#and they’re still very good obvious they’re all bats

[panakina]

I think it’d be funny if Dick and Jason, due to wearing bright yellow capes on the job for years, are capable of stealth to a frankly unhinged degree. They barely have to try anymore it’s so second nature. Dick can just completely disappear while in the loudest neon clothes imaginable. Jason is constantly startling people who don’t understand how they missed a guy the size of a fridge standing right there. Bruce is extremely grateful for his unbreakable poker face because they have both startled him by accident and would never ever let him live it down if they knew.

[bibluebutterfly]

Hoo boy. Now I've made it known multiple times on my blog that I LOATHE the whoobiefication of Vox, but lets get into why/how Vox is NOT a good person nor a baby that needs protecting and why he's all the better for it. Buckle up ladies and gentlemen, this will be long.

Now, why isn't Vox a good person? Easy. Because he (along with the other Vees) is supposed to be the bad guy of the story. Shocking, I know. Vox was NEVER intended to be a good person, and some of y'all just need to accept that.

Now for the long part: HOW is he not a good person?

Well, first of all, his literal introduction is an ad selling drones HE DESIGNED specifically for stalking,"peeping on the neighbors has never been more stylish"

Right off the bat, this tells us he doesn't care about people unless he can profit off them.

Which is also backed up by the point that he ADVERTISES Val and Vels "love potions" which are basically just roofies.

Again. This man ONLY cares about profit first and foremost, screw the people who can get hurt/SA'd by his products.

Next, he has a power of hypnosis which he is NOT hesitant to use. He can take away someones free will at a glance and uses that to his full advantage.

He's also very willing to give Val his lowest earners to shoot. Notice that he does so with no hesitance and no regret.

Also, (and most significantly) he's a huge, HUGE enabler. This guy has cameras EVERYWHERE, ESPECIALLY when Valentino is involved. He's got cameras in Val's room, Angels old room, at Vals corner of the club (which moves when Val does), there's NO WAY he DOESN'T know that Val is a r@pist.

And DESPITE that, he still sleeps with the man, is very likely in love with him, and oh yeah, FUNDS HIS WHOLE DEAL. The cameras Val uses are Voxtech cameras.

Val may be the one who does the dirty work but Vox willingly and knowingly makes a profit off of that. He doesn’t just know and do nothing, he actively HELPS Val out and obviously has no second thoughts nor regrets about it.

This is not a look of disgust or discontent, this is fondness. Genuine fondness. For Valentino. As a PERSON. Let that sink in.

There’s also the implications that Vox is jealous of the attention Angel gets from Val. Angel gets abused constantly by Val, Vox KNOWS, and still hates Angel because of the sheer fact that he takes up so much of Vals attention.

Not to mention the HEAVY implications that he gets off on watching people suffer.

“Well Vox can still do better than Val!!”

While I’m at it, I guess I should bring up the fact that BOTH Vox and Val are MASSIVE red flags.

With Val, aside from the obvious, he’s also a huge attention whore for Vox and isn’t afraid to break Vox’s property if Vox doesn’t pay attention to him. Yeah Vox gets frustrated with him, who wouldn’t be when their lover is throwing temper tantrums every other day?

With Vox, again, aside from the obvious, isn’t afraid to handle Val roughly when he’s mad, and literally screams about how watching his arch nemesis/obsession get the crap beat out of him is better than sex. Right in front of Val by the way. In regular circumstances, 9.98/10 that’s gonna get your ass dumped in a second.

Not to mention the mutual condescension ation towards each other.

And as much as fans (including myself admittedly) like to shit on Val for being a man child, Vox is literally no better.

Plus the explosive tempers.

Seriously. Vox LITERALLY cannot do better than Val. Vox is the only one who can put up with Vals BS and vice versa.

OH YEAH and lets not forget one last thing: VOX ALSO ABUSES HIS OWN EMPLOYEES.

This dude is scared of him, and it’s NOT because he’s worried about getting fired.

So yes. Vox is not nor HAS EVER been a good person.

And for me personally, I love that. I love that he’s entertaining yet awful. I love his dynamic with Alastor, and I love his relationship with Val even more.

If you’re wondering why I personally love Staticmoth, it’s because basic couple rules do not apply to them. They’re both toxic narcissistic red flags and therefore they can be as awful as they want to each other, and the other will simply shake it off. Yet there’s still heavy trust between the two (never being scared of each other) and they still have little moments together where they’re genuinely happy. It’s unique, and something I’ve never seen in media before.

Basically, if you liked Vox better when you thought he was a poor little baby being abused by Val, read a fan fiction. There’s a lot of them out there.

But people really just need to accept the fact that he’s an awful person. Always has been. He’s not better than Val by ANY means. He and Val are both evil pricks who deserve each other.

And guess what? LIKING AN EVIL CHARACTER DOES NOT MEAN YOU SUPPORT THEIR CHOICES. IT’S OKAY TO LIKE VOX EVEN IF HE IS EVIL.

But don’t go on saying that Vox was “ruined” as a character when all signs have always pointed to him being terrible.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Raven Crowley Broomquet Interview

Similar to last year, I wrote some quick dialogue for the interview questions and sketched a little something for Raven’s birthday card this year~ In the first year, I had commissioned an initial illustration, a Groovy, and wrote some voice lines.

It’s her Broomquet this time, and I decided to make the other birthday character her interviewer 😆 Ignore that this is coming to you one day late—

Happy Birthday!

Raven: Hehehe 🎵 What a most merry time of year. It won’t be long now before my birthday interviewer appears before me. They’re picked at random, so it could be potentially anyone! Oh, I feel as though I may burst any second from the excitement!

Leona, off to the side with his arms folded: …

Raven: Yup! They’ll be here any minute now.

Leona, hand to temple: …

Raven: Aaaany… minute… now…!

Leona, starting to look mildly annoyed: … Oi. Get your head out of the clouds and stop ignoring what’s right in front of you.

Raven, wincing: … Please don’t tell me… Are you my interviewer, Leona-san?

Leona: Would you look at that. Took you long enough. What are the chances, hmm?

Raven: Pretty low, actually!! Of the hundreds and hundreds of students at Night Raven College… It had to be you who was picked? (What terrible misfortune!)

Leona: That’s not a very grateful way to speak to your interviewer and birthday twin. I thought you’d have more decorum than that, canary.

Leona: Shouldn’t you be proud of me for not skipping out on this momentous occasion? You always get on my case whenever I miss a lecture. Be consistent, will you?

Raven, embarrassed: Hnngh…! V-Very well, I concede—you do have a valid point. Perhaps I was a bit quick to be wary.

Raven: It would not do for me to spoil the mood on this festive day, nor waste our time. We have so precious little of it. Shall we begin the interview? The sooner we start, the sooner we end. Such is the sweet sorrow of parting…

Leona: Hmph, that’s more like it. I knew you had it in you. Let’s knock this out so I can get back to my birthday cat nap.

Leona: Alright, first question. How good are you at flying?

Raven: I’m most excellent at it!

Leona: … You are?

Raven: Y-Yes! Is that really so hard to believe!

Leona: You’re lying through your teeth.

Raven: Ex-CUSE me?! Who are you to insult my flying abilities when you are a creature of the land?

Leona: Don’t kid yourself. Everyone has seen you fly once or twice in P.E. and they all say you do it worse than a blind bat. I’d say you’re about on the same level as the octopunk.

Raven: H-How rude! If you meant flying in the human sense, then you should have specified! I’m very well aware that my flight skills need some... practice.

Raven: But can you really blame me?! It’s extremely difficult to adjust to an entirely different body shape and mechanism for the procedure. A human lacks the same aerodynamicism and compactness that a bird does.

Raven: I assure you that I am more than capable of flying well! ... in my original form. 

Leona: Yeah? All I hear are excuses.

Leona: I’m just “a creature of the land” according to you--but this “creature of the land” can outfly you any day of the week.

Raven: Ngh...!! Must you remind me?! I-It’s obvious that the captain of the Magift Club would be skilled at flying. You must have worked diligently to be at your level of mastery. I lack that time and training.

Leona: Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Who knows? One thing’s for sure, though: if all you do is sit around and whine about what you don’t have, then you’ll never get over it or change.

Raven: Oh? That’s ironic coming from you, Leona-san. You also...

Raven: ... No, never mind. I misspoke.

Leona: ...

Leona, groaning: When I was still a furball, I’d play chess with this old coot in the palace. He’s a lot like you, feathers and all. Always running his mouth at me, being a real pain in my tail. But you know what? That geezer could kick my ass in chess.

Leona: ‘Course, I didn’t take it lying down. I’d make a racket and demand rematches. I’d win some, I’d lose some, but no matter what, I’d get back up again every time.

Leona, with a smirk: Now? I can beat him with both arms tied behind my back.

Raven: Was there a moral in that story about not giving up? It felt like you were also just rubbing your victories in some poor old man’s face.

Leona, laughing dryly: Hah. Very good. Gold star for you.

Leona: My point still stands. You want to complain? How about you put forth some effort and do something about yourself before you talk about others? I know where my strengths lie. Do you?

Raven: ...!!

Raven, reluctantly: You’re... You’re right. If I want to improve my flying, then it is action, not words, that will see me through to that end! Starting tomorrow, I should try to squeeze in at least 30 minutes of flight practice after class.

Leona: That’s the spirit.

Raven: You’ll help me, right, Leona-san?

Leona: ... What?

Raven: I don’t have the proper form or formulas memorized yet. Since you’re the expert in this, it would be helpful to have you as my tutor.

Raven: Besides, weren’t you the one encouraging me a few minutes ago? It’s your job as a responsible upperclassman to aid the underclassmen in need of your assets.

Leona: I wasn’t volunteering to chase you around! Go find someone else to babysit you.

Leona: Next is... What’s your favorite thing about having magic?

Raven: Heheheh, isn’t it obvious? Clearly, the best thing about having magic is...

Raven, striking a silly pose: THIS!!

Leona: ...

Leona: And just what am I looking at?

Raven, flailing her arms: Y-You know! THIS!!

Leona: ... Posing stupidly? That’s your favorite thing about having magic?

Raven: Gah, why do you always have to phrase it so simply?!

Leona: Isn’t that what it is? Stop kidding yourself by dressing it up with fancier words. You’re just posing weirdly to try and look cool while you use magic. End of story.

Raven: That’s not all!! It’s the range of movement that I most enjoy about using magic.

Raven: Humans have the same number of limbs as birds, yes--but humans also have more joints, which allows them to move in complex ways while spellcasting.

Raven: There’s no one set way to cast a fire spell. You could wave your arms in different, complex patterns to summon fire balls, fire columns, fire circles...

Raven: It’s fascinating when you think of it like that! You’d think that a bird would have more flexibility, but humans actually surpass them in that aspect.

Leona: Magic can manifest any number of ways, it just depends on how you visualize it and command it. Posing has little to do with the form magic takes.

Raven: W-Well, it still adds a nice dramatic flair and dynamicism!! Especially in combat situations!

Leona, sighing: Listen to yourself. You sound like some kid that hasn’t even cast their first spell yet, running around waving a stick for a magical pen and shouting nonsense, getting excited about looking cool.

Leona: Like Cheka.

Raven: Aw, that actually sounds really cute!!

Raven, suddenly frowning: ... Wait a minute, did you just compare me to a child?!

Leona, smirking: Aaah, he’s a real pain in the tail. He’ll only get wilder once his magic comes to him.

Raven: That’s part of the joys of childhood~ Discovering new things about the world and about yourself... It can be confusing, but it gets better with time and hands to help you along the way.

Raven: Cheka Kingscholar, the princeling of the Sunset Savanna... With that level of enthusiasm and energy, I’m sure he has potential as a mage.

Leona: You seem fine with hyperactive furballs. You should keep each other company, practice your dumb poses together and cheer each other on.

Raven: Why am I suddenly becoming your on-call babysitter?!

Leona: Look at the pot calling the kettle black. You’re the one that volunteered me as YOUR babysitter earlier. I’m only repaying the favor.

Leona: Next is... What do you do in your free time?

Leona: Don’t say reading or writing either. Anyone could already guess that.

