#‘why do u care so much about this guy he is the comic relief’

[comradekatara]

i think the reason that a lot of people don’t recognize how fucked up sokka is is due to the fact that sokka himself refuses to acknowledge it. he is extremely repressed and operating on so many layers of cognitive dissonance that he doesn’t even realize that he is not in fact “normal” or “mentally stable” or “healthy.” part of sokka being extremely fucked up is also refusing to acknowledge or confront that he is remotely fucked up. so he generally presents like a well-functioning person who, despite being incredibly cerebral, doesn’t have a particularly rich inner life. but that’s only because he’s walled off every single aspect of his existence that causes him (real) pain or sadness or grief, put it in a vault and then buried it. and confronting any of it, even a little bit (like admitting that he felt abandoned by his father leaving, or that he misses his mother, or any other normal expression of pain that katara has no problem communicating) would mean confronting all the harmful logic he has internalized regarding his identity and denial of his own inherent humanity. so even though he seems like he has no filter and loves to complain, he is actually performing pretty much constantly. for the sake of those to whom he feels obligated, but mostly for himself.

#he and nanami kiryuu need to unionize #and then withhold their labor (their job of course being. getting hit over the head with god’s mallet) #sokka #analysis #anyway i felt like expanding on this point per my last post #and also due to a discussion i had the other day #with someone who claimed i was ‘unfairly implying that sokka is mentally ill’ 😭😭😭 #i do think understanding this though is the key between sokka enthusiasts (‘hehe funny little guy’) and Sokka Scholars(TM) #‘why do u care so much about this guy he is the comic relief’ #because if i don’t. who will!!!!!!!!!!! #no but because he is genuinely fucking INTERESTING okay #he is a COMPELLING character who is FUN to ANALYZE #[mai voice] you cannot fathom the depths of SOKKA.

[gildeddlily]

we stan adam (paul bby what are you doing)[about to make this a series]

again with this. about to die because of them (chuuya looks so young in every Stormbringer art I'm crying)

(1. We Stan The Flags)

2. We stan Adam (Paul bby what are you doing)

he comes out of nowhere and pull out this (they were about to kill him and he was like "oh wow you're kinda mean I expected a better welcome")

ADAM STOP the first time I read stormbringer I fell in love with him right here. like the first thing he said I already was head over heels for this beautiful robot (people who don't like Adam scares me. he's so precious. the perfect assistant, fighter and comic relief)

chuuya's so hilarious- he's about to become one of the strongest character of the bsd universe and an european guy he doesn't know crash his mafia birthday party and ignores the attacks of some of the strongest people he knows, and then said guy proceeds to say that he's here to protect chuuya and kneels before him? (I'm already hearing chuuya's voice actor. it's a dream but let me indulge myself)

(me talking to my sister cause I'm a dumbass) yes I already said that, the flags' bond and interactions are so familiar it's making me cry. Albatross is the classic dumb cousin or little brother that deep down is smarter than you but incapable of doing basic things, and Lippmann the successful third-grade-cousin everybody hates cause he gave them inferiority complex (Iceman neutral chaotic forever)

Chuuya's the king of emotional constipation, and they love seeing him express his feelings (they've welcome him in their group and dynamic, and truly cherish him and wish the best for him. they're so honest it hurts) (everybody ab this thing hurts) (I just know that at least once they gang up against him and started showering him with compliments and he almost cried and they were flabbergasted)

HELLO WHAT IS THIS Doc is literally so me guys (yk the voice) wish I was Chuuya rn (not really considering what's about to happen) (but still)

yeah cause Chuuya near him is like a cat hissing at a horse. I can understand Adam for holding him like and Amazon pack, not for saying to a teenage boy's face that he was short but for the rest ofc (he has his programs and he knows what to do but not really and it's so cute) (Chuuya after a year still wishing for his so wished growth spurt is sad) (but I just know that he doesn't care about it, at least not really. he could still smash someone's face with his pinky finger)

Yes Adam it was (I wish for our society to be ruled by robots too) (imagine Adam being your prime minister. maybe someone explains to him social clues) (Chuuya's so confused) (random robot guy tells him jokes and that some overpowered guy wants to kill him)

...Paul fuck is this the way to tell someone you're their "brother" ? A little of decency please (Chuuya's about to suffer so much I can't continue) (I will) Adam's scream was a little terrifying the first time I read it, the "That man is Paul Verlaine!" shout made me shiver and still does. Still love them

The sad thing about this first interaction, is that Verlaine is honestly sad "like the sea at night", and honestly wants Chuuya to believe him, he truly thinks of themselves as anything but humans. He doesn't do it out of malice (one of the reason he's still alive down those fucking dungeons I know it) and it all makes hating on him hard. If you're able to hate characters like verlaine I envy you

It is a call for help, and his personal way of saying "Hey, I've never felt understood by anyone cause I'm not human and I don't feel as one, wanna come with me and be two non-humans together?", but it came out a little bit more like "Let's be non-humans together, but anyone who ever tried to tell u you were human should die, so everyone you love rn. Hope you don't hate me, kiss kiss"

here is why I didn't want to read it. he is ready to listen to Verlaine. Chuuya doesn't think of himself as truly human, so he wants to listen to him, but his first thought is about the Flags, and sometimes I wonder what would have happened if the french guy didn't kill his friends. got to thin ab it now

yes, darling, there's a difference between love and control. I'm sorry no one ever explained it to you, you boyfriend didn't have the possibility to. and like always Asagiri's able to portrait questions like this in his stories, cause it's a difference not everyone understand. or that not everyone cares about. Verlaine probably didn't really care, desperate how he was about having someone to understand him

this makes me hate every panel where Chuuya uses Corruption (hate on Mori, don't hate on Dazai he was the only one to ever give him a choice. well, it was at least a choice from Dazai's point of view. he was like "do what you want, I don't really care if the Mafia fall! just follow your heart<3" but ofc Chuuya would have never let dazai and the Mafia fall. as if. it's still sweet. now cry with me)

He should leave himself suffer and feel. he's not going to. he should. able to dream or not, he will have from hallucinations when drunk or high or whatever situation he's in and see their mauled bodies. he will always remember the room he spent beautiful moments with his family in as covered with the blood of said family.

