and Moon buried himself under a pile of leaves because it was sunny outside and you never found out where Sun picked up that potted plant from but he showed it to you anyway because he thought it’d make you smile

- The time Sun thought he was taking you to the beach but it was actually just one of those pop up places they put in towns but at least social anxiety is slightly easier or at least more amusing when you’ve got a robot friend by your side who didn’t know it wasn’t the real beach

- The time Moon almost got you to sleep so he could take you to the land of dreams but then there was a gotdang cricket chirping in the room because bearded dragons gotta eat

- The time you went to the dreamscape and fused with Sun and Moon and having their thoughts in your head was weird

And much much more (probably)!

[bruciemilf]

Peter B admitting to Miles that the non stop tragedies and losses shaping their stories are hard, harsh, and , knowing they can do something about it, cruel even. Then saying the GOOD aspects essentially outshine them. But that's not true. That's a classic toxic positivity line, used to justify shitty, unequal politics. " But at least we have this one good thing" WE CAN HAVE THAT GOOD THING AND NOTHING ELSE. WE AREN'T MADE TO BE IN PAIN, AND PAIN SHOULDN'T MAKE A HERO.

What Miguel doesn't understand is they don't owe the world suffering.

[inkskinned]

im gonna start a fight; and, at the same time, i need you to take this in the most good-faith way possible, but:

videos that involve body-checking and intentionally (and uncritically) show a mealplan of an unhealthy number of calories are just a revamped version of pro-ana food diaries.

and yeah, i know there's arguments. i address some of them under the cut. but at the end of the day, we're just coming back to romanticizing mental illness; we've just found a better platform for it.

this is already something we've done. we knew it was wrong and tried to stop it. and tbh. it just wasn't enough.

there are people who argue "well, what if you have an eating disorder, you can't help it if you don't eat!" except that as someone with an ED; we are not infants. we know what we're doing. part of having an ED is that you are like, maybe too self-aware. even if we can't help our own food choices, we don't need to fucking romanticize the disorder - something we've been warning you about since 2013. there are hours of setup, filming, and editing that go into these videos. they do not happen to fall into place randomly. there is a reason they are pieced together to be beautiful, bright, inspiring.

there's this woman who pretty much only posts daily plans under a normal amount of calories, and everyone defends her saying but it's better than nothing! and i'm like. except she opens those with images of her showing off her body and provides no context in the video or caption that suggests that she believes what she's doing is unhealthy. she has hundreds of thousands of followers on a platform designed for young kids and teens. i refuse to believe that by accident her content just happens to be cheery advice on "healthy" versions of starving.

for any other symptom of mental illness, we would be incredibly enraged by this kind of placid acceptance of a "tips and tricks" fast-start guide. imagine if people posted pink & pretty videos saying "best places to cut yourself" as if it was a fucking storytime. we, as a society, are so fucking fatphobic that we would rather accept blatantly harmful displays of self harm than admit that we are obsessed with a hyper-thin body type.

i am not suggesting someone never talks about their disorder. i talk about mine. actually, it's a plot point in my book.

here's the difference: i recognize it's a fucking mental illness. i am very careful to never mention a specific weight, eating pattern, or calorie plan. i always make sure to position it as something that ruined my fucking life. i do not put cheery music in the background and hearts and sparkles over my worst moments. i do not film it in bright light. i do not start each passage with an image of a thin body followed by "here's how to look like her."

eating disorders should not be framed as aspirational. and the problem is that society worships the "after" image, so long as you don't get too sick. there is a reason so many people who quit being "influencers" will later admit - i wasn't eating well that whole time; an obsession with food was completely destroying my life.

we let any uncredited, uncertified person write the most backwards, fucked up shit about how to get the body you desire! because the underlying, secret belief is: well, at least they're thin! and the real thing that fucking gets me each time - they make fucking money off of it. their irresponsibility and societal harm literally pays off for them.