Raven: Alright, then I...

Leona: Or making your own inks.

Raven, grimacing: ... Always one step ahead, aren’t you?

Leona: I’m familiar enough with you and your hobbies to be aware. It’s hard to ignore them when you’ve got a little bird screeching in your ear and demanding toys. Asking for pen and paper, glassware and fresh ingredients.

Raven, flustered: Aside from those activities, I find that I enjoy the mundane. There is nothing quite as relaxing as finding a comfortable spot to sit and just... watching the world go by.

Leona: Seriously? You do nothing? You might as well catch up on some Zs instead of watching grass grow.

Raven: It’s not as though I’m doing nothing! I people watch. Lots of students and staff pass through in a day, each of them different and unique. I sometimes see them and wonder what their stories are, trying to piece together observations and make a little guessing game of it.

Raven: In the town, for example. There goes the baker with his tray like always. He has bread and rolls to sell. So early in the day, he must have risen bright and early to prepare them. A hard worker with, perhaps, a family to support back home. 

Raven: That girl is crying. Did she have a bad day? Heartbreak, or maybe a fight with a friend or family member. She’s scared to let others see her this way, so she hides where she thinks no one will see.

Raven: Those sorts of things. It gives me new material to work with, inspirations for my writing.

Leona: A bird that people watches instead of people who bird watch... You’ve picked up an unsavory habit from Rook and that Octopunk’s goon.

Leona, with sarcasm: I shudder to know what dark secrets you’re keeping stored away in that pretty little head of yours.

Raven: I-I did NOT learn this from anyone!! And it’s NOT unsavory!!

Leona: Saying that doesn’t make it any less creepy.

Raven: It’s nothing more than an exercise in imagination! That’s very important talent to hone as a mage.

Raven: It’s not just people I watch either. There are plenty of ideas to be gleaned from scenery, or just an item. Sometimes I find myself entranced by the things displayed in store windows.

Leona: If they catch your eye, why don’t you just buy them? Then you can stare at them all day from the comfort of your own room.

Leona, with a smirk: You know, instead of doing it out in public.

Raven, frowning: Truth be told, I have very little pocket money. Uncle is very stringent when it comes to matters of the purse... so even if I do find an item that catches my fancy, I’ll rarely ever have the money to purchase it.

Leona, scoffing: Poor you.

Raven: It’s okay! What I lack in material goods and money, I can make up for in creativity! I’ll take what I see and weave it into a story where the impossible is made possible.

Raven: Oh! Maybe I can write something from this interview.

Leona: Hah?

Raven, smiling: Because... I’ve been watching you this whole time, Leona-san! And you’ve been watching me as well. It could make for an interesting story, perhaps the same narrative told from two totally different perspectives.

Raven: The world can look so different from another person’s eyes and perspective. Don’t you think so?

Leona: Whatever you say.

Leona: Next is... If you could fly anywhere, where would you go?

Raven: I write about many far away places in my stories, but I haven’t had a chance to visit many of them. The next best thing I can do is to research them well, then recreate them as settings to the best of my abilities. Ideally, I would like to visit some of them someday.

Raven: I would love to experience habitats that I’m unfamiliar with, just for the experience. The ocean floor, the sprawling savanna, frozen tundras, mountain villages, massive cities... Perhaps they would come with some unpleasant experiences, but I feel that those, too, would be valuable for expanding my horizons.

Leona, sarcastic: Keen on the savanna? If that’s the case, you’re welcome to the Sunset Savanna as a guest of the crown whenever your little heart pleases. I’m sure my exalted older brother would just love to entertain you.

Raven: Hold on just one moment! I... I never said that was my top choice!

Leona: Yeah, then what is?

Raven, looking slightly uncomfortable: ... There is one place I wish to visit. It’s the Castle of the Loveless King in the Shaftlands.

Leona: That dusty old site? Thought the lizard was the only one into roaming ruins. That place isn’t anything special.

Raven: But you know the tale, don’t you?

Leona: Of course I do. It’s taught in Magic History, second year.

Raven: Once upon a time, there was a king who loved no one but himself. On a dark and stormy night, an old woman appeared at his door, asking for shelter from the rain. The king rejected her twice, and before she asked the third time, the old woman offered a rose, claiming it as a symbol of everlasting love.

Raven: She pleaded with the king, warning him that it was not too late to change the course of his path. When he rejected her a third and final time, the old woman shed her robes and revealed herself to be a powerful fairy enchantress.

Raven: She cursed him with immortality, so that he would witness the world and all the love it encompassed pass him by. But instead the king relished in the curse, growing even more daring and cruel. Slowly, the people around him left, fearing for their own lives. And the king was left loveless and alone, withering away in his castle.

Raven: By the time he realized what he had loss, it was too late for him to get it back. So the story goes.

Raven, to herself: (... It’s not the complete story. Only I will ever know what truly happened to him.)

Raven: That castle where the Loveless King fell... it’s important to me. That was where I was first taken in by my “father”--and he was the one that directed me to Uncle. It’s really where my story started. It’s where I learned to write. I want to honor my heritage by visiting it again.

Raven: Admittedly, father was not... the ideal parent. But he tried his best to raise me with an understanding of the world before releasing me into it. I’ve always regretted that we were not able to fully reconcile before he...

Raven: ...

Raven: I want to learn more about where he came from, his history before having me. Starting at the castle is my first and only clue.

Raven: Father was the one that allowed me to live this life. I owe him a great debt, so I wish to honor his humble beginnings.

Leona, crossing his arms: Hmph. You’re really concerned with legacy, huh.

Raven: Legacy is important, after all. You must know, being a prince yourself. You have a lot of expectations on your shoulders.

Leona: Ugh, don’t remind me. The last thing I want in this world is to flatter my ancestors by repeating the exact same mistakes they made.

Leona: Times have changed. We need to change with it and adapt, or risk losing ourselves to the wilderness.

Raven: (Risk losing ourselves...)

Leona: In the Sunset Savanna, we say the great kings of old are embedded in the sky. They’re the stars themselves, watching over each and every one of us. The idea is that if we’re ever lost, we look up to them for guidance.

Leona: But what can the dead do for the present? We can look back on them, ask them for advice, but we can’t rely on the past to pave the way to the future.  That can only be done by people who are here and now. People like you and me, canary.

Raven: !!

Leona: Look back all you want, but don’t stay fixated on it. The future is littered with prizes--you’ll miss them if you’re not focused.

Raven: ... I understand.

Raven: Dead men tell no tales. That’s why their legacies live on in us. We must serve as the torchbearers that carry their stories with us to the future--not for their stories to be repeated, but for the next generation to understand where they came from, and to learn from it.

Raven: I will keep moving forward.

Raven, pensive: You as well, Leona-san. You... should also keep looking forward.

Leona: ... Hmph. Looks to me like you’re living up to your old man’s legacy just fine by doing your own thing.

Leona: Let’s get a move on.

Leona: Next is... What’s one thing you hope to do this year?

Raven: I’d like to get better at communicating face-to-face.

Leona: Oh yeah? That’s a first. You always have your head shoved in a book one way or another. Thought you’d be comfortable sticking to that.

Raven: Yes, and that’s part of the problem...! I tend to prefer the company of books over people. The issue is that I tend to fumble in conversation... Maybe I’m too formal, or too stilted, or too uptight, or just too awkward... Or maybe I say something but it comes off the wrong way because my emotions aren’t fully coming through in how I say the words out loud.

Raven: It makes communication a challenge if I’m not writing down my thoughts--but it’s unrealistic to think that I’ll always have paper on me to write on. I have to get used to communicating clearly with just spoken word.

Raven: I wish I were as free-spirited as Kalim-senpai is. He wears his heart on his sleeve and is amicable with everyone.

Raven: Then there’s Silver-senpai, who is earnest and lives in harmony with the woodland critters.

Raven: Both he and Kalim-senpai are so kind, honest, and approachable. They have boons I can only dream of having myself.

Leona: You’re definitely different from those two, that’s for sure.

Raven: Urk!! I knew I was lacking in this area, but you needn’t affirm it so bluntly!!

Leona: Hah? Whaddya mean? I’m stating an objective, neutral fact. It’s not inherently a bad thing.

Raven: Eh?

Leona: They’ve got their own strengths. So what? You’ve got yours. Weaknesses too.

Leona: Let’s say Kalim was meeting an important dignitary. Sure, he’d chat them up real good, but he also has no filter. If he messes up, that’s it. He’s offended the potential business partner, and no trade deal goes through.

Leona: But you’re cautious. You know when to hold your tongue. You wouldn’t have made that same slip-up.

Leona: Stick you at a party though? That’s where Kalim would thrive and you’d merge with the wallpaper.

Leona: It’s not the skill that matters, but the setting and how the skill is used.

Raven: That’s true... That’s also part of what’s so complicated about speaking with others face-to-face. There are variables you cannot control, another person whose responses you must account for. Things constantly changing.

Raven: When I write, I can manipulate each and every aspect of the conversation. I have as much time as I need to think of a response. 

Raven: I just hope it will come to me with practice. I’ve been pushing myself to go out of my comfort zone lately, staying behind class to exchange a few words with my first-year peers. Even this conversation that we’re having now is considered part of my training regimen!

Leona: Good for you.

Raven: Come to think of it, you’re quite well-articulated yourself, Leona-san. Er, when you want to be. It must come with the royal tutoring.

Leona, slightly amused: You don’t say. Am I riveting enough of a conversation partner for you?

Raven, warily: Well... You’re certainly not Prince Charming, but you’re a prince with your own ‘unique’ charm. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?

Leona: Next is... What is your best subject?

Raven: That would be Ancient Curses.*

[*NOTE: In the official localization, this subject is called “Ancient Magic”.]

Leona: No kidding. It looks like birds of a feather flock together after all.

Raven: Eh, you too?!

Leona: Yeah. ‘s not all bad. It’s a test of your wits, not just busy work to waste time.

Raven, smiling: I know, it’s so interesting!! Deciphering ancient languages, unlocking spells wanted to be kept secret... It’s like solving a puzzle or a riddle, so it’s really satisfying when you finally find the answer. It feels like you earned the right to see it!

Leona: Huh. You’re pretty gung-ho about this.

Raven: I have a personal fascination with it as a writer.

Raven: I mainly write stories in the common tongue, but there are many languages spoken in Twisted Wonderland, each with its own unique grammatical and social rules.

Raven: And in Ancient Curses, we often look at languages no longer spoken. That is to say, dead or extinct languages. Words forgotten by the natural passage of time, or purposefully buried by its original authors.

Raven: If we unearth those words, we can learn more about what once was, and all the things we have yet to understand. There is much knowledge and wisdom from the past that we’ve yet to find.

Raven: Ancient Curses is the bridge between now and then.

Leona: Guess so. 

Leona: You talk about it like you’re looking for something. Did a forbidden dark magic spell catch your eye?

Raven: An answer. I’m looking for an answer.

Raven: (... for this curse of mine.)

Leona: Aren’t we all.

Raven: What are you hoping to get out of your Ancient Curses studies?

Leona: Me? Nothing much. It helps keep me momentarily amused. I’m not looking for the secret to life or the cure to disease or whatever.

Leona: Unlike you, I don’t have any lofty ambitions.

Raven: What a shame. With your abilities, you just may be able to uncover whatever you like.

Raven: In fact, I would say I detected a hint of sarcasm just now, when you said you don’t have any lofty ambitions. It’s not good to tell little white lies, Leona-san.

Leona, with a laugh: Hah! Thanks for the vote of confidence, canary. You put your faith in the strangest of places.

Raven: I don’t think it’s so strange. The flowers in Heartslabyul’s gardens do stranger things than believe in lions. ‘You can really do it if you put your mind to it’... That saying is true for everyone!

Leona: Now that’s some topysy-turvy logic if I’ve ever heard of it.

Leona: As for your ‘answer’... if you manage to find it, be so generous as to share those secrets with the rest of us, won’t you?

Raven: Hehe. Of course I will. That’s a promise!

Leona: We’re done here.

Raven: And not a moment too soon!