this is basically self harm bby, stop it. he wants someone to confirm the truth, and is so horrible to himself to ask this to an android (what's thaaaaaaaat) who is unable to say something like "It wasn't your fault, he was to one to kill them. he's more powerful than you, you and your friends couldn't have done anything. he wanted you to give up on your life for someone you met from not even ten minutes. he had already killed them", the truth. he can only analyze the situation without any emotions.

little thing from the first scene at the bar, albatross making period jokes to his bro (he's about to die in his "bro" arms. he's about to gift him his bike as his last words. but he made a period joke)

(first chapter done and I'm done with myself) (and this light novel) (it's everything but light)

#stormbringer #bsd light novel #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya nakahara #the flags #bsd storm bringer #bsd #bungou stray dogs #random thoughts #shut up #love tumblr tags #soukoku #paul verlaine

[bonerot19]

what are your thoughts on Jason and Roy? I have very complicated thoughts about them because on one hand they’re made out to be good friends so often I can’t be ok with them being strangers it makes me sad :( on the other hand they aren’t good friends not really no them because RHATO destroyed Roy :( so they’re in a weird space of “met this guy two weeks ago would’ve died for him for three days and now we don’t really talk” tragic friendship kinda vibe in my brain. I guess that’s even sadder??? But at least the love was there? Sorry for randomly showing up in your ask box 😭 I’m just curious

I have So Many thoughts on Roy and Jason.

I've been learning a lot more about Roy lately, his history and character and he's so cool so it makes me sad what's happened to him in canon (the account royboyfanpage is a wealth of Roy info I love following them)

my problem is that RHATO could have been cool. they could have made Kory, like, important and sentient. they could have just not reduced Roy to the stupid comic relief guy. they could have kept Jason's backstory instead of rewriting one of my favorite origin stories (stealing the batmobile's tires fucks so hard I can't believe Lobdell thought making him steal from Leslie was better??)

I think Jason and Roy have the potential to have a fun, interesting relationship — little brother stealing his older brother's best friends is hilarious. and I know some people (rightfully) have issues with Roy being aged-down to be closer to Jason's age but I think they still have the potential for hilarity at their relative canon ages.

I like fics that portray Jason and Roy as chaotic, and I do often like Jason/Roy fics because I think the dynamic can be really well written — especially in AUs. I like Jason and Roy bitching about Oliver and Bruce (even though Ollie is like, leagues better than Bruce in canon and loves Roy So Much)

I think what I've learned is that while I enjoy Jason/Roy I really understand why Roy lovers hate Jason because when Jason is in Roy's story it does necessitate some level of character assassination. either by changing Roy's age, changing his relationship with Oliver, changing his relationship with Dick, changing his character in general via Lobdell's bullshit (if I catch u Scott I stg)

which sucks, because I think there are people out there writing really complex Jason/Roy relationships that challenge both characters and complete some great character analysis. you just have to be careful and aware of the way Roy is portrayed to not shape his character to suit Jason, cause that sucks

in the end, I'll still read Jason/Roy, because I like it. sometimes I dislike it in the same way I dislike other characterizations of other batfam and batfam adjacent characters. but I'm taking my time learning about Roy and I'm adding some Green Arrow comics to my tbr (which is 10 miles long) cause if I'm gonna write about Roy I want to understand him

#I meant it when I said a lot of thoughts lol #I-just-want-to-see #ask

[saintzenni]

L, U, and V (the way that spells luv lmfao)

L - say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves.

jonathan archer is really such a funny guy. like he’s got jokes. also he’s very dedicated and loyal and frankly caring. he’s such a dad complete with dad jokes and i love that. he loves his crew!! it’s just he probably should’ve listened to t’pol more often lol

U - three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

enterprise: hmm probably trip. he had the most complete character arc during the show, so he feels really real, you know? he wears his heart on his sleeve; he’s funny. i think i just usually love comic relief characters lol, but i love trip in particular bc the show gives him a chance to be much more than that.

desmond’s: no question, lee. i love a traumatized character who chooses to be kind. i love when characters are still figuring their lives out. lee can be a prick, as can we all, but he’s genuine, empathetic, and loyal when it really counts. i think outside of desmond and shirley he got to be the most complex character on the show and i will always love a complex character.

ds9: fucking love garak. i’m not usually the kind of person who likes a villain or villain-adjacent character, but they wrote garak BRILLIANTLY. he’s an enigma. he’s done horrible, horrible things but still has a conscience. he hates what he’s done, deep down, i think. he’s also a fool. also the way he has such a specific, noticeably unique cadence that distinguishes him from the other characters is insane. he’s a testament to the ds9 writers’ abilities.

V - which character do you relate to most?

lee from desmond’s. i also actively try to be kind despite the circumstances and i relate to his general disposition as someone who’s loud & can sometimes be obnoxious!! he’s friendly, and that’s something i hope i am, too. i think i want to have his determination to get on despite the circumstances and stay focussed on the present; maybe i don’t so much see myself in that right now as it’s something that i’m actively working towards. i also see myself in how empathetic he is i think

malcolm from ent is a close second i think, cause i’m very standoffish deep down, no matter how friendly i act. i’m very afraid to let anyone get too close to me lest i get hurt and i see that in malcolm as well.

that was a depressing note to end on so thanks so much for asking!! i’m always excited to scream into the void of the internet lol

#ask zennie #ask game

[scarlettaagni]

I just have a lot of thoughts about what Psyphon (Vilgax’s assistant) from Ben 10 could have been, if taken seriously. In UAF he’s serious but barely paid attention to and even without Vilgax is elaborated upon very little, OV he has more attention but is comic relief. I just wanna picture what could have been maybe, if he were in line with the original series tone

since Psyphon’s species is unknown, never elaborated upon, and he’s the only member we see, I like to think he had a terrible life on his planet, so Vilgax destroying it basically freed him so he threw himself at Vilgax’s feet and felt personally indebted to him after proving himself useful with whatever abilities he has. He idolizes this guy because, in his eyes, Vilgax just freed him from a shitty life on his shitty planet and now he has nice clothes, technology, minions of their own, and weapons, and how dare anyone not see how glorious and fearsome his savior is?

picturing him just drifting away from his work he was always forced to do to watch, as if with mild curiosity surprised, the destruction around him, then maybe a smile. Someone who treated him like shit fighting off a drone and yelling at Psyphon to help, he instead shoots them; Psyphon being the one guy to actually do what Vilgax says at the epicenter of the invasion without hesitation when he orders shit like “kneel”

Psyphon’s there when Vilgax destroys Petropia in front of Tetrax, and his response to Tetrax’s devastation is like “Why are you upset, surely it was obvious he would use that crystal on your world as a display of strength? Did you even like that place? Aren’t you happy to be free like me?” and general Psyphon interpreting situations like that as ungratefulness (I imagine that would make specifically Tetrax spiral a bit bc. all he did was cause a lot of trouble on Petropia. He acted like a loner, now he is a loner.)