"why do you care so much." "don't like it don't look." "so what if people experiment with new ways of thinking of food?"

thank you for asking. we're about to get extremely personal. it's because when i was 18 i discovered "thinspiration"/"thinspo." and it absolutely influenced, shaped, and codified my pre-existing eating disorder. i went from having some troubling habits and traits to being incredibly unwell within what felt like a matter of days. there were actual pages designed to train me on how to have an ED correctly. it was all so suddenly easy. i was sick; and the nature of the illness meant - i wanted to be sicker.

it takes an average of 7 years for a person to fully recover. i know this personally - even now, 10 years from the worst of it, i still fucking struggle. i am so much happier now and i eat what i want and i literally don't think about food at all (19 year old me would shudder) and yet - i still fucking know the calories of plain toast with butter.

an eating disorder is one of the deadliest types of mental illness. over 1 in 4 people with an ED will attempt suicide.

and i'm sorry. i just do not see the exchange rate of "high rate of engagement" versus "the value of a human life."

[tagerrkix]

back with my astarion bullshit again

[kiwifie]

lantern rite date

[yuanthaispaseo]

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[smilesrobotlover]

Small Revali’s for anyone who needs it. This guy has me in a chokehold

[huellitaa]

digital princess 4ever

[nevertheless-moving]

I'm not quite there yet but I KNOW that after wind and truth featuring Szeth and Kaladin's Unwell Adventure, I WILL be adding Kalaszeth to my all encompassing mental cabinet of beloved possible Kaladin ships.

---

Which introduces a new funniest time travel companion for a new funniest post book 5 time travel scenario.

Stormlight au 31:

Szeth, having jump scared the bridge crew by appearing lightly glowing in the dark while they were having stew, been hastily ushered by the captain into the bridge four barrack, only to sit on the floor and stare dead eyed at nothing: Kaladin, standing between the crew and the man on the floor:

---

Lopen looked around. As usual, he could tell that the men were silently crying out for him, the Lopen, to take charge and speak.

"So!" he said cheerfully. "Gotta say gancho, very excited to meet an old friend of yours! Nice to take some mystery out of that mysterious past of yours, eh?"

Kaladin shifted from foot to foot, face twisting a bit. He had been acting strange since that terrifying glowy high storm vision of his a few days back. Even more broody than usual, which was storming saying something.

"It must be difficult," Rock said slowly. "Being Shin man with great powers and shardblade."

A shardblade which he had summoned unceremoniously, causing all of bridge four to scramble for weapons, only for the crazy man to hand it to Kaladin with a mumble, then sit on the floor.

Kaladin had sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, before placing it, very, very carefully, under his bed.

A storming shardblade. Under the Captain's bed.

"A Shin with a shardblade who wears white," Moash added sarcastically, eyes flickering to the Captain's bed even more than usual.

(White may have been a stretch, what with all the mud and possibly dried blood. Still. Lopen could perhaps see Moash's point.)

"Yes," Rock said. "Why, were I more suspicious man, I would say Captain, this man on the floor, he can not be Assassin in White? Surely most wanted, most dangerous man in all Roshar is not here, in the place we sleep, asking for aid. Surely it would have been mentioned if this man who caused the war we even now are a part of, was old friend of yours?"

"I..." Kaladin trailed off. "I promised to try and protect..."

The whole bridge crew groaned, Skar even throwing his spear at the ground. Bad form, that.

"Storm's sake lad!" Teft growled, arms in the air. "You can't befriend and save every wanted criminal you meet!"

"If it is of help -"

The men started at the unnerving dead voice coming from the so far quiet assassin.

"We are not truly friends. Merely -"

He said a word, presumably in his language, then frowned, the first recognizably human emotion that had crossed his face.

"I do not know this word in Alethi. In Azish it is I think -"

He said something that made Sigzil choke on air, jaw dropping. "Uh," the Worldsinger stammered out. "I. Ah. I think. That might be the wrong term."