Leona, sarcastic: Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re just so eager to be free of my clutches. I won’t take a second more of your precious time.

Leona, with a smirk: Here. Your bouquet. It’s the first and only time I’ll hand you flowers, so enjoy it while you can.

Raven, flatly: Thank you.

Raven: ... Oh my. What a lovely bouquet. Dark blue and burgundy flowers with speckles of small white and gold flowers... It looks like the night sky. They would make for a lovely color of enchanted ink.

Raven: I don’t recognize a lot of these, but blue roses aren’t natural, are they?

Raven: (It’s like me. Something that doesn’t belong, placed there artificially... but it’s still a part of the bouquet, still a part of the story.)

Raven: If I recall correctly, blue roses mean “mystery”, “the unattainable”, and... “a dream come true’.

Leona: Ever the romanticist. Are you going to stand there stalling for time, or are you actually going to fly the Birthday Road? I’m going to see your flying again one way or another. You might as well get it over with now with some grace intact.

Raven: I-I will! I was just admiring the composition of the bouquet before I left! (Oh, WHY did he have to point that out?!)

Raven, getting on the broom and clearing her throat: W-Well then, if you’ll excuse me! I must be off!

Leona: Finally off to see the world? Bring me back a souvenir and a good story while you’re at it, canary.

Raven: I make no such promises, Leona-san!

[bougiebutchbitch]

Heyyy you seem like you really know your batjokes. You got any fics to recommend? Oneshots, longfics, incomplete or not, I'm just looking to feed this craving. I've already read the big ones, REMS, Made for the Journey, Half Way Across, Love and Abuse, etc. I need MOAR

DAMN this is a good question... and one I am only semi-qualified to answer. I've trawled through a fair bit of the Batjokes AO3, but that still amounts to, uh, not even half of it. Any further reccs are welcome! For now though, some favourites, old and new, are under the cut~

Please check each individual fic for rating & warnings.

I'm currently obsessed with The #48 Verse series, by DesdemonaKaylose! Start here...

BRED TO SUFFER (desdemonakaylose)

AU from Batman comics #48: amnesiac Bruce Wayne is saved from having to choose between his newfound peace and the legacy of Batman. And as long as there is no Batman, there can't be a Joker.

John Doe, of the uncannily wide smile and the acid green eyes, deals with a creeping sense of dread that something is poised to go very, very wrong.

After the events of Endgame, amnesiacs Bruce Wayne and John Doe find themselves drawn together and repelled like magnets. Love - and danger - ensues, as their pasts crawl slowly back through cracks in the mirror.

And I can't not mention the other fic I'm obsessed with: AS WE GO ALONG (battybrownboo) - EXPLICIT

Batman and the Joker are perched along the edges of a precarious and complicated affair when an old enemy returns to Gotham. The adversary's desires for revenge against Bruce Wayne have only strengthened with time. This forces the two enemies with benefits on a wild goose chase, and to confront their relationship head on, whether they’re ready or not.

Strong Deadly Duo vibes, but with all the hardcore fucking that DC keep forgetting to add in! Batman and Joker are forced to team up, while navigating a delightfully messy ongoing relationship. As ever, I'm on tenterhooks for the next chapter!

GLASS, CONTENT, PIECES (ashtosilver) - EXPLICIT

"Mr. Wayne, it's this government's decision that regardless of the progress, you will become this man's handler. How he gets to the point of accepting that, is up to you."

Bruce breaks the Joker. But not for himself. Contains rape.

WHAT A WONDERFUL ANIMOSITY (kyrilu)

Joker is preparing to celebrate his and Batman’s upcoming Nemesis Anniversary when he makes the devastating discovery that Batman is married to his roommate Bruce Wayne.

Legobatjokes cuteness!

JUST IN CASE OF SURPRISES (princegrantaire)

What do you get for the man who has everything anyway? A skinny murderous clown, apparently.

Clark gets Bruce a very unconventional birthday present.

After you've worked your way through those, please go read the entire archives of Dracze, Distortopia, Fractualized and Fricketyfrac, aka DDFF, aka the deities of batjokes fic. A couple of faves of theirs that I haven't yet reccommended publicly are:

GOODBYE UNTIL TOMORROW (dracze) - EXPLICIT

Dick and Barbara reminded me what’s important,” Bruce says, quietly. “And there's one more person I want to see.”

So sweet it gave me cavities <3

FRIEND, PLEASE (distortopia)

Joker will not let a disease, of all things, do him in. He was always meant to die at the hands of the Bat. He hadn’t tortured him enough before; he had been holding back. But now he would present Bruce with an impossible, obvious choice: kill Joker before he killed the world.

Joker gets cancer. It goes badly.

(AND I'M DROPPING A SHOUT FOR FALLS THE SHADOW TOO BECAUSE I WANT MORE OF IT PRETTY PLEASE, IT'S SO GOOD)

ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT (fractualized)

The Justice League are regrouping after an attack when an unexpected visitor arrives at Batman's hideout.

The Justice League meet John Doe! <3

GOOD FOR NOTHING (fricketyfrac) - EXPLICIT

Batman investigates why Bane made an appearance at Amusement Mile, and his interrogation of Joker takes a dark turn.

Batman finds the nasty aftermath of a confrontation between Joker and Bane. Warnings for rape and some very, very dubious consent.

[mokagachas]

share with me your great wisdom of of snake gal and water gal for I have not played arknight is a bit

hm okay alright ( muses )

I’ll say right off the bat I’ve mentioned on this blog before that while I don’t dislike romantic ships by any means I find myself very rarely “shipping” characters by pure definition of the word I mostly just enjoy their dynamics and parallels and My Goodness ho’ol and mumu have that in droves with one another

The vast TLDR oversimplification of the two of them: Ho’olheyak and Muelsyse are the last/some of the last of each of their respective races, Ho’olheyak being the last of the K’uk’ulkan and Muelsyse of the elves. Both are long life species naturally, but Ho’olheyak has gone through a torturous ritual at a young age that all K’uk’ulkan go through where she is implanted with the memories of generations of K’uk’ulkan before her. The procedure cuts her life short, and while we don’t know exactly HOW short, its presumably not very long to go

Muelsyse and Ho’olheyak both go on quests to find out what remains of, or what happened to, their people. They both have rather different approaches to it, however, with Muelsyse holds out hope that she’ll find other elves still alive, going on a lone quest to hunt down what remains of them and ultimately discovering that yes, most have died out, partially due to their weakness to originium. Despite this, she herself stays in densely populated city areas and interacts with Infected people frequently, enjoying being a social person while also feeling agonizingly alone. Muelsyse is decidedly a Good Person.

On the flip side, Ho’olheyak almost agonizingly relies on using other people to get the information she wants, seeking less about the specificities of what happened to her race and moreso their purpose and affect. She infiltrates secret organizations, double and triple crosses whenever it suits her whim, and is an utterly self-serving person who has no qualms in committing atrocities to get what she wants- though this is not to be confused with commiting atrocities for the pure joy of it. She ultimately finds a “god” robot thing (long story) that more or less tells her that everything she’s been working for is more or less worthless and she doesn’t necessarily fall to despair, but she does become incredibly languid and passive, though she keeps her trade mark asshole-ish ness.

Muelsyse flat out says it in Ho’olheyak’s files: “We each have what the other lacks.” They’re characters that are Definitely built to be the inverse of each other despite having rather sparing direct interactions in events but being littered in each other’s files. It’s really interesting to me!

But while their long life parallels (or robbed lack thereof in Ho’ol’s case) and relationship with their ancestors are the most obvious connections to be drawn between them, what fascinates me the most is their social parallels and how their experiences have changed how they interact with the world.

Both of them feel incredibly alone in one way or another. For Muelsyse, this comes near to breaking her at times. Despite the people around her that she cares for, and who care for her, she has such a different life experience than everyone else that she feels a disconnect that cannot be bridged. Despite this, she does her best to form genuine connections with those around her, even if they fail to give her what she wants.

Ho’olheyak is alone and at least Thinks she doesn’t care about it. She doesn’t respect many people, if any at all. She shatters every possible connection she could have with a shrug, pursuing only what could benefit her and seeming impartial to what she does to have her way. She is alone yet clearly wants for more: why else would she be seeking for meaning in the K’uk’ulkan so desperately?

These are two people who have had such violently different lived, yet the closest either of them can get to finding someone who can even begin to comprehend the life they’ve led and the struggles they’ve faced is in the other person. They acknowledge to themselves that the other person share similarities, but have trouble crossing that final step due to how the other has acted is so contradictory to their personal motives.

They’re both drawn to and reject the other… I like it :)

[chenfordspiral]

Invading your ask box!

I suck at coming up with questions and also I'm curious of everyone's answers, so in light of manifesting season 7, what are your hopes for when we hopefully get a full season 7?

Go as wild and unrealistic as you want!

Oh boy, this is tough 😂 but thank you so much for asking! I’ve missed being on tumblr and this was so nice to see in my inbox last night 🥰

Well, we might not know what the rest of season 6 will bring but if it doesn’t come up in any of the other six episodes, I’d love to have Lucy and Tim talk about officially moving in together and then actually doing so. I know they’re practically living together already, but I’d love for them to maybe get their own new place together? Get a whole new apartment/house that’s theirs. Honestly, just gimme all the cutesy domestic moments they can fit in because I’m a sucker for that - what else is new? But also, please let them keep working on properly communicating with one another even if it’s hard because no relationship can survive without good communication. 

And, you know, if they're feeling like it, I would also not say no to a proposal.

I WANNA KNOW BABY GIRL EVERS’ NAME FFS. Obviously I’m most invested in Chenford, but it’s driving me insane that we’re 4 eps in, and still don’t know her name. Speaking of kids, I’d love to see more of all the kids Lopez and Harper have. Get rid of some of the unnecessary Bailan domesticity crap and gimme any of the other couples instead. 

Speaking of Bailey.. I’m not a hater, also not exactly a fan, but can we get her in a storyline that doesn’t involve Nolan in some way? I think if she were to interact more with the other characters, we as the audience could potentially get more involved with her character. She’s basically tied to Nolan, and sometimes it feels like a disservice to everyone (including Jenna as an actress) to limit her interactions to basically just him and quick two-sentence exchanges thrown in every 20 eps like with Lucy in 6x04. 

I know it’ll never happen, but I would love to see Chenford babysitting either Jack and his baby sister or baby Leah because we know they’d just.. well, maybe not suck at it but they’d likely struggle and lose a kid or two lol and it’d just be so much fun to watch. 

I also gotta broach the sensitive topic.. I’ve been hoping for Lucy to do a long-term UC op practically since I started watching the show and even more so since Chenford became canon simply because I want to see how she would handle not being able to contact anyone she cares about. Give her a handler that’s not Tim, not Harper, not anyone she’s familiar with so she can experience what it would be like to be completely cut off from her life and the people she loves. Maybe I’m understanding her desire to be a deep cover UC officer and she’d flourish under those circumstances, but I think if she experienced an op without any of her friends (or her boyfriend) as her handler/back up, she’d have a better idea of what her life would really look like if she chose that path. She’s a people person, and I personally don’t think she’d like it as much as I think she wants to like it. (6x02 hinted at her not being as fine about it as she claims to be, and I hope we get to see more of the topic.) If not that, I’d also just like to see an op gone wrong. They’ve all been fairly straight forward without any kind of consequences even after her cover had been blown, and I’d be very interested in seeing something just not go as smoothly. Also, Lucy could do ANY job within the LAPD and absolutely kick ass. Where are all the departments wanting her on their team that the cop offering her that spot at UC school talked about?? Where?! WHERE?!?

I’m rambling now, great. Okay, I’m gonna stop here. I may have missed some obvious wishes here but for now these are some I could think of right off the bat.

Oh oh oh! Lucy’s called Tim babe before, can we get Tim calling Lucy by a pet name? Pretty pleaseeeee 🥺 and last but not least, give us Kojo back. And bring Genny.

Now I’m done. Thank you so much for thinking of me, Suz! ❤︎ This was so much fun!