Vilgax isn’t even exceptionally nice to Psyphon, it’s your typical evil boss and evil lackey relationship, but it’s legit better than his deal on his own planet, he treats him as a higher-up, like a general. or general assistant. A professional employee-boss relationship if they committed war crimes together.

The dramatic/sinister threats of destruction or being thrown out of airlocks from Vilgax when Psyphon fails is fine to him because he knows Vilgax is right to expect better of him. I think he’s just grateful, thankful. He was saved and becoming his minion is the least he can do, or that he feels he owes him for such a favor/honor. Especially with how much forgiveness his master shows him, allowing multiple screw-ups because Psyphon is just that valuable to him.

Maybe it’s out of a duty so he can show everyone what good Vilgax can do, but I don’t imagine him like those Tick Worshippers, singing praises, or being such a suck-up that he’s constantly complimenting him or anything. I picture he’s a snippy managerial type, this is just his recruitment backstory, not his entire personality in the day-to-day. He doesn’t need to sing it, is just content to work for him, snaps at others to show respect when they’re slacking on it though.

misc. thoughts:

just as an aside, as a pun on scylax (Greek for puppy) I decided just now that maybe Psylax was his nickname or original name before becoming known as Psyphon. because he used to be everyone’s bitch, work dog, etc, you feel?

I like to imagine that since Psyphon and that lackey drone (may be multiple interchangeable drones, not a reoccurring individual) who is always by Vilgax in the OS are both voiced by Dee, that Psyphon has actually been there the whole time just in drone-shaped armor (they even both have head protrusions. just shift it down and there u go)

maybe Psyphon voluntarily disguised himself so he wouldn’t cramp Vilgax’s “all organic life fears him” reputation. Vilgax didn’t ask him to, because do you think Cthulhu-Face would care? Psyphon just assumed

Just for funsies, maybe he’s related to Fixit from Teen Titans 2003. He was quite alien underneath the cloak. They could be literally related or just the same species?

#nerd stuff #ben 10 #psyphon

[automatonkisser]

Borehole, sour grouse and death & taxes :^]

Borehole: What's a fact about your F/O that you feel like nobody knows or cares about but you? Talk about it!

ok this is a funny one because...apart from me and u and maybe like 2 other people i know i don't think anyone really ever talks about them, like AT ALL. we are lone soldiers.......anyway before i start going on tangents because i would like people to know every fact there is about them, i'm just going to drop this little sketch of his original design from the extra pages of the comic that i don't think i have ever mentioned/shown but that i think is very cute?? :]

i can see why they dropped it but i think the cape is kind of neat....it also makes me think of him studying the other heroes' costumes and going back and forth on whether or not he's a Cape Guy. also it's very funny to me whenever they're drawn very muscular because even thought hey technically could be, he's just...not. fhjkfhf

Sour Grouse: Is there something about the way your F/O is treated or characterized in their source that bothers you? Rant about it!

OOUGDDH OH U KNOW THERE IS. honestly i will TRY to keep this short but u've just activated my trap card basically. or maybe not really because i guess no one is forced to read this so it's just going to me be going on a rant all by myself but WHO CARES. okay.

anyway, as far as the main series (as in, minus the spin-offs because oh my god these are a whole other can of worms i may or may not dig into later) goes, i am very very disappointed that he essentially just got demoted to occasionally appearing as a comic relief side character when he had SO much potential to be much more than that. i know i'm about 500% more insane about them than the regular person and i'm not expecting them to be the main focus obviously, but there were so many missed opportunities and so many things that just...felt incomplete to me, as if kirkman didn't know how to write them anymore, or probably just didn't care enough. LIKE, it is very clear from the start that shapesmith felt a lot of guilt and regret over what he did to the original livingston, and second-guessed his own choices heavily. he seemed to have gotten over this after he managed to help bring livingston back, but it's addressed once again when it turns out that all they managed to do was give the sequids a ride to earth and that they were still possessing livingston (and like, a whole lot of other people)....but when invincible brutally kills livingston, an act that everyone thinks is shocking and unexpected and unwarranted because that man was essentially an innocent civilian who had no control over his actions, we don't even get a GLIMPSE of shapesmith's reaction. absolutely nothing at all. and i know this was about kicking off mark's No Mercy Arc and all that so i'm not expecting them to delve into shapesmith's internal turmoil, but i can't overlook it because they gave us just. NOTHING. he's not even shown to be reacting to livingston's death in the background of a panel or anything. we do not see this affecting them AT ALL. not even one line or panel is dedicated to it which is just insane to me.

like, there are a looooottt of other things i would have loved to know about them or see them being included in, but i can understand why they weren't and why kirkman instead focused on something else. but not including him in THIS scene, not giving him some kind of actual relevance in the conclusion of this arc......not taking at least a little bit of time to explore his feelings is something that i can't understand and that i'd probably criticize even if i was. y'know. more normal about him

and especially with kirkman seemingly dedicating a lot of time and care to set up his character and arc and declaring him his New Favorite Character an all that it just...makes me so sad because he really seems like kirkman's throwaway toy in some way. like, i really do blame the fact that he's been sidelined so heavily on kirkman ultimately not giving a shit anymore....like this little tidbit about shapesmith's new costume too???

i don't know. like i said, it just makes me so sad to see this sort of progression.

ALSO DO NOOOT get me started on the spin-offs (<- is actually getting started all by himself with no one else asking for this). i can't even get into it too much because i think i would start hitting and smashing things but they dumbed him down and infantilized him sooo much while also weirdly sexualizing him in some ways that just feel incredibly uncomfortable. like it's not just him because these comics are just super fucking horny in a really gross way but still. oh my god. there are SOME scenes that are actually pretty cute and sillay and i like that they made him a gamer but overall??? that's a big no from me and i don't think these people should be allowed to write him ever again. do not touch him ✋

OKAY WELL. thank u for letting me get this out of my system . moving on!!!!