The Captain seemed to pale slightly. "Szeth, we can talk about that later," he said quickly. "We should probably figure out a plan for you to surrender to Dalinar - or Elokhar - without you getting immediately executed - Yes, Dalinar is probably-"

"Perhaps," Sigzil interrupted, voice higher than usual. "You could define the meaning of the word you used before."

"Sigzil!" The captain hissed.

"Captain?" Sigzil challenged, voice still slightly too high.

"I was emotionally and mentally unwell," the assassin in white said in his monotone. He paused. "Even more so than currently."

A few of the men took a step back.

"Stormblessed..." he looked up at Kaladin, and his voice seemed to soften, just the slightest bit. "He felt pity for me. Then he helped me feel. Helped me think that perhaps, someday I would feel the desire for life. He did this despite no great love for my being."

Many of the men nodded at that. Sigzil's shoulders slumped in relief.

"He accomplished this primarily by fucking me in a cave."

The nods froze. Sigzil closed his eyes.

The Captain slapped a hand to his face.

"The translation for this from my language would be 'pity fuck', but there is more cultural nuance..." The Assassin shrugged. "In any case it is not a bond such as that of friendship. My soul is still far too damaged for that."

"Szeth..." The Captain said, looking down at him with obvious concern. He glanced at the room, blanched at the men's expressions, then slowly pressed his head back into his hand.

Moash made an indecipherable noise and stomped towards the door, before making another noise and stomping back.

The Captain kept his palm pressed to his face.

A sudden wave of epiphany hit Lopen. "Hold on. Now hold on just a storming minute!"

The room turned slowly from staring at their Stormblessed leader to staring at Lopen.

He pointed accusingly at the Captain. When the man failed to pull his massive hand from his beautiful face, Lopen faced the others, glaring.

"I know that I joined bridge four late! But are you telling me that before I got here, the whole famous 'pulling everyone out of bridge crew misery' was actually the captain...I mean did storming all of you..."

He made a deliberate gesture, pointer finger moving extra emphatically to make up for the missing hand with which to form a hole, meeting each man's eyes with a challenge.

Drehy let out a wheeze. He and Skar looked at each other before dissolving into quiet, helpless laughter. Drehy sank to his hands and knees, wheezing more, and Skar bent over, tears streaming down his face as he gasped around his laughing.

"That ain't an answer!" he said indignantly.

He looked at Teft, but the older man had put both hands over his face. His shoulders seem to shake occasionally. Lopen's eyes narrowed as he turned to Rock.

The horneater had a hand over his mouth, but he brought it down, coughing once as he stroked his beard.

"What," Rock said mildly. "You thought it my stew that bring back men's will to live? You honor me, the Lopen."

Lopen gaped at that, and he wasn't the only one. The handful of other 'late' additions, men who had been rescued on the field from other crews, started in shock.

The rest of the crew completely lost it at that point.

Skar and Drehy collapsed further, banging their fists on the floor. Bissig started laughing as well, falling onto Natam, who had made a strange grunting whine at Lopen's question, a whine which grew louder at Rock's reply.

Moash's lips turned up reluctantly before a snort escaped against his will. He fell back against a wall, knees seeming to grow weak. Another snort. "Imagine!" he gasped out. "If he just started punching people in the stomach, ran around like a madman, and expected people to follow him!"

Leyten went from chuckling to a booming laugh at that, clutching at Pete and Yake to stay upright. He looked at Lopen, who made another questioning gesture. That was enough to send all three toppling over, Leyten loud enough to be heard the next barrack over.

Renarin squeaked from the corner as Natam hit the wall beside him in mirth, howling. Talek's breath, he had forgotten the lad was there, light eyes wide in shock.

Shen was next to him. Was it Lopen's imagination, or did even his eyes seemed to be sparkling with mirth? No storming way...not the parshman...the Captain wouldn't...