[puddle-nerd]

Makto

Summary: Tsireya was drunk. Drunk and needy. If he were to allow her to… just… use him… use his body… without his help… (Tsireya/Lo'ak)

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 Prompt 3 (Thigh Riding) for my submission for LunasKinktober2023

Na’vi Translation: Iknimaya — a treacherous but fundamental rite of passage Ma’ — my, mine, a way of showing possession of something Makto — ride Olo’eyktan — Clan Leader Tewng – loincloth Unilpay – alcoholic drink like moonshine (non-canon) Unyor’näk – alcoholic drink like wine (non-canon) Story Tags: Aged up characters, everyone is legal, Yes they’re both eighteen+!, thigh riding, Established Relationship, Consent is key, Drunk is not consent

The alcohol had been flowing that night to celebrate all the new young hunters who had passed their Iknimaya earlier that day. Neteyam, of course, had done so with flying colors as everyone had expected to. Lo’ak, who had failed his first try with the Omatikaya Clan, had surprised his parents and siblings by passing his Metkayina Clan Iknimaya just as well as his elder brother, if not even better, the first time around especially with Payakan having encouraged him this morning, as well as his beloved Tsireya. Though she happily teased him that she was considered more of an adult, having undergone hers before he had done his.

“Will you be able to sit still while you get your heart tattoo, Lo?” she asked coyly, batting her eyelashes up at her darker skinned boyfriend and leaning heavily against his lean frame, clutching her cup of unyor’näk.

Lo’ak rolled his eyes. She just had to tease him about how he flinched slightly any time he got jabbed with a bone quill and in order to get his clan tattoo, he would have to sit still and get jabbed over and over with one while the design was slowly but surely jabbed with dark ink into his skin.

“Good thing you’re so cute,” he grumbled, slinging an arm around her shoulders and kissing her forehead, much to his sister Kiri's disgust. Tsireya’s brother wasn’t much better, Ao’nung rolling his eyes and chugging his unilpay while trying not to itch his healing tattoo upon his left arm. Roxto and Kiri both smacked at his hand, laughing at the other for having the same idea, the male Na’vi flushing under the darker skinned female’s vivacious grin. Lo’ak and his girlfriend glanced at the other and rolled their eyes, giggling at Roxto’s obvious crush.

The night wore on and Tsireya began to hang off of her boyfriend, her giggling becoming more constant and a little louder than necessary until she went to get another cup of unyor’näk and almost tripped over an obvious branch that had been turned into a seat around one of the many beach fires. Lo’ak grabbed her to keep her from hurting herself more than maybe a bruise on her shin in the morning and managed to swing her around so she fell into his lap instead.

“Okay, baby,” he chuckled, not nearly as wasted as she. “I think it’s time we left the party. Ne?”

This seemed to delight her; her blue eyes lit up. “Oh, yesss…” she slurred, pressing her forehead to his. “I wan’ you ‘lone.” Oh… that was an idea.

With a grin to his friends, the younger Sully son scooped up his girlfriend and began to trudge away from the beach, though he was intending on bringing her back to her mauri pod. Maybe with stops along the way for some kisses and maybe just a little bit of groping.

Tsireya let him get as far as the treeline before she struggled to be let down, leaning heavily upon him and smiling up at him very drunkenly. “I love you, Ma’Lo,” she announced, very seriously, before grinning once more. Lo’ak smiled widely, his eyes warm as he stared down at the love of his life. “I love you too, Ma’Reya.” He indulged himself in a kiss with her.

Only to be dragged down as she lost her balance. He quickly twisted to take the impact, her falling across his lap, or straddling his left thigh, in particular. “You alright?” he asked. She nodded and smiled cheekily at him. He wondered why she had adorned that particular look before Lo’ak’s breath stuttered when he felt his girlfriend nuzzle her face against his chest, her curls tickling his throat, his shoulder, and his bicep. Then she wiggled her hips and it was like a strong punch to his guts, a groan escaping his throat when he felt her warm, damp cunt against the skin of his thigh, only separated by the thinnest piece of fabric.

“Hmmm, so warm, Lo,” she whimpered, shifting over the strong muscles of his leg and pressing her plush lips against his pectoral muscle. “My tummy feels so warm… like the way it gets when you touch me or press your mouth to me. Oh, please touch me. I want that feeling I get when you touch me.”

The younger Sully son breathed through his nose and pressed his lips together and oh, Eywa, did he want to indulge in his girlfriend’s body and give her pleasure and feel pleasure in return but she was intoxicated. And that reminded him, rather painfully, of the time his father had pulled him aside with a very firm hand on the back of his neck after he had learned that his youngest son and Tsireya had first gotten together. Jake had told Lo’ak very, very firmly that if either of he or the Olo’eyktan’s daughter got drunk, he should resist the urge to indulge in carnal pleasure, no matter how good it felt because if either of them were intoxicated, they couldn’t actually give 100% consent, which was key to a healthy relationship, like the one Jake had with Neytiri. And Lo’ak wanted that – not the exact same relationship his parents had but one that lasted and was built on trust and if he violated that trust…

Tsireya was drunk. Drunk and needy, but he couldn’t give in, even though he wanted to. He refused to give in to his baser urges and have his girlfriend feel like he had taken advantage of her drunken state. However, if he were to allow her to… just… use him… use his body… without his help… That could, technically, change the whole situation, no?

“It’s okay,” Lo’ak whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Take what you need, baby. Use me how you need. Makto.”

Tsireya smiled slightly and settled herself a little more firmly upon his thigh, her knee brushing against the firm bulge beneath his tewng. A lascivious smirk crossed her pretty lips as she began to rock herself back and forth over his thigh, pretty little moans and whimpers escaping her lips. The male Na’vi bit his lip watching his girlfriend rub herself over him, grinding her hot, little nub against the firm muscle of his leg while her arousal trickled out of her, warm and wet all across his skin.

Lo’ak choked back a groan, forcing both of his hands behind his head and watching as his girlfriend’s eyes fluttered closed and her back arched as her hips moved back and forth, a salacious moan trickling from her mouth, her teeth biting her plush lower lip, and her pussy leaking steadily.

“Feel s’good, Lo,” she whimpered, her hands now bracing themselves against the tensed muscles of his abdomen. “Always make me feel s’good.”

The dark blue Na’vi bit back a groan, his nails biting into his wrists to keep from touching his lover, the only woman he wanted in the world, the one he wanted to mate with and have children with… one day. He watched her avidly through half lidded eyes as she chased her building pleasure, her perky breasts bouncing slightly beneath her necklace with every movement and all he allowed himself to do was watch. Her breathing picked up as she leaned forward slightly, grinding a little harder against him as the telltale signs of her getting close to the edge started to show.

“Yeah, baby,” Lo’ak moaned, tail lashing as she eyes squeezed shut and she whined with every single one of her movements. “Keep going. Keep riding my thigh like that. Get y’self off like you need to. My good girl.”

That was all it took.

Tsireya whined his name as her back arched, stiffly for a moment before trembling took over her limbs and her climax washed over her, her cunt gushing out more fluid than before. Finally, Lo’ak grabbed his girlfriend about the hips to steady her as she began to go lax, pulling her against his chest and allowing her to now use him as a body pillow, her own thigh coming down heavily upon his erection and forcing him to choke back a moan of need. This wasn’t about him. This was about her. Besides, he could always make sure to bury himself inside of her tomorrow night, if she was willing, of course. With a gentle kiss to her forehead, he scooped her up and headed towards her family mauri pod to deposit her into her bed, like a good boyfriend should after a night like this one.

He could always tease her about it in the morning.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 03 October 2023 Word Count: 1,443

AO3

@pandoraslxna, @eyweveng

[yangzhouman]

long post about batman beyond because i have feelings

batman beyond is so damn bleak in the obvious ways and yet it goes all the way thru. like it initially positions itself as a story about how “keeping it in the family” just ends up with dead family members and the only way out of being eaten by generational trauma is to abandon the family structure. what bruce and terry have at the start is loose and resistant to definition even when others try (”your keeper’s here” and “who else could take care of his affairs? he has no wife, no children.” / “me. i could do it.” / ) and when they (meaning terry and bruce) eventually label it as an employer/employee kinda thing it feels fresh. 

when you’re the best man for the job you can call your boss a bitch. and he’s not gonna be in your living room at the end of a stressful day. there’s distance. there’s employee rights. they both care deeply about their job and eventually about each other but there’s no guilt when the job gets in the way, because there’s nothing for it to get in the way of -- their relationship IS batman.

it feels un-familial EVEN WHEN the family metaphor gets pushed onto them. it’s important that bruce isn’t terry’s father; terry has a father that he loves, and bruce needs to come to terms with a more impersonal, wider guilt of being an ageing bat in a city that will never stop needing batman. when others do try to conceptualise whats going on with terry and bruce thru a family lens, it jars because that straight up isn’t the connection they have, and people can tell -- they’re just missing the context of both being batman.

it’s good! it’s really good! it turns batman on its head by looking at it as an ideological gap that people can slip into, rather than something that is handed down, man to boy, with a clear lineage and direction -- now it’s an analytical framework of vigilantism that is open to all who feel brave. widening batman up like this makes barbara’s relationship with bruce & batman a little more complex too, as she is distinctly not a wayne and does not see bruce as her father, but still stepped into a sort of shadow/partner role to the big bat (misogyny... she’s proto-terry in the context of batman beyond but why does terry get to be more? questions i know the answer to.)

imo batman beyond, when at its best, makes batman a possibility: a nebulous idea that centres around gotham and righteousness rather than an individual and his grief. it’s a way out for bruce in particular, who calls himself batman in his own head but has to come to terms with a new bat who has no debt with him in any way -- and he grows in that safe relationship. as an old man! he grows!

and then. and then. oh my god. oh my godddd dc falls to its old ways and terry becomes bruce’s biological son? he gets narutofied*? it is single-handedly the worst thing that has ever happened to me. there is no escape! batman is bruce wayne and can only be bruce wayne. it/he is a trap that absorbs anyone who comes near! batfam is a curse that infects and infects! i am putting up with it because i like batman beyond so much even with this. but god. what a letdown what a needless twist in a universe that already has MANY cloning stories and MANYYYYY biological heir stories

*this refers to uzumaki naruto from NARUTO who starts as a nameless orphan in a hostile world, but then discovers that he is actually the son of two very important people, which stands in opposition to the earlier story beats and makes him special in a way that i find very gross, as it cheapens the work that he has done as a character-in-story to carve out a place for himself in the narrative world, and shows a lack of commitment on the author’s part to challenging storytelling by relying on the tired shonen tropes of bloodline rights and inherited power as proof of character significance

[crossroadsdimension]

Okay okay okay okay. I’ve had some time to go do irl stuff and just chew on this episode so I think I can come in swinging.

With how fast-paced Stampede is, Studio Orange did a really good job with holding Vash’s secrets over our heads, as well as establishing plot and the world.

This’ll get into Ep 7 spoilers (as well as Maximum and Trigun spoilers up to the point Ep 7 ends, along with some of the plot points Stampede covers already), so I’ll put all this under a readmore. That, and this got Very Long.

I’ll be referring to each source as:

Manga/Maximum

90s anime/Trigun

‘23 anime/Stampede

I think firstly, they’re treating this as a half-FMA Brotherhood, half-original work. I say that because it doesn’t entirely follow the original manga (or the 90s anime for obvious reasons), but it does seem to assume you’re coming in knowing these characters from somewhere first. My dad said the two shows “sharpen each other,” so if you approach Stampede knowing that it came from somewhere else and you have that knowledge, it’ll make Stampede all that more enjoyable.

Which is part of the reason why they make clear part of Vash’s origin -- that he was on the spaceships when they crashed -- and that he is a Plant that much sooner than the 90s anime did.

But to get back to Stampede’s episodes -- we have 12 episodes this season, and they wanted to get the groundwork of the plot done as quickly as possible to make sure we’re hooked for what’s coming. That means establishing setting, characters, conflicts, and all the good good world-building that makes people go nuts for characters.