Death and Taxes: Describe the moment when you became absolutely certain that you were going to F/O this character.

this is so silly but.....i remember the moment EXACTLY because it was so mundane hahah ;;; i was really badly in denial about my feelings for them for a long time, and even though i found myself thinking about them very very frequently i didn't want to have feelings for them (mainly because getting very attached to a new f/o can be kind of emotionally intense for me) so i just. kept brushing it off hfjff ANYWAY i very clearly remember being in the car, hanging out in the passenger seat when this song comes on the radio and my mind IMMEDIATELY goes to them. and for some reason that was the moment i Surrendered because i realized thinking about them makes me really happy, they make me really happy and it's probably time i admit that to myself. and that was a very good choice <3

#okay if u actually read all that i'm giving u a kiss and a hug #writing this down was therapeutic tho thank u for this #<3 #anyway i love them so much. kissing him kissing him kissing h #r: shapesmith 👽 #letters 💌

[lesbianrobin]

Helloooooo, i just finished the witcher and i know you watched and want to ask you: what are you favorite characters and dynamics and what do you want from the next season???

hiiiiii so i will admit i havent actually. watched s2 yet. i'm waiting until i go back to school bc i watched s1 while studying (i would do some work and then reward myself with an episode kdcjdjd) and i enjoyed doing that so. that is why i am waiting. but i have seen a lot of gifs from s2 and been spoiled on a lot of stuff, so i'm REALLY excited to see the relationship between yennefer and jaskier develop!! i'm also really into geralt and ciri's relationship, it seems really sweet from what i've seen so far and i'm always such a sucker for adoptive parent/child relationships in media.

my favorite character in s1 was jaskier because i'm gay and predictable and after him was yennefer but like. i had Such a love/hate relationship with her dkcjdjcj which is partially just because she's a complex character yknow? she isn't always likable even if she is sympathetic but i think my initial difficulty with her also had to do with the way the show structured s1. whenever there are multiple storylines going on and the show cuts away from something interesting to go to something else, i tend to get kind of annoyed with the new thing if i don't find it as interesting, and i was usually more invested in ciri/geralt than i was yennefer's backstory. after i watched the full season and some time passed i appreciated her a lot more and now she's one of my favorites.

of course i love geralt and ciri as well, don't get me wrong. i care about them both deeply. i just kinda connect more with the sorta... nontraditional heroes?? geralt and ciri are complex and interesting and lovable, but i feel like i can point to a lot of other characters in various shows/movies/books/etc who are rather similar to the both of them. there's a lot of "gruff action man adopting powerful/traumatized/important young girl" content out there. and it slaps every time! but it's pretty familiar by this point. yennefer's journey is honestly unlike any other protagonist's that i can think of off the top of my head, and her capacity for extreme changes in personality and circumstance while remaining recognizable is really cool. she's a fun character And she makes me think a lot about the nature of power which is awesome.

idk how to really articulate just how special i think the character of jaskier is like i know he's primarily just comic relief within the show but he's just like. so refreshing. like it's So nice that within this narrative full of people with unimaginable power and grand destinies there's just this fruity buff guy who wants to sing and make his mark on the world who voluntarily chooses to get involved because he saw a scary hot dude in a bar once and decided they would be ride or die for each other regardless of what the scary hot dude wanted. AND he's a dramatic little bitch who rubs chamomile on his bestie's ass. i love him So much. what i want most from season 3 is for him to wear the gay little jackets with the puffed sleeves again because from what i've seen in s2 he kinda butched it up which. yes he looks hot and i love that for him and personally i like his hair way more now than in s1 and i like that the new look makes it harder for fandom weirdos to twinkify him. BUT i still miss the puffed sleeves.

anyway sorry if this isn't what u were expecting dkcjdjf thank u for asking!!!

#asks #the witcher

[chasseuses]

reasons why i love jade leech pt.2

so i guess I'm doing this again.

this is more of a repeat of everything I said in part one but with more sobbing and coherent words.

Jade Leech, Octavinelle's vice dorm leader and the twin brother of Floyd. Many might say that Jade is better than Floyd, although that may seem true to people who don't know him well enough, some people were smart enough to know that Jade was just as bad.

Despite being so fucking shady and nasty, I couldn't help but slowly learn how to love his character. His shadiness is only a part of his charm ❤️ I mean— don't you want that? Don't you just want to look at him and wonder what the fuck is going through his mind right now?

He could be either plotting murder or thinking about tonight's dinner and I would still find his shady expression 🥺 oddly attractive to say the least. I'm being weirdly serious here and typing in lowercase so in a few bullets, expect me to go feral once again.

His eyes are gorgeous. I don't know about you but I get mesmerized everytime I look at them, I swear I could drown in them and never want air ever again. His mismatched eyes,, absolutely beautiful sir please shock my heart eheheh 👉👈 haha jk !!! he doesn't have to use his unique magic to shock my heart bfjfkfjfkfjkffk

His smile is breathtaking, my sun— my light in this dark world of mine. Even if his smile is practiced and insincere, I can't help but go crazy over it. Imagine if he smiled genuinely, no restraints at all as he let out a hearty laugh and a genuine smile took over his expression. I would cry on the spot, I am cryimyfjrkfjkffk.

GOF HELP ME I CAN'T TYPE IN LOWERCASE ANYMORE IM GOING IN CAPSLOCK!!!

I HATE HOW JADE CAN GO FROM HIS USUAL GENTLEMANLY FACE EXPRESSION BUT SUDDENLY SHOOTS YOU A FUCKING SMUG GRIN WHICH SHOWS OFF HIS SHARP TEETH AND SAYS HIS USUAL "Fufu~" LINE LIKE PLEASE 🗿 SHUT THE FUCK UP DON'T SMILE LIKE THAT!!