"Crazy!" Torfin agreed, cackling. "What kind of idiots would start pooling all their pay to buy storming bandages for doomed men, start laughing during chasm duty, swear to stand by their storming bridge, if they didn't have at least one, um - uh -"

"Stormblessing!" Leyten offered with a gasp from the ground.

Torfin pointed at him, "Stormblessing!" he repeated with a yell. "To remind them that life was worth living!"

Lopen narrowed his eyes, finally coming to a conclusion. "You fellows are taking the piss out on me," he accused.

"You know Captain," Drehy said, whole body heaving, tears still streaming down his face as he lay helplessly on the floor. "I still get nightmares."

This inspired a new wave of laughter mixed with jeers about their own issues, and suggestions for how the captain could help. Lopen shook his head, grinning widely at the room full of uproarious men. Some of his best work. And mostly achieved on accident, which was the best kind of accomplishment!

The Captain finally pulled his hand from his face. There was color high in his cheeks, and he was frowning, but the corners of his eyes were creased with suppressed laughter.

"Sorry Drehy, one time offer," he said dryly, to hoots.

And Lopen," he said, faux apologetic. "I am sorry for the oversight. I... didn't realize you were interested."

The crew edged well into hysteria, most men only able to breathe in strangled gasps and wheeze out an occasional ''Stormblessing!'

Bridge four's captain was good at playing straight man, when the mood struck him.

The Lopen huffed, but decided magnanimously to move past the slight to his honor. Even if it turned out they weren't joking.

"It's still nice to be included," he sniffed. "Ain't that right, Renarin."

The Brightlord seemed to shrink as attention was drawn towards him, face a brilliant red as he pressed into the corner. Some of the laughter trailed off as the crew remembered he was there. More of it got louder, even less uncontrolled.

The Captain's eyes widened and the flush on his cheeks spread to his ears.

"Renarin! Oh - Jezrianssake, the men are full of chullshit, alright? I didn't - that wasn't -"

The Captain gestured helplessly. "The thing with Szeth was - we were - the world was going to -"

He threw up his arms as Renarin's eyes just got wider.

"It was the stew!" He said desperately, turning to look at Eth, who looked bemused back at him. "It really was the stew!" He pleaded.

"I know Captain," Eth said soothingly. "I know I came in a bit later, but I know. That's not exactly something these idiots would be able to keep secret."

"Things might have gone faster, though..." Skar said leadingly, which set off another round of helpless groans and gasps for air.

The Captain rolled his eyes, scoffing, still the perfect comedic straight man.

...He did get the whole joke though, right? The bit of truth in the jeers? The Lopen was not generally interested in the more manly sex but Storms. It was sometimes hard to tell if the Captain realized just how pretty he was, just how much people reacted to his general...Stormblessedness. Not to mention the glowing! Everyone loves a man who can glow and run up walls.

Hm. Maybe that helped explain the Captain and the Assassin.

Moash stumbled, still snorting, over to the Man in White - to Szeth - looking down at him, appraising.

Kaladin grew tense.

Gancho had been especially strange around Moash for the last few days.

"Assassin," he said thoughtfully. "Are you sure it was just pity?"

The wide eyed man, who had remained utterly impassive as the room fell apart around him, cocked his head as Moash leaned down.

"There's a certain kind of person who finds killing light eyes, especially powerful lighteyes, a rather..."

Kaladin cleared his throat, interrupting. "We're not killing the king."

Moash turned sharply, glaring at Kaladin.

"I do not wish to kill anymore," Szeth whispered. He paused, then spoke again.

"I will kill if the Blackthorn orders, or if you ask, Kaladin Stormblessed, son son Tanavast."

Kaladin winced. "Maybe let's not mention...that whole last part when we go to the King. We...we should definitely practice exactly how we're going to explain all this."

He starting towing the still blank faced - no there was a bit of confusion there, if you were looking - infamous Assassin to his office, the men letting out the best jeers they could (considering their incoherent state) as they went.

"You should for sure mention the 'pity fuck' thing though," Lopen called helpfully. "The King will definitely be interested in that."