So telling us right off the bat “hey, we’re on a desert world where colony ships crashed” makes sense for episode 1. Get that out of the way, establish setting. Get us introduced to Meryl and Roberto -- the eyes of the new and old fans respectively -- and get us introduced to Vash, in a new form but still the lovable pacifist gunslinger who uses his goofy side as a thin mask to hide his true, quiet, sad, serious self. This gives us most of our main characters for the season.

Then we get Vash’s philosophy in Episode 2 -- save everyone on the planet, no matter who they are or what they do, and no matter how difficult it is to do so.

Episode 3 introduces us to Knives and his cronies, even if we don’t get the name for the organization here. We have established conflict -- Vash’s fight against Knives, and his fight to figure out and hone his philosophy further, to establish the side he fights on.

Episode 4 gives us Wolfwood, and hints that “hey, he may not be here for entirely good reasons.” But it’s good to establish all the main characters early in the plot. That, and this is the start of Act 2 according to Studio Orange, which is a perfect time to bring in someone who represents Vash’s conflict with his philosophy and act as a foil for his character.

Episode 5 establishes the plant cult, their experimentation, and one of the larger hints about Vash and what he is. We had hints before, with the circuitry pattern on his child self in Ep 1-3, and his superhuman sight, excellent marksmanship, and superhuman hearing. But here, it shows us that he hasn’t physically aged in the last 20 years, and this is the first time Meryl and Roberto realize “Oh, we may be in over our heads.” Or, at least, Roberto does. Meryl just smells more of a story than what she’s been told or has heard.

Ep 5 also establishes the conflict between Vash and Wolfwood as foils -- whether or not you have to kill someone, or if you can let them live. This is what Wolfwood is here for. He is a kind man who doesn’t want to kill people, but sees that he has no choice. Vash, by contrast, is a kind man who doesn’t want to kill people, and thinks he has other options, doing everything he can to make them reality. Both are going to show that their outlooks on life are right and wrong, and they’re going to rub off on each other.

Ep 6 goes to establish further information about the plant cult (now given a name, the Eye of Michael), using the “monster of the week” (sorry Livio), and his connection to Wolfwood. More world-building, more fights, and a nice juicy amount of backstory about our traveling undertaker (including Legato’s first appearance!). Not to mention more establishment for Vash’s strange abilities -- I mean, you saw him punch Livio across the deck without winding up for the punch. Skinny plant boy is strong, stronger than the average human.

And then we get to Episode 7 this week, giving us more backstory for Wolfwood and Livio (hence the episode’s title), on the backdrop of the Bad Lads clamoring onto the ship for a robbery and safely bringing Meryl and Roberto on board. Which likely failed because 1) Vash came in and beat them all up in hand-to-hand and 2) they likely saw the ion cannon charging up and decided it was better to skadoodle. At least they have more of a desire to stay alive this time than in Trigun. All episode, we continue to get hints that Vash and Wolfwood are more than the sum of their parts -- pushing the ion cannon away from Hopeland, Vash’s knowledge of Lost Technology, and Vash’s acknowledgement of Wolfwood’s connection to Livio and his eagerness to help Wolfwood “wake Livio up.”

Oh, right. And more development for Legato, who decided he wanted to force Wolfwood to kill Livio and watch his home die because he wanted to make Wolfwood lose his ability to love others and decide that “my home is dead, might as well destroy everything around me and take the world down with me.” Trying to reel a loose cannon in line with that idea is only asking for trouble -- for the instigator. I see Legato getting his head blown open the first chance Wolfwood has.

And to wrap it all up, we end Episode 7 on the reveal that “Oh yeah, by the way, Vash is a Plant. We’ve been dropping hints about his inhuman nature, and it makes sense to confirm it here -- both for the newbies, and the old fans who already know. Time to wrap up this act and start a new one!”

Now, If you’ve read Maximum, they do show Vash talking with a Plant on the sandsteamer, like they did with Stampede’s episode this week. It even happens during a Bad Lads invasion of a sandsteamer, when it goes wild and is about to crash (except in Maximum and Trigun they’re sending it off a cliff). They don’t show this scene in Trigun, however, instead focusing on Kite as he’s using his dad’s plans to save the steamer, redeeming himself for his earlier actions. This artificially lengthens the amount of time folks have to question how Vash knows stuff -- like the robots in Trigun’s Ep 9, where he made a comment about them being well past their expiration date, and knew how to shut down the facility.

I think, when people complain about Stampede showing things “right away,” a lot of it comes from what they remember of the Trigun anime, rather than Maximum. We get larger hints in Maximum, so they give us larger hints in Stampede. Especially when you take into account the “hey, we’re remixing the plot of an old anime and an old manga that people already know.”

All in all, I think Orange is doing a very good job working with what they have, and that will only become more clear the more we move forward, and the more we have to look back on.

And I am very much looking forward to having more of the full picture.

[mischiefxmuses]

*UPDATING THIS TO ADD THE STARTER CALL*

So I will be starting off the event on hiatus but then around a lot more. Below are all muses for plotting etc... I will do a starter call nearer the time but if you want to do any big plots etc... just like this and I'll hop into DMs. All plots will depend on the roll. For starters I will likely be dropping most threads pre-event except for very plot heavy threads but I'll try to wrap them up prior (may not happen because I am on hiatus) but we will see. Please specify which muse and who for otherwise I probably won't do them. I don't have the brain capacity to decide muses. xD Will cap at 3 starter requests per mun (not including plotted threads) and each muse at 4 starters. Please spread the love among my muses.

Went in willingly:

Henry Creel, Billy Loomis, Charlie Weasley, Iorveth, Hera, Kirby, Loki, Peter Hale, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Lyanna Stark, Nimona

Dragged in:

Angel, Charles Xavier, Cleo Mckinnon, Cordelia Goode, Dream, Fleur Delacour Weasley, Galadriel, Harwin, Hunter, Jorah, Rabastan Lestrange, Satine Kryze, Silco, Sion Val Palpatine, Tenel Ka Djo, Percival De Rolo

Starter Call

Henry Creel (1/4)

Doom - Monster: Living corn attempting to eat characters. It is still the size of regular corn.

Billy Loomis (0/4)

Plotted:

Stu - Characters are greeted by two beings the size of children but with pumpkins for heads arrive with a cart, gesturing for characters to get in.

Tara - Monster: Ghosts

Jill - Monster: Murderous clown

Charlie Weasley (3/4)

Fred - Characters encounter a pit trap, so obvious they almost want to explore

Lou - Characters reach a dead end, full of pollen spores, which when inhaled make characters feel drunk for the next hour.

Hagrid - Characters encounter a pit trap, so obvious they almost want to explore

Iorveth (0/4)

Hera (0/4)

Plotted:

Avarr - Monster: Giant spiders

Ahsoka - This portion of the maze is full of people except their faces are blank, no eyes, nose or mouth. It feels like they’re staring at you anyway, slowly walking toward you wherever you go.

Kirby (0/4)

Plotted:

Stu - Monster: Skeletons

Tara - Monster: Living corn attempting to eat characters. It is still the size of regular corn.

Loki (1/4)

Zoya - Characters reach a dead end, full of pollen spores, which when inhaled make characters feel drunk for the next hour.

Peter Hale (0/4)

Plotted:

Beverly - Monster: A swarm of bats

Allison - Monster - Minotaur

Yennefer of Vengerberg (1/4)

Dru - Monster: Masked murderer wearing the Ghostface mask

Lyanna Stark (1/4)

Sansa - Monster: Werewolf

Nimona (2/4)

Laudna - Monster: Stormtroopers

Faye - The area is just absolutely full of croaking frogs. They aren’t dangerous but they are loud and difficult to step around.

Angel (0/4)

Plotted 1. Buffy - Characters reach a dead end, full of pollen spores, which when inhaled make characters feel drunk for the next hour.

Charles Xavier (1/4)

Steve - Monster: Stormtroopers

Plotted:

Jean - Monster: Ghosts

Cleo Mckinnon (1/4)

Fliss - Characters reach a dead end, full of pollen spores, which when inhaled make characters feel drunk for the next hour.

Cordelia Goode (1/4)

Addison - Characters enter the area to be met with high speed winds, strong enough to push people around

Dream (0/4)

Plotted:

Elijah - Characters walk into this portion of the maze to immediately be caught in a giant spider web, trapping them.

Fleur Delacour Weasley (0/4)

Plotted:

Roxy - Monster: Dementors

Galadriel (1/4)

fiona - Characters are greeted by a giant rushing stream going all the way across the maze that they must cross in order to keep moving.

Harwin (1/4)

James - Characters find this section of the maze to be extremely cold, with frost hanging from all of the corn stalks and the icey ground beneath their feet making the terrain difficult to traverse.

Plotted:

Baela - Monster: Stormtroopers

Hunter (0/4)

Plotted:

Feyre - Monster: Living scarecrow

Rowena - Monster: A swarm of bats

Jorah (0/4)

Plotted

Daenerys - Monster: Gritty

Rabastan Lestrange (1/4)

Xeno - Monster: Gelatinous cube

Satine Kryze (1/4)

Dinah - Monster: Murderous clown

Silco (0/4)

Plotted:

Avarr - Characters enter a portion of the maze to find it completely dark.

Sion Val Palpatine (1/4)

Sabina - Monster: Vampire

Plotted:

Samara - Characters enter a portion of the maze to find it completely dark.

Soren - Characters are greeted by a giant rushing stream going all the way across the maze that they must cross in order to keep moving.

Sheev - Characters enter a mud filled portion of the maze, where their footsteps feel heavy, and every push further seems to sink them farther and farther into the mud.

Ashley - Monster: A hoard of geese

Tenel Ka Djo (0/4)

Plotted:

Leia - Monster: Minotaur

Percival De Rolo (1/4)

Ransom - Characters enter the area to be met with high speed winds, strong enough to push people around

Vex - The husks of corn emit a poisonous gas, making characters weaker the longer they breath it in

[dragonprincequotesimadeup]

A bunch of incorrect quotes for fun

Soren: Remember that time you dared me to lick a swingset? Claudia: No, I said "Soren, don't lick that swingset" and you said "Don't tell me what to do" and licked the swingset.

Callum: Are you a cuddler? Rayla: I'm a machine of death and destruction. Callum: Rayla: ...Yeah, I'm a cuddler.

Soren: A fistfight CAN be romantic.

Claudia: So Terry, how did your first time cooking dinner go?  Terry: Pretty good if I do say so myself.  Claudia: Oo! Okay, what are we having?  Terry: Alright, so for appetizers, we have a potato.  Claudia: A whole potato?  Terry: Yes. And then for the main course, we have grilled cheese sandwiches!  Claudia: These just look like big slabs of black.  Terry: Because that's what they are!  Terry: And then for desert, we have chocolate.  Claudia: These are just chocolate chips?  Terry: They sure are!  Terry: And then for drinks, we have toast!  Terry: *lifts up a glass of blended toast* Bon appetite! 

Terry: Maybe the real monster was the friends we both literally and figuratively murdered along the way.

Rayla: Why are there little handprints all over the walls? Callum, whispering: Why are there little handprints all over the walls? Ezran, whispering: Because I have little hands. Callum: Because he has little hands.

Rayla: I apologize for saying 'fuck' in front of Ezran. Callum: You just said it again Ezran: Rayla: I am not a role model. Soren: Welcome to my very first vlog, in which I try different hair products! Soren: *sprays hairspray in their mouth* Soren: Well, right off the bat I can tell you this one is not very good. Rayla: The only straight I am is a straight-up badass. Ezran: *is visibly upset* Rayla: Ezran, what happened? I haven't seen you like this since you found out candyland wasn't an actual country. Claudia: Come on, Soren! How many times do I have to apologize? Soren: Once! Claudia: ...No.

Terry: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response. Claudia: Wow. They sound stupid.  Terry: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.  Claudia: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”  Terry: I guess you’re right. Hey Claudia, I love you.  Claudia: See! Just say that!  Terry: Holy fucking shit.  Claudia: If that flies over their head then, sorry Terry, but they're too dumb for you.  Terry: Claudia. 

Soren: I’m a fool, not an idiot.

Soren: How do Rayla and Callum usually get out of these messes? Ezran: They don't. They just make a bigger mess that cancels the first one out.