SPEAKING OF TEETH, MAN I REALLY AM CURIOUS AS TO HOW SHARP THEY ARE. A PART OF ME WANTS TO SHOVE MY HAND INTO HIS MOUTH AND JUST TOUCH THOSE TEETH AND SEE HOW SHARP THEY ARE 🤡 haha imagine if he suddenly bit down tho hahshhhshsdrijfrknfkrgntknffknflfnflffnkfnfkjfkdjfofjddlifjf ok I'll shut up.

I don't think I mentioned it here (i already did) but I am telling you that the idea of someone as composed and reserved as Jade starts pining, IT'S GUARANTEED TO BE SO FUCKING GOOD LIKE 🗿 OH GOD THE THOUGHT OF JADE PINING?? ABSOLUTELY *CHEFS KISS* MAN THAT IS SOME GOOD SHIT RIGHT THERE IF YOU SEE ANY PINING JADE PLEASE TAG ME I WILL START CRYIMG

Oh my god. Have I told you how beautiful Jade's lips are? Please please please please look at them they look so nice ahahahha so irresistible and kissable UEEEEEEEEEE

The way his lips are like that 🗿his fucking smile/smirk. GOD GIEV EME THE ABILITY TO KITH THIS MAN JUST ONCE PLEASE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I'M FUCKING CRYING.

Oh my gOD THE WAY HE LOOKS AT MUSHROOMS... THE SOFTEST GAZE... SOMEONE LIKE HE... IS CAPABLE OF HAVING SUCH A SOFT EXPRESSION ON HIS FACE.... PLEASE I WANT TO BE A MUSHROOM IF IT MEANT BEING LOOKED AT BY JADE LIKE THAT.

HE COULD FUCKING SPIT ON ME AND I'D THANK HIM.

I'm ashamed to admit that the earliest reason why I liked Jade Leech was because of his hands. Please forgive me, Lilia-sama. I cannot help but get attracted to such beautiful hands- it was if it was sculpted by the god of sculpting himself! It's such a shame that his gloves cover up its blinding beauty- though my eyes can see through the deceit, I know that his fingers are glorious beneath that piece of cloth. My one and only wish in life is to be able to hold his hand- without the gloves, and that's all for my confession.

^^^^^ I FOUND THAT IN MY DRAFTS

I'M SORRY BUT I JUST REALLY LIKE HIS HANDS OK. LIKE 😳 haha...!! what if we held hands,, without the gloves 😳 haha jk...! unless ...?9£4(_8 UE UE UE UE UE MR. LEECH LET ME HOLD YOUR HAND PLEASE I'M GONNA BEG

UEEEEEEEE I'M NOT FUCKING KIDDING YOU WHEN I SAY I WROTE SO MUCH LETTERS FOR THIS EEL I WISH I WAS KIDDING I HAVE LIKE 12 RIGHT NOW GOD I'M SUCH A FUCKING SIMP

st a rts sobbing

pouting jade.

pouting jade.

pouting jade.

WHAT THE FUCKBSJDJDJJ??£?£(_(3(_((_(£(£+£; WHY IS HE SO CUTE INT HSI SCREENSHOT WHAT THE FUCK I LOVE YOU SO MUCH PLEASE THE WAY YOU'RE POUTING RIGHT NOW IS SO CUTE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET ME SQUEEZE YOU.

I'm fucking crying why the fuck is he so cute gof forbid this man from being so fuvking cute i cannot.

People be telling me: cute?? jade is terrifying.

and I go like: that's cute.

UE UE UE EU UEHFHRJFJJDJF HAVE U GUYS HEARD OF WHAT HE DOES TO PEOPLE HE BETRAY HIM???? I LITERALLY WENT 😳 "ahahahh mr leech i will personally betray you just to make you do that to me" you know. like a simp.

U know what I'm going back to lowercase

His extreme love for mushrooms is probably his comic relief so it doesn't completely make him seem like a shady bitch in the game- it's a surprise as to how cute and vulnerable he can get when he talks about or does something related to his precious fungi. It even goes as far as to make him completely lose his sense of surroundings, which is really rare for someone as observant as him- and usually dangerous sjfbjdbf. It's also EXTREMELY CUTE as to how they made Jade someone who really likes mountains- he even goes as far as to found his own club to appreciate them!!

He has pretty deft hands, being able to create a terrarium and care for it as a hobby is applaudable- not everyone has the ability to do just that, you'd have to be able to be extremely precise and careful, and add a little bit of extreme determination to the mix. He would probably smell like mud from all the time he spends in the greenhouse, and stays up late because of creating terrariums. It shows us that he isn't completely a shitty eel who collects dirt on people as his job and I think that's pretty fucking cute not gonna lie!

There was one voice line of him mentioning that he likes gazing at stars, which was completely unexpected for me! He didn't seem like the type to gaze up at the stars and just- watch! Though I expect him to be always alone whenever he does that- he isn't exactly the most approachable person in NRC, people tend to avoid the Leech twins because of Floyd- mostly. People are just scared of them and I don't think Jade has any friends aside from Azul and Floyd. And I don't think either of them would be willing to stay with him to do just that, Floyd's excuse would be because "it's boring~!" and Azul's would be "I have much more important things to do." And I think that's pretty fucking sad.

God please send me to their world I will watch the stars with him please i love him so much I'm—

BACK TO CAPSLOCK FJDJJEKFJKDJFKRNDKDJFKDFLDJRLFNFLDNFLDFNDLNDLDNFLFOFKDLDKDLDKDK

Look. No amount of words can actually describe my feelings for Jade Leech no words can do my love justice UE UE UE UE which is why I do the second best thing— keysmash.

Please please please I could give him the whole world and it wouldn't do my love for him justice 🗿 UE UE UE UEJFBRKFBTKNFRKFBFKFHJFHFDKHFKDBFKDHFKRBFRKBFRKBRKFBFKFNFKFJFKFJDKFK

I also uh, want him to step on me! Y',)!92+_)£_+ Y'know... He would stomp on my back and dig his heel into my back and probably hurl insults towards me 😳 man. I'd be hIS FUCKING DOORMAT IN A HEARTBEAT.

Omg this is getting long

The first part was much more 🗿🗿🗿🗿🗿 but I still do this anyways.

Anyways. Please stan Jade Leech I love him so much 💕

i would've included my brainrot but ppl would just go 🗿 "taku you really are a jade simp huh" and NO I DON'T WANT THATTTTTTTTT

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst meme #disney #octavinelle #admin simps #why i love jade leech #jade leech #twst jade #twisted wonderland jade #jade appreciation post

[dreamsclock]

hi hello!!! a lot of ur posts have some up on my dash and i rlly like ur analysis of c!dream. im a strong believer in the “Dream Is Aware That This Is A Game” theory and was wondering if u had thoughts on it? idk as a theory it seems to line up with a lot of ur thoughts on why c!dream acts and thinks the way he does

hi!! this is actually one of my favourite theories, because i adore characters who are aware of the fact they’re fictional/not real (hence my adoration for the writer dream au where he’s writing the script as a character,, GOD it’s so good sjfksdbk) ,, so here are some of my thoughts on it !!

the most common theory i’ve seen on this revolves around the book schlatt gave him being a script of the smp, which is a concept i adore so much, because it would certainly explain three things: a) schlatt’s character, b) dream’s change, and c) dream’s power. 

in terms of schlatt, the guy was incredibly clever and was always one step ahead of pogtopia. whether it was replanting the tnt or killing their spy or dying while knowing manberg would soon follow him, schlatt was a guy who knew what he was doing. and the thing was that ,, schlatt didn’t SEEM like a clever character, you know?? he was comic relief up until the elections - and then shit hit the fan. it’s easy to see how he could have been “reading ahead in the script” as it were. comprehending you’re in a game/script is also probably ,, incredibly difficult, and could be a partial explanation behind schlatt’s alcoholism and general attitude ??

dream, too, deteriorates QUICKLY after he gets this book - whether it’s knowledge of the fact he’s in a game, the dream smp script, or just the revive book, it’s no wonder why. any of that kind of information instantly changes EVERYTHING in your life - for dream, it’s no different, especially if he becomes aware he’s in a game, because then nothing he does matters, does it?? he can kill whoever he wants or die or be evil and none of it matters - he’ll always come back and nothing has consequences because it’s all just a game.

the only thing that matters to him is keeping the game going. to continue the story, because otherwise he’ll die for GOOD, which ,, is a terrifying concept. so he takes on the role of the villain, plays the part to keep his and tommy’s story going, because hey, people might hate him, but he’s keeping them alive, in a way, he’s keeping the game interesting. he destroys everything he’d BEEN to keep himself and everyone he cares about alive ,, and it also explains how he can cut off attachments (not that i think he actually ever manages it, but for the sake of this thread let’s say he does!) !! because if nothing in his world is real, then nothing other than the things keeping the game going - tommy, himself and the disks - matter.

it explains how he’s always one step ahead, it explains how he’s got so many resources, it explains his huge build of the underground finale cliffside box ,, he can cheat the game, he can see what’s coming next or just spawn in more items for himself. in a way it’s like creative mode, in a way, because once he’s learned he’s living in a game, he can learn the mechanics. 

god this is SUCH an interesting theory and i could talk forever about it, but i’ll refrain :’)) thank you so much for this ask though, this was POG to answer and i hope it was interesting for ya!! :]

#> my asks !! #-> my analysis !! #-> my theories !! #tw alcohol #tw alcoholism #tw alcohol abuse #tw manipulation #tw mental illness #tw trauma #tw self destructive behavior #tw death #tw murder

[flowerbloom-arts]

A 2434 word long fic about Fuddler talking to a maybe not actually real version of his father after trying to escape from a recent event in his life and failing. Now I would've written a 50s sitcom episode of Fuddler's family that would've lead up to this point if I had the motivation, but I didn't, so here you go. I hope you enjoy this!

---

The set of the show had become undone and the fourth wall was nothing but a non-existent window into the stage, the Muddler, tear stained and tired of his child's shenanigans, went up from the table he was crying at and walked to the empty director's chair with 'The Fuddler' embroidered on the back and sat on it. The Muddler grabbed the megaphone that sat on one of the armrests and spoke into it in a very clearly annoyed tone of voice: 'Cut. Take 2. Excuse me! That wasn't a bad first take but all of you really fell apart at scene 15.'

But the rest of the cast had been frozen in place, basically mannequins, all except Fuddler, who was in fact the mastermind behind this mess. The small and fuddly creature looked around in a slight bit of confusion and decided to walk up to his father on his director's chair, it did have his name on it afterall. 'Excuse me, aren't I supposed to be sitting there?' he asked rather sheepishly, there was a thought in the back of his head that knows exactly why but he's too afraid to make that thought even slightly tangible.

'Well, yes,' answered the Muddler matter-of-factly 'but due to poor management someone else had to take over.' he added, he spun the megaphone around and inspecting it in a rather disinterested manner. If it's anyone, it really didn't seem to be the father that Fuddler knew, even if he was stained with dark brown tears on his face and wore ragged feminine attire indicative of a mental breakdown, which was a sight that would only be familiar as the Muddler.

'Maybe. Though we should probably take a break, that breakdown didn't look all that... The breakdown seemed very exhausting to act out,' Said the Fuddler, trying to avoid going over this episode another time.

'Sure,' Muddler said, he didn't even care to glance at his child, he put down the megaphone on the floor and rested his face on his paw resting on the armrest, looking off to the black void beyond the set or nearby part of the studio.

Fuddler sighed with relief and a tinge of discomfort, he decided it was best to sit down next to his father and look back at the scene that was frozen in time. It was not even the slightest bit amusing to say the least, it's just everyone looking concerned over Muddler having a breakdown but Muddler isn't even there, you could see the Fuzzy, Fuddler's mother, placing a hand on what was Muddler's back, great uncle Hodgkins and Sniff are looking on confused and concerned, and Moomintroll had just walked in with not even the slightest idea of what's going on. The Fuddler stared at it for a few moments before saying what was on his mind while the scene was happening 'That... That breakdown... It wasn't in the script.'

'What script?' Muddler asked as if Fuddler was too dumb to even remember he didn't even make one. Of course there wasn't any script to speak of.

'I- I dunno!' Fuddler blurted out with the realization 'You guys were basically reading my mind anyway! I thought that was something like reading a script-!'

'Were we reading your mind or were you controlling us?' Muddler asked, almost cutting him off.

Fuddler was a bit surprised at the sudden interruption, it's really unlike his father to act anything close to this, is this even his father? Fuddler started to actually question everything about this, as if it wasn't a very obvious thing he should've questioned at the start. He looked down and curled up into a more fetus-like sitting position, kind of avoiding answering the question.