Soren, sweating: Corvus, there’s something I need to ask you- Corvus: Finally! You’re proposing! Soren: How’d you know? Corvus: Soren, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner. Corvus: I even picked it up once.

Claudia: Isn't it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?

Terry: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait. Claudia: You and me! Terry: *tearing up* Ok.

Callum: I’ve invited you here because I crave the deadliest game... Rayla, nodding: Knife Monopoly. Callum: I was actually going to play Russian roulette, but now I'm really interested in whatever knife Monopoly is.

Corvus: Please could you go to the shop and get a carton of milk, if they have avocados get six. Soren, coming back from the store with six cartons of milk: They had avocados!

Soren: The greatest trick the devil ever played was getting me banned from an all you can eat pizza buffet. Corvus: Why’d you get banned? Soren: Touched the rat. Corvus: … What rat? Soren: Chunky Cheese.

[idiacide]

Something Fruity, For Pride

A commission fic for @dulcesiabits who requested a Ruggie x Reader fic based on that one tumblr post who I cannot dig up for the life of me. You'll know the one as you ready it

Ruggie Bucchi/Reader, 2.7k words

TW: Food, eating

“Oh my god, hurry up!!!!”

“It has to look natural!” You insist, turning the bag on the bench and backing up once more to assess it critically. Not quite right…maybe leaning a little more on the armrest.

“Minion, I’m getting booooored!” Grim rocked from paw to paw like an impatient toddler, tugging at the hem of your uniform insistently. You were starting to attract looks from passersby, and despite the gnawing sense that it still looked too obvious, it was enough encouragement to leave it alone. Scooping a protesting Grim up, you cross the courtyard towards one of the shadowy stone alcoves on the perimeter.

“If it looks like bait whoever’s doing this won’t come get it!” You hiss, letting Grim squirm free of your grip to climb on your shoulders. He snorts, kneading biscuits into your jacket.

“You’re crazy.”

Maybe a little. But after the past few weeks, who could blame you?

It’d all started nearly a month ago, at lunch. You’d managed to wrestle a table for yourself, Ace, and Deuce, circumstances rare enough to be noteworthy on their own. While swapping notes for history, you spotted Jack’s pointy ears peeking up over the crowd and waved him over. Jack had rolled his eyes, but shouldered his way towards you nonetheless. As he got closer, you realized he had a tagalong: Ruggie, hanging on to the taller boy’s tail.

“Hey!” You called, once they’re both close enough to hear. You’d looked down at their current arrangement with raised eyebrows. “Uh…little nervous, Ruggie?”

Ruggie just laughed, releasing Jack’s tail. As usual, he was overloaded with food, apparently having taken as much as he could carry out. “Nah, just taking advantage of the big lug to get to the good stuff faster.” 

Jack mumbled something nondescript, craning his neck to see if his tail is ok before realizing he was starting to walk in circles. He set his tray down with a huff and dug into his food. Ruggie, meanwhile, focused his efforts on rearranging his purchases so they sit more securely in his grip.

‘Do you need some help with that…?” You had said, rising to your feet and reaching out to help balance some buns that were threatening to topple.

Ruggie’s face went a little pink and he leaned back. Not quite a jerk back, just getting some distance. “Nah, I got it! Just uh….” He glanced around for a second before setting some things on the table, crouching down. The position hid him from view while he focused on the task at hand, cursing under his breath.

“Jeez, dude.” Ace said through a mouthful of food. “Trying to carry off the cafeteria’s supply?” 

“Nah, Leona’s just peckish and sent me in with a list as long as my arm.” After another second or two he rose to his feet, chucking an apple at Ace. He spluttered, nearly falling out of his chair as he dove to catch it. Ruggie’s fashioned the lower half of his shirt into a pouch of sorts, allowing him to cradle all the food at once.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” You asked, nodding towards the open seat beside you. Ruggie shook his head, however.

“Should get this stuff to him before it gets weird tasting.” Carefully, he leaned across the table to ruffle Jack’s hair, much to his chagrin. “Keep outta trouble, alright big guy?” After a second’s hesitation, he turned to do the same to you. There was a wide grin on his face as you laughed and batted his hand away, making him back off towards the exit. “You too, Prefect.” 

You watched him go, trying not to sigh audibly. Seemed like Ruggie only got busier lately. Maybe you should actually try to set up some kind of official hangout instead of just waiting for the stars to align…

It worried you a little more than you’d like to admit. Sure, people got busy. Especially Ruggie. But you and him had always been close, since very early on in your stay here. Lately you couldn’t escape the nagging sensation that he was avoiding being alone with you. Nothing you could prove, but the feeling persisted nonetheless. Still, he didn’t seem upset with you about anything. So what could it-

“SHIT!” The exclamation from your left startled you out of your thoughts. You turned to see Deuce frantically tearing through his bag, eyes wide and face pale.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ace said, straightening up and taking a bite of the apple.

“My notebook’s not here! The one with my notes for the entire semester.” Deuce groaned, letting the bag drop to the table and burying his head in his hands. “I’m so screwed, I don’t have any copies of that information anywhere.”

“Hey, don’t freak out.” You said, bending down to retrieve your own bag. You pull it onto the table, flipping  “We sit next to each other, maybe it got mixed up in my stuff-....”

“.....”

“.....”

“....Well is it in there?!”

Without a word you overturned your bag, dumping out a small pile of papers, textbooks….and oranges. “Alright. Which one of you?”

“Uh…what?” Ace raised an eyebrow.

“Which one of you did this.”

“Wasn’t me!”

Deuce was frantically tearing through the stack of paper, sighing in relief when he found what he was looking for. “O-or me.”

Jack’s withering look communicated enough.

“Weird prank anyways.” You picked up one of the oranges and picked at the peel. “What is this even supposed to accomplish?”

“Why are you still looking at me?!” Ace protested.

—

That was how it began.

Innocuous, really. Not something worth getting worked up about, as annoying as their persistent denial was. You’d written it off as Deuce (thus also explaining how his homework got in your bag) and had called it a day. Your friends were weird, but what else was new?

Little did you suspect, it was only the beginning.

“I’m telling you, someone is stalking me!”

“And your evidence is…?” Jack said, slinging his gym bag off of his shoulder to rummage through the contents. You were walking together to a joint class, with him very pointedly ignoring the slightly bruised tangerine you kept gesturing with.

“Do I really have to explain why??” You shoved it back in his face nonetheless. “It is literally not possible that I keep forgetting about putting fruit in my bag! Not this often!”

“So your more reasonable theory is that someone is maliciously slipping you fruit?” Jack finally pulled what he was looking for out of his bag. Your gym clothes, which you’d left at Savanaclaw during the Octavinelle incident. He shoved them at you in a wad.

“I didn’t say maliciously.” You took the clothes out of his hand. From the smell, they’d been laundered at least, if not folded. Felt weirdly heavy though. “I’m just struggling to come up with any other explanation for why-”

Thump thump thump.

Both of you fell silent. Gazes drifting down to the floor, where, at your feet, rested three apples that had fallen out of the bundle of clothes in your hand.

“......Please tell me that’s-”

“I’m not the one.” Jack insisted, stooping to pick up the apples and handing them to you. “It’s not something I’d waste my time with…..” You must look in distress, because he pats your shoulder before breezing past you.  “Sorry.”

—

It wasn’t so much that it was a bad thing. You weren’t deluding yourself that this was some kind of precursor to an attack on your life. It was, after all, NRC. If someone wanted to attack you, they just would. But it was weird, weird in a way that specifically unsettled you. Mostly it was just the not knowing. Who was putting this much work in to keep their identity a secret over fruit, and why?

The final straw, though, had been just three days ago.

Alone in your dorm. Was there ever four more delightful words? Grim had taken off for the afternoon to practice combat magic with Ace and Deuce. Normally you tried to be present, but after the week you‘d had you felt like you’d earned some time by yourself. It was a hot summer day. You’d propped most of the windows open to let some air circulate and spent most of the afternoon drifting between the couch, the chairs, and the kitchen, phone in hand and scrolling idly through social media. Eventually, you’d decided to actually take advantage of the time to accomplish something at least halfway productive. You still had a few lab reports for Crewel that needed filling out…

Your bag on the table. Just where you’d left it. Unassuming. The same as ever. 

Ungodly heavy when you picked it up. Enough that it slipped from your hand and onto the floor. The flap, unzipped, fell open to spill lemons, oranges, peaches, and a few bananas all over your floor.

Grim came back that night to find you parked by the kitchen windows, broom in hand and a wild look in your eyes.

—-

So now here you were. A few weeks older, a few fruit fuller, and a whole lot more paranoid. Stakeout had been Ace’s suggestion, but that hadn’t meant either of the boys were willing to help. That left just you and Grim, who was clearly getting more bored with each passing minute.

“I still don’t get what the big deal is!” He whined, flopping onto his back by your feet. “Its free food! Its a good thing!”

“There’s no such thing as a free lunch…” You darted your head back again, only for your eyes to widen. “Wait, is that….”

“Is that wh- MMPH!”

Your hand clapped over his mouth. Eyes locked on the person in front of your bag, the person shuffling around as he looked between the plaza and your bag. His hand plunged into his jacket pocket, and emerged cupping something fist-sized and round.

“Ruggie?!” 

The hyena jumps about three feet in the air, the peach in his hand nearly slipping out of his grasp. He scrambles to catch it, winding up crouched on the ground with his entire torso curled protectively over it. As you march across the plaza you see his eyes dart about in every direction until they land on you. “Jeez, prefect, what the hell was that for?”

“You’re the one who’s been putting fruit in my bag??”

He straightens up, hands darting back to slip the peach into his pocket like he can hide it now. He laughs, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows. As if you’d just said something completely insane (which was a look you were getting a lot of lately). “Uh…..the what?” 

But for as much as he presents himself as a hardened criminal, Ruggie’s not much of a liar. His ears are flattening to the side of his skull and his cheeks are flushing a bright pink.

“I saw you!” A squeak from your hands reminds you that you might be suffocating Grim, and you let go to cross your arms over your chest. For now you ignore his furious protests from down on the ground. “I can’t believe I didn’t put it together, you were literally right by my bag with all that food…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His face twitches into a scowl even as he colors more.

You look pointedly down at his hand. Ruggie sighs, shoving them into his pockets and looking off to the side.

“....Fine. Yeah, it was me. Happy?”

“Why, I’ve literally been tearing my hair out about this!” You duck your head as you try to catch his gaze. It’s not easy, those blue eyes seemed determined to look anywhere else. “It’s a really weird prank to pull.”

“Wasn’t a prank.” He mutters, grinding his heel back into the cobblestone.

Shit, he seems embarrassed. And irritated, but mostly embarrassed. You guess you had kinda cornered him, and even if he was the one acting weird some part of you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Stopping to apologize now might just make it worse though. 

“.......Hey….I’m not mad at you, yanno?” You say, trying to gentle your tone a little. It seems to catch him off guard, at least a bit, because his eyes finally meet yours for a half second. “I’m mostly just curious why you’re smuggling me food.”

“.....” For a second he looks like he might bolt. He studies your expression before sighing, rubbing the back of his head. “I mean….I’ve told you about where I grew up. Food scarcity is. Kinda a big thing for me.”

“So why give it to me?” 

“....” 

“I mean I know things are usually pretty tight with Crowley, but its not like you have to worry about…me…..”

……Oh you’re an idiot. Oh you’re dumb. Your heart skips a beat before doubling its efforts to make up for the lost time. Ruggie doesn’t look much better off, his face now red enough to make every freckle pop. For a moment you just stare at each other in silence.

It hits you now that you want this. That you have for a long time. You’d always known you liked him. He was cute, and more than that, fun to be around in a way you didn’t often get at this school. You…had a lot of trust in Ruggie. For as much as he liked to play the fasttalking rogue in a lot of ways he was one of the most giving people you knew. Even this whole endeavor had been a prolonged (albeit roundabout) way of looking out for you. But only now, looking at his face fight between trying to play it cool and pleading desperation…do you realize exactly how deep those feelings run.

“....Unless….you wanted to…to t-take care of me.” You swallow. Has your tongue always felt this thick and heavy, so obtrusive and useless in your mouth? “Which…I would be fine with.’

There’s a pause that’s just long enough to make you want to crawl under the earth. His eyes widen, just a hair, and for a second he’s at a loss. That slow playful grin begins to creep back though, slipping over his face with a warmth you feel like you’d never seen before.

“That so?” He takes a step closer now. Not quite closing the gap, but its not really doing your chest palpitations any favors. “If that’s the case, think you could make it a little easier? Lot of effort I gotta put in here.”

Give and take, huh? Despite the fact that it makes your stomach want to pirouette out of your body you force yourself to take a step forward. Meet him almost in the middle, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of each other. “Since when are you scared by hard work?”

He snickers, but doesn’t respond for a second. Out of the corner of your eye you see his hand inching upwards, right towards your face. Ruggie catches your gaze and the hand stills in midair. That look is back. Silently asking for permission.

You nod.

His hand slips over your cheek. Its almost too tentative for a caress, the rough pads of his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw, your cheek, sliding up to toy with a stray bit of hair. Your lips part a little involuntarily, pulse thumping away as you watch him. There’s something in his touch, his gaze. Like he regards you as delicate. 

Precious.

“Just to be clear, we’re not talking about the fruit, right.”

It startles you enough to make you snort, trying not to pull out of his reach when your head ducks. “No…”

“Thank god.” He groans, leaning in a little more. “Expensive habit, I can only steal Leona’s card so many times. Well….actually that’s a lie. Its just a hassle.”

“Woooow, what a provider.” You can’t stop grinning, head tilting towards him as your gaze starts to circle on his lips.

“Hey, hyenas are scavenger predators! I’m doing what nature intended. Although….” A mischievous look lights up his eyes. His free hand reaches back to his pocket, and suddenly something solid is being pressed against your lips.

You look down to see the peach. Held gently against your mouth by Ruggie’s hand.

“Be a shame to waste it. Eat up~”

[stars-and-darkness]

WIP WEDNESDAY!!!

week #9

okay, we're back into the 'things i wrote, but unless it's here, it's very likely they won't see the light of day' file. i'd fiddled some with a possible sequel to nyctophilia., but ultimately decided against it. there are some gems in that doc, though, so:

Stefan had been so focused on dreading a werewolf hunt with the Original Family he’d completely forgotten to dread going on a road-trip with (a truly astounding number of) siblings. Considering the brother he has, he should really have known better.

And it becomes pretty apparent that though his (captors, slave-drivers) companions are almost all over a thousand years old, they have yet to grow into bearable road-trip buddies. The minivan they’ve procured for this occasion is top-of-the-line, brand new, but it still isn’t enough to comfortably host six vampires (and their egos), a coffin (because they apparently wanted their eldest brother with them, but not enough to actually wake him from the magical coma-death-thing the dagger put him in), and three different mini-fridges (one for blood bags no-one but Stefan drinks from because they all hate the plastic aftertaste, one for snacks they religiously re-stock and label with marks of ownership, and one for booze that ranges from cheap root beer to several-thousand-dollars-a-bottle liquor).

Honestly, though. The snacks are sacred. When Rebekah asked him (batting her eyelashes in a way that made him vaguely uncomfortable, both because he loved Elena and because he’d just gotten back his memories of loving Rebekah) what he’d like, he’d said something non-committal about not giving a damn. In retrospect, he regrets it, because the first time he tries to grab some of her Red Vines, she nearly rips his head off, newly re-awoken love or not.

Klaus just laughs from behind the wheel and pops a fistful of Reese’s Pieces into his mouth. They change drivers every three hours because it’s six of them, and even though they could all go on for days, why should they? He has so far learned to dread Kol’s (a damn maniac if there ever was one, he seems determined to find out if vampires really can’t get heart attacks and Stefan is his lab rat) and Elijah’s (the other end of the scale, unfailingly keeping to every single traffic law to the letter, though he thinks it’s just to annoy Kol) driving skills. The others, surprisingly enough, seem fairly reasonable drivers. No-one lets Stefan behind the wheel, though. Something, something, they fear he’ll drive them off a cliff and then they’d have to get a new minivan.

Well, Stefan wouldn’t. Maybe he’d take a wrong turn when no-one is looking, but he wouldn’t crash. It’s a waste of a perfectly good minivan, and even more perfect extremely pricy liquor in the mini-fridge number three.

“Okay,” Rebekah says, face hidden by a massive map, on which she tracks their progress and the path they’re still to take with a black permanent marker. “There should be a motel a few miles down the road.”

Stefan frowns. “A roadside motel? Seriously? Aren’t you people, like, loaded?” It’s not a real question; he knows they are. It is fairly obvious.

In a moment, Rebekah’s in his face, veins climbing up her cheeks. “This is the first road-trip my family has undertaken since the seventeen hundreds, so you’d do well not to comment. This will be a perfect trip. And nothing will ruin it.”

He raises his hands in defence. Next to him, Kol roars with laughter. He’d been chewing on Lays Chips obnoxiously loudly the whole time; Stefan suspects it is also to annoy the hell out of him. Elijah sighs; it’s the long-suffering sigh of someone wiser and more reasonable, which Stefan thinks is rich considering he tried (and failed) to snap Klaus’s neck when he tried to steal one of the property of E. Mikaelson-labelled bottles from the mini-fridge number three. But Elijah is also the one who rolled up in an Armani suit to a road-trip. (“Werewolf hunt,” Klaus literally growled, eyes bleeding gold and double fangs dropping. “Family trip!” Rebekah returned, smiling in a way that let them all know she knew exactly what she was doing. “A way to drive a man to suicide is what it is,” Kol sighed. No-one paid any attention to him, except Caroline, who smacked him on the back of the head.) Worse yet, they’ve been driving for hours and the bastard doesn’t even look the least bit rumpled. How is that fair? Traitors who hand girlfriends over to be sacrificed on an altar of fire don’t deserve to look good after hours in a mini-van.

Stefan, meanwhile, actually looks the part of being on the road the whole day, and so does everyone else. That, at least, is consolation, pitiful though it is.

“Pull over, Nik, we’re here,” Rebekah orders.

“Here?” Klaus sounds extremely dubious. “You’re sure?”

“Mmhmm.”

Stefan understands his apprehension. The house rising above them looks like it walked straight out of a Scooby Doo episode, down to the eerie quasi-Victorian architecture, windows that creak in the wind, and the roof that looks like it’s a strong breeze from caving in.

“It’s very … vampire?” he offers lamely.

“Oh, no,” Caroline informs him primly. “Do you know what is very vampire? Wealth accumulated over several generations that goes into houses that don’t look like a Disney villain’s lair.”

“I can go on,” Klaus offers, looking at the motel—oh, look, there’s even a sign, MOTEL, in big glowing red letters, except the T and the L keep flickering so it looks like MO E more often than not.

“We will not!” Rebekah growls, stomping her foot on the ground. “I want a legitimate road-trip experience, Nik, you owe it to me for daggering me for twenty years!”

Klaus rolls his eyes, but he obediently parks into an empty spot. Not that it’s hard. They’re all empty.

Kol’s eye twitches. “I swear to God, Bekah, if the manager ends up being a serial killer—”

“You’re a vampire, you’ll just eat them!” she protests.

“I am a bit pickier than that when it comes to my meals!”

“Fine, then I’ll eat them!”

“Don’t steal my food; Rebekah!”

“You literally just said you didn’t want some crusty old serial killer!”

“How do you even know the manager’s gonna be a serial killer?”

“I don’t—you—arghhh!”

With Rebekah looking at the verge of ripping her own hair or maybe Kol’s liver out, Elijah intervenes. “Kol. Rebekah.” There is something about his voice that invites obedience. Probably the fact that he always looks like he is better than you and knows it. “That’s enough.”

“Kol started it.” Rebekah crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh, for God’s—” Klaus hisses. “That’s it—everyone, to the bloody motel. Stefan’s gonna be nice and carry our bags.”

“Am I being demoted to butler?” he asks, just to be contrary.

“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s a job for a footman, Stef,” Caroline says, tossing golden curls over her shoulder. She’d gotten into the habit of using that name for him, the name only Damon ever used, and he isn’t sure what to feel about it.

He’d always been Stefan to Father, said with flinty eyes and a cruel cut of his lips. Stefan to Mother, with her lost doe-like look and pale, white hands gentle on his shoulders. Stefan to Elena and Katherine, spoken in an identical voice yet infinitely different.

But Damon—to Damon, he has been Stef for as long as he can remember. He used to think Damon must’ve chosen it the moment Stefan was born, when he held his tiny squealing infant of a brother and decided to love him.

He spent seventeen years sure of his brother’s love, then a hundred and forty-five thinking he hated him. Now, he doesn’t even know which it is anymore. All that he knows that when the choice came between letting Damon die and handing himself over to Klaus, it was never really a choice to begin with.

He takes the luggage.

Thankfully, he’s not required to balance that with opening the creaking doors of the motel for them. Klaus handles that—or better said, he opens the door for Caroline, and she gives him an indulgent little smile. Then he enters too and slams it in Kol’s face, evoking a string of words in a language he doesn’t know, though they all sound distinctly filthy.

“Language, Kol,” Elijah says coolly, while Rebekah is too busy laughing at Kol’s predicament to make a comment.

He is suddenly very thankful to Giuseppe and Lilian for only giving him the one sibling, no matter how endlessly frustrating he’s proven to be.

By the time they are finally inside the dark and mouldy lobby, Caroline is unleashing the full force of her temper on the receptionist—a sleazy-looking man whose face doesn’t appear that old, but what little is left of his sparse, shoulder-long hair is more grey than black.

“She’s angry there are only two rooms available,” Klaus informs them with the dreamy sort of smile he gets whenever Caroline does anything.

“What do you mean, only two rooms?” And now Rebekah is by Caroline’s side, arguing just as passionately. The receptionist doesn’t seem deterred, which is really a testament to his nerve.

“They do know arguing won’t change anything, right?” Stefan questions, meeting each of the men’s eyes in turn.

“Oh, yes.” The gleam in Kol’s sends shivers down his spine.

[taylors-fourth-cat-meow]

Why do you like Tamlin despite everything he’s done? I feel like stans will take one look at people who still like that character and outright assume they’re an abuser apologist on sight lmao. So I wanted to know what you’re reasons for liking him are, perhaps to prove that his stans aren’t actually abuser apologists but people who just like a fictional character for perfectly good reasons.

And also because I’m curious. 🙃

Hi anon!!

Why I like Tamlin?....

Well, for starters, I fell for him in the first book. I mean who wouldn't? His character just seems so... Ethereal. The protagonist goes in the mystical land of the Fae and falls for their gorgeous king. I mean- u have to agree with me... Book 1 Tamlin>>> other sjm love interests.

He comes off as being kind and gentle and loving even after everything he has been through. He is struggling, evidently but that doesn't stop him from being what people need from him. Especially with Feyre. Oh how I love their chemistry in book 1. They understand each other and their pains. They have so much in common. And like- isn't Tamlin the dream bf every teenage girl wants? He's gorgeous, plays the fiddle, writes poem, takes you aesthetic dreamy places in his kingdom, says things like "don't feel bad for one moment about doing what brings you joy" AND THE MF LITERALLY HAS A CROWN OF SUNSHINE?!?

That being said, I loved Tamlin from the very start. So I obviously, didn't love how in acomaf sjm just went "PSYCHE!! Fck Tamlin u gotta love the sexual assaulter now cause I'm obsessed with his bat dick!!"

Like that just made me feel dumb for falling for Tamlin. And I resented that. Everything he did was so out of the blue, his character was up in flames and I was so mad at sjm for doing that to him. And goodness the narration was so whiney and annoying and self centred. It was so obvious that Tamlin was also struggling? That he also needed help. And attention and care. If Tamlin abuses feyre in way of neglect then I hate to break it to you it goes the other way round as well. The narrative that sjm and her stans spin is just so... Gross. Tamlin is the man so he shud suck it up and be there of his traumatized gf. But what about my man?! He struggling too. No one's there to help him! Feyre doesn't wake up in the night and talk to Tamlin when she sees him in his beast form? Then why is tamlin blamed for doing EXACTLY what Feyre is doing???