'Now tell me, child, why this?' Muddler gestures vaguely toward the set.

'What do you mean?' Fuddler looked up at Muddler and asked innocently.

'Why the television show?' he clarified, he lowered his resting paw and finally looked at Fuddler for once, though he did look very... unpleasant.

Fuddler felt very uncomfortable at the question and simply answered with an 'I dunno...' like a small child, he certainly looked and acted like one either way despite being an adult.

Muddler sighed disappointedly and went back to staring at the set 'Is this really how you're gonna deal with what happened? What even did happen, anyway?' he asked, even he was unsure of the origins of this.

'I... I actually don't remember... Excuse me, sorry, oh dear... What was I thinking?' Fuddler asked, he was mostly asking himself that.

'That's right, what were you thinking?' Muddler repeated Fuddler with annoyance 'Did you really think you could reduce your own family into cheap tropes and live like that?'

'I wasn't trying to do that!' Fuddler cried 'I just thought...! I thought if I could live just one happy day after 10 years of nonstop misery-!'

'And you did that by retreating into some ideal version of reality the city gave you through a light box?'

'Yes!' Fuddler blurted out, he realised what he said outloud and slowly went back into a balled up position on the floor 'Just... Atleast those people on TV seemed happier... Happier than we ever could've been when we moved to the city,' Fuddler argued with a quieter but ultimately defeated tone, this wasn't how things were supposed to go in his mind.

'Is that why you wanted to move away so badly?' Muddler asked in a more sincere and worried tone of voice, much more like his regular self and what Fuddler would be used to.

'Maybe,' Fuddler answered simply 'Or I guess there were other things too...' he added.

'Oh I could definitely list them off for you,' Muddler suddenly went back to a menacing tone.

Fuddler suddenly felt a great shock to his system and did not want anything Muddler could be implying 'Please don't-'

'Well first of all,' Muddler didn't let his child finish and he didn't seem to care in the slightest 'you didn't like other creatures shoehorning you into their ideas of what you should be, you didn't like the boring concrete buildings, you hated the constant noisiness of that wretched city, you couldn't bare the constant mockery from your own peers, they kept thinking you were a twelve year old - which you never grew out of being one after all these years by the way - and kept thinking you were lying when you said you weren't, you didn't like the lack of frogs or swamps or free things to collect off the street, you were being discriminated against for being a clumsy little mut, and most of all-'

'Please stop!' Fuddler cried.

'MOST OF ALL,' Muddler repeated louder to talk over Fuddler 'You hated me. Your own father. Simply because he couldn't land a simple job and was too feminine for anyone's liking!'

'NO!' Fuddler jumped up and tried to hold onto his dad's arm, but Muddler quickly got it away from him.

'YES! You kept having the same negative comments and jokes repeated to you over and over and you thought they were making fun of you by association! You don't want anything to do with the way I am and yet you keep chugging along the same way I did!' Muddler cried 'You were happy enough to tell my dear old friend mr. Moomin that people said you took after me and leave it at that! What if he asked you even further? Would you have talked about me in a good way!?'

'STOP! PLEASE!' Fuddler was almost in tears at this.

'Oh I see how it is! Just admit it! You hate me! Why else would you shove me in as the comic relief? Why else would I break out of character if you didn't know it'd be completely out of line for who I actually am!? I am anything BUT happy and you know this! No matter how hard you try I will cry eventually because I'm that dumb and sensitive about everything! The only things that you got right about me is that I'm clumsy and that I love you!' Muddler started tearing up through all the yelling 'You know deep down I love you... It's not your fault... right?'

Fuddler wanted to cover his face in his saucepan but unfortunately he was in his sitcom costume which lacked it completely, all he could really do was bury his face in his paws and try not to cry, muddler tears are much like that of a dog's, mixed in with blood waste and it stains your face, you'd need some cloth and water to clean it. Very inconvenient for a man, they aren't supposed to cry, and the stains make it very obvious you did.

'Fuddler... Did you really think this was going to solve anything?' Muddler got up from the director's chair to kneel down and lowered Fuddler's paws away from his face, Muddler's face was... trying to be comforting but that got ruined by the tear stains, which was being added onto by him crying at this very moment, he looked down at Fuddler's paws, looked back up at his face and added '... At all?'

Fuddler didn't make an attempt to make eye contact with his father, those strange 'u' shaped pupils were familiar but the idea of them not being normal at all still brought him some form of discomfort '... I just... Excuse me. I just thought that maybe... If I could feel better, somehow, maybe the problem would be less of a problem...'

'Fuddler, you don't even remember what the problem was,' Muddler said, he held his child's chin up to make him look at him directly 'You know this.'

'I know...' Fuddler admitted 'I think the cause is starting to come back to me... I think... It's still a little foggy...'

Muddler sighed 'How many times have you done something like this?'

'I...' Fuddler started thinking 'I don't know... I never bothered counting.'

'So this clearly isn't the first time.'

'It definitely doesn't feel like the first time... say for the addition of a few cast members,' Fuddler added the last part as a sly attempt at humor, he was referring to Moomintroll, Jumble and Sniff.

'Of course,' Muddler said with a touch of melancholy and sat on the floor beside Fuddler, Fuddler followed suit 'Do you think this is normal?'

'Dad, I moved to Moominvalley to get away from 'normal'!'

'You moved to Moominvalley to feel normal, there's a difference. And that's an important difference to realise,' said the Muddler, the black and white studio faded into a sepia tone as it seemed to transition into a lake sort of scene, almost unnoticeably to the Fuddler.

'Why's that?' Fuddler asked.

Muddler picked up a flower that happened to be next him, well- not actually, a sort of ethereal copy of the flower formed which left the real one untouched, Muddler looked thoughtfully at the flower in his hands 'If you know the difference, then maybe you can appreciate the specific thing that makes this place feel like you feel normal.'

Fuddler stared at the flower and glanced up at his father '... You're not really my dad, are you?'

'You think that now?' Muddler questioned with an amused undertone.

Fuddler felt almost silly about it, of course this Muddler isn't real, why would he think otherwise? 'I dunno... I guess I got cought up in the all the acting that... I forgot I'm just talking to myself...'