I absolutely hated that hypocrisy. That made me gravitate more towards Tamlin. The story and narrative itself blurred the line of morality. If Rhysie can be forgiven for SA then why can't Tamlin be forgiven for 2secs of abuse? If Feyre is the victim of Tamlins neglect then doesn't that imply the him too?

But the real reason why I love him is because he is the only character in the entire series that shows growth (positive growth i.e.) Book 2 Tamlin locks Feyre up (same like a certain someone did to her sister, so again line blurred.) and restricts her from making decisions about her own body i.e restricts her from training her powers. Which is reasonable but still, he should have explained the risks to her and then let her decide what she wanted to do. (This in my opinion is the only abuse he inflicted on her cause let's be honest, he said she couldn't go out to villages with him cause he would be distracted with her safety and that is very reasonable! He does not say anything about her going out with gaurds and u mfs be forgetting that a member of the royal family IS infact always under protection.)

BUT on the other hand, book 3 Tamlin, remedies all his mistakes. Feyre IS the queen of the spring court in those few chps of Acowar. She sits in on the meetings. She takes them to survey the wall the twice without tamlin being present there! Her therefore being the supreme authority. He trusts her! He's letting go of his paranoia and ptsd for her!! Like bitches homeboy actually changed himself for his girl like how can u not stan him 😭😭😭😭

AND after everything that bitch does to him Tamlin does everything in his power TO SEE HER HAPPY!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭

He risks his life to save her ungrateful ass in the hyburn camp.

Like "she deserves happiness even if it's not with me" vibes.

"Be happy, Feyre"

My man literally brings back the person who killed his family FOR HER!

I'm sorry but... Anyone who doesn't wear sjm manipulation glasses can see that Tamlin isn't evil. That he made mistakes. That people are not defined by their worst mistakes especially if they actually work hard and make up for them over and over again.

So yes, I think I speak for most tamlin stans when I say this... We don't love him because we hate Feyre, we don't love him cause we abuse apologists and misogynists. We love him for his complex character that sjm unintentionally created.

[regina-cordium]

trick....or treat...

First of all, the most important thing:

some candy to enjoy while reading.

This got a lot longer than it has any right to be. Whoops.

Spot wants it on the record that he was forced to be here.

Ever since returning to New York for his grad degree, Jack has been hell bent on him “getting the Boston out of his system,” or something dumb like that. Spot doesn’t get how a Halloween party in Jack and Charlie’s shoebox apartment counts towards that goal, but whatever. He’s mostly here because Charlie and Ma asked, and also Katherine pointed out it’d be hilarious to watch Jack trip over himself all night trying to impress Davey.

And the free booze. The free booze is vital.

So now he’s leaning up against the wall nursing a lukewarm beer and trying not to get crushed by what feels like the entirety of Manhattan crammed into such a small apartment. How the hell Jack even knows so many people, Spot will never know. What he does know is that he’s starting to get uncomfortable and hungry, and is probably five minutes away from snapping at someone for, like, existing.

“Three o’clock – Jack is about to eat shit,” a voice suddenly says from beside him. Spot does not jump, thank you very much, but he does lift his head in time to watch Jack trip over his own stupid cowboy hat; Davey is rushing forward to help Jack up, but is definitely also laughing at him.

“You always know what to get me,” Spot says, turning to Mack with a grin. She’s dressed as a baseball player, arms hooked around a bat she’s got across her shoulders. She’s also giving him an unimpressed lookover, rude.

“What are you even supposed to be?” she asks, brows raised.

“I’m a lumberjack.” Jack said he wouldn’t let Spot through the door if he wasn’t wearing a costume, so Spot just threw on the closest he could get to the Bounty paper towel dude.

“You wore that exact outfit to Stray’s birthday two weeks ago,” Mack points out, still deeply unimpressed.

Spot opens his mouth to make a sarcastic comment, but he’s drowned out by the sound of cheers and Jack going, “There he fucking is!”

He and Mack both look over to where Jack’s got his arms around someone Spot thinks he recognizes. The guy is wearing a red leather jacket covered in patches, black leather pants, sunglasses that look like they’re shaped like flames, and has red and yellow hair. There’s something written on his face, but he’s swallowed by a group hug before Spot can make it out.

“Who the fuck is that?” he asks.

“Hard to tell, but I think that was Dominic.”

Spot frowns. “Why do I know that name?”

“He’s been attached to Lucky’s hip since undergrad,” Mack explains, swinging her bat down to lean on. “They’re in the same math program or whatever. I think he was Jack’s roommate too? I dunno.”

“I thought he was blond?”

Mack raises an eyebrow, which Spot ignores. “It’s Halloween, dude. He probably dyed his hair. If you’re so curious, why don’t you go talk to him instead of haunting the corner.”

“I’m not haunting –” He breaks off as Mack plants a hand between his shoulder blades and shoves him, hurling him into someone. Spot turns to flip her off; Mack just blows him a kiss, because she’s an asshole.

“You good?” a voice asks.

Spot turns back to the person he knocked into, intending to apologize, but he stops when he realizes the person is Dominic. Spot sends another dirty look over his shoulder at Mack, but she’s gone.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry ‘bout that, my friend is a dick.”

Up close, Spot can see that Dominic has the number 9 on one cheek and 5 on the other, his glasses are, in fact, shaped like flames, and his blond roots are obvious under the red.

Dominic, for his part, looks extremely amused. “Hey, you’re Jack’s brother, right?”

“Spot,” he introduces, holding out a hand.

“Nice to meet’cha. I’m Dominic, but everyone calls me Racetrack.”

Spot is not distracted by his brother’s old roommate’s hands, because that would be weird and also fucking cliche.

Pulling himself together, because only one Larkin kid gets to be a disaster about hot boys and Jack has that shit on lockdown, Spot says, “Weird fucking nickname.”

Instead of being offended, like most people are when Spot speaks, Racetrack just throws his head back and laughs (Spot is not distracted by the long column of his throat.) “What, weirder than Spot?” he asks.

Spot can’t exactly argue with that, so he quickly changes track. “What’re you supposed to be, anyway? Ain’t you hot in all that leather?”

“I’m hot out of the leather, too,” Racetrack says with a smirk, causing Spot to choke on the sip of beer he’d just taken. Racetrack laughs again as he unhelpfully pats Spot on the back. “I think you’re supposed to drink that, not inhale it.”

“Fuck you,” Spot wheezes.

Racetrack seems to finally take pity, because he finally answers Spot’s question. “I’m Lightning McQueen!”

Spot stares at him for a moment. Racetrack grins back.

“Like. From that Disney movie?” Spot finally asks.

“First of all, it’s a Pixar movie, and don’t let Jack hear you get the two confused,” Racetrack corrects. “Second, yes.”

“What the fuck?”

“Dude, my name’s Racetrack. I had to.”

“You absolutely didn’t.”

Racetrack sighs dramatically (Spot gets the feeling he does everything dramatically).

“You sound like Albert,” he pouts and goddamn it, Spot can’t even pretend he doesn’t find it absolutely adorable. Fucker.

“I’d be offended by the comparison,” Spot says, thinking about all the dumb shit Albert got up to in high school, “but for once in my life, I agree with him.”

“Well, you’re not even wearing a costume, so I win by default.”

Spot can’t help but snort. “That’s not how that works, first of all. Second, I am. I’m a lumberjack.”

“You look like you belong at some hipster bar that’s got overpriced drinks and too much wood paneling.”

“Okay, now I’m offended,” Spot says, but there’s a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. Racetrack seems to notice it, because his own grows.

“You wanna get something to eat?” Racetrack asks suddenly. Spot’s glad he’s finished his beer, because we would’ve definitely choked again.

Instead, he raises an eyebrow and says, “You mean ditch my brother’s party to hang out with someone I don’t even know?”

Racetrack rolls his eyes. “You’re not even enjoying yourself.”

“Fuck off, maybe I’m having the goddamn time of my life,” Spot argues, just to argue.

“You’re not.” It’s so matter of fact that Spot is taken aback. “‘Sides, Jack never gets enough food for these things and you were here before me, so if I’m hungry then you are too.”

Spot had actually forgotten he was even hungry, but now that it’s been brought up he’s suddenly fucking starving.

“Fine,” he finally relents, unable to stop his smile when Racetrack pumps his fists. “But only because I’m fucking starving. You just happened to be the first person to say anything.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Spotty!” Racetrack laughs as he leads them through the crowd. “You up for Chinese?”

[vampirologist]

wait i want to hear your new and improved version of angel (show)

well right off the fucking bat is the fact I would have kept this scene in

literally feel that would have been so great. it is fucked up and that’s why I feel it’d be so good to include it. he’s struggling with his journey and he fed from buffy a few months ago. he’s got that bloodlust. and the fact that when he meets doyle, doyle mentions to him that he needs to become more personal with who he helps otherwise he could slip and feed from them would be more resonant if that actually happened at the end of the episode. let angel be fucked up and have bumps on his path to redemption. he’s allegorical of a recovering alcoholic- have him relapse because that happens. and then it makes it more meaningful as we see him work through it in the show.

I would also let angel be explicitly bi. he already gets to be the butt of the joke with his sexuality and masculinity brought into question. he’s even made gay jokes himself. let him be attracted to men openly. we KNOW he and spike have fucked let’s get more on that and jokes about it. let him be flirty with men. I know he’s repression guy but in my vision he can be repressed and openly bi. maybe some homoerotism with doyle (not too much tho as he needs to be into cordy to transfer the visions to her)….. similarly lorne is obviously so gay coded but I want him to be more explicitly gay too <3 so it’s a no brainer I would like the show to have our LGBT characters

just better writing towards the female characters and related plot lines. like fear of pregnancy is an issue (such as expecting where the men deceive the women and they get pregnant with demon babies) but it needs to be dealt with more care. it feels a lot like cordy is our only main female character so let’s repeatedly knock her up with demons as a vehicle for issues regarding pregnancy. and it’s yucky

branching from above, more non-white characters! I’m white but like it’s pretty obvious the buffyverse has issues when it comes to race and gunn was finally a main cast member of color. I wish there was more on him and his old gang. they’re only brought up a few times following gunn joining the team and there’s an obvious rift with not only gunn aligning himself with a vampire, but these are all white people he’s joining. issues regarding gunn and race are kind of present in s5 with him becoming a super lawyer- it’s his time where he’s not the angry black man of the streets used as the muscle but instead an educated and respected black man. that’s why he’s so afraid about losing his lawyer knowledge. but it is also assimilation. so yeah better convos on race both with actual characters of color and the allegories through the demons (like in AYNOHYEB where angel is clearly paralleled with the biracial woman, I get what they were going for and again I am not biracial, but it still felt off)

these above points were ideas I already had in mind mostly lol below are ones I thought of when prompted

more cordy fighting! badass fighting cordy…. though I don’t hate it as much as others (I’m just like whatever. in terms of it narratively but the circumstances leading to it and the misogyny inflicted onto cc and her character- I’m very critical of that) I would still do away with the s4 plot line of her being the incubator for jasmine. idk how to do that plot differently it’s 4 am rn but disregard it. don’t have cordelia fuck connor and get pregnant. I know the issue at hand here is cc’s pregnancy which I feel could be played about differently but I can’t think right now. because like they could have cordelia actually being pregnant (groo?) but then idk how to incorporate another baby into the storyline. because angel could still have the angst with connor independent of that storyline, and those lead to him killing connor and then accepting the wr&h offer. I didn’t mind the jasmine story apart from the issue with cordy. maybe cordy can have some type of injury or affliction that leaves her bedridden and she’s helping from the sidelines? because she does do that to an extent already lol but it doesn’t force a pregnancy and possession narrative onto cordelia. perhaps I could think deeper on this

WAIT I’d also have more crossovers with buffy characters. buffy and dawn and anya and xander and giles and willow and tara. I need them to meet the angel team. also in an ideal world maybe whisk spike from buffy and have him join angel sooner