'Does it really matter, though?' Muddler raised an eyebrow with a slight smile on his face 'Atleast you got it out of your system, you twelve year old.'

'Don't call me a twelve year old!' Fuddler cried in defense.

'Then why do you act like one?'

'How can I not act like one if I look like one?' he said, slightly furious at the subject being brought up.

'People can turn invisible if they're abused enough, maybe this is something similar?' Muddler suggested.

'Tsch, magic, sure.' Fuddler waved off dismissively.

'You stayed as the same Fuddler that you were when we lost Sniff, excuse me but you really don't think there's something connected here?' Muddler asked rather rhetorically 'You graduated college with a degree in biology and live by yourself in the coffee tin you inherited from me and yet you still chase after a woman like you have a preteen crush on her with absolutely no clue as to how to talk to a girl.'

Fuddler cringed at the memory of his attempted courtship of the Mymble and recoiled back into a ball position.

'But atleast it seems like you learned from it, just... Don't let things paint your views so easily, sir,' Muddler placed the flower on Fuddler's head.

'Don't use 'sir' on me...' Fuddler muttered quietly.

'Well, what do you want me to refer to you as? Ma'am?'

'That's even worse!' Fuddler shut down the idea almost immediately, he grabbed the flower from his head and looked at it 'Neither of them feel all that right...'

'Right,' Muddler said 'It's fine if you don't want to be referred to as either of those.'

'It's not just that... I don't really feel like a... A man. Atleast not how the world seems to think of one.'

'You're a button collector, Fuddler. Maybe you should start calling yourself that instead.'

'You can do that?' Fuddler seems to be almost bewildered but not totally against the idea.

'Fuddler, I'm a half woman who calls itself a man, anyone can be anything, especially in places like this valley. You don't have to define yourself by those standards anymore.' Muddler explained.

Fuddler stared at his father with a thoughtful expression on his face 'Like I don't have to define my family by any of those standards...' he looks back down at the flower in his paw.

'That's the spirit!' Muddler punches his child lightly on the shoulder 'And whatever the problem was... I hope you can fix it, it's not easy but... It'll be better for the long run.'

'Right...' Fuddler flicked the flower into the lake, it simply dissolves in mid-air rather than land into the water or anything 'I'm sorry about... Everything. I'm still very, very dumb.'

The Muddler laughed ever so slightly 'You'll get it in time, I promise.'

'... Maybe.' Fuddler said rather hopefully. The Muddler seemed to dissolve away like the flower did and the world faded into full color. It looks like that episode was a wrap, one might say. Now it's time to figure out why it had to be made.

#moomins #moominvalley #art #muddler #moomin muddler #the muddler #fuddler #moomin fuddler #the fuddler #fanfic #short ficlet #angst fic #I kinda realised halfway through writing this that thisbwas basically the plot of Wandavision lmao #but I don't wanna say it's plagiarising. characters escaping reality through a sitcom has been a thing for a while now #also heehoo more Hdogkins family lore; Fuddler (And Muddler by proxy) addition! yippee! #writing these is actually kinda fun tho

[biofreak659]

U know what? On that note: why I didn't like Netflix Castlevania and how it could have been better (with the caveat that I gave up 2 episodes into season 3 because everyone was obnoxious lol)

The biggest problem Netflixvania suffers from as a story is it's poor pacing. It takes an entire season for our main characters to even meet, and then another entire season for them to finally face Dracula. This could have easily been a single season series, but of course how could the show have survived without long rambling jokes about having sex with sheep, or our main trio bickering like high schoolers (I'll never forgive marvel for making annoying 'witty' dialogue the standard for comedy).

The interesting stuff (ie the castle part of the castlevania) is condensed into a ten minute fight scene, while our mains waste so much time on complete nonsense. But don't worry! Because the show also wastes time on complete nonsense! We definitely needed to see Dracula's whole backstory.

Anyways, now to ramble about how I think it would be better. My opinion is 💯 correct so if you disagree you are wrong and stupid.

Instead of going ahead and laying out all of the story cards, Netflixvania should have at least tried to be a bit more subtle, and more careful with what they chose to share with the viewer.

The existence of Lisa and Alucard really should have been kept secret until Alucard was encountered in the Castle.

Anyways, story. It begins with Trevor saving some hapless villagers or somesuch. They thank him, until they realize he's a Belmont, and then they flee, cursing him because he's been excommunicated and is evil now, yadda yadda. Like it or not, Trevor is our main character, not Dracula or Alucard, and thus the story really should be his. I felt a big problem in Netflixvania is that he really doesn't have any motivation to kill Dracula, beyond Sypha making him feel bad about it.

Give the man some internal motivation! It doesn't matter if it's a sense of duty, or the desire to regain his family's honor, or even if Drac kicked his dog—give Trevor a reason beyond 'because the plot needed me to'.

Anyways, I did like Dracula's generals. I thought they were very interesting, but I think Godbrand should not have been included. He's a dumb marvel archetype for comic relief, and he doesn't do anything for the story beyond being obnoxious. I would have preferred it if, like Carmilla, they were all monsters that appeared in the games (Orlox, Abbadon, The Mummy, Frankenstein's Monster, etc), but regular vampire generals are cool too. I really like Carmilla as a schemer, and moreover, I liked that her scheme failed, largely due to the trio smashing through that plot and killing everyone.

I'm... iffy about the inclusion of the Forgemasters. I don't think Hector or Isaac really added anything to the plot that needed to be added (they make monsters! Uh okay, why do the monsters have to be made?), apart from being sucked into the aforementioned scheming.

I'm losing the thread. Anyways! Trevor goes into the castle, does some fighting and exploring, etc. Basically the stuff from early season one, but with no obnoxious quipping. Along the way, he runs into Sypha, as a statue, Grant, as a gremlin man, and eventually Alucard.

I'm torn about including Sypha's disguise as a man. On one hand, it's very funny, on the other, it really doesn't serve a purpose.

I suppose now I ought to mention Netflivania's decision to poc-ify it's white characters.

This, like a lot of netflix's other IPs feels very, hmm, performative. Take the generals for example. There's the japanese lady, and the turkish guy, the indian lady, etc. In the third season, the japanese lady even serves as a sort of tertiary antagonist, as the two vampire hunters were once her slaves. She's got a cool design, too. You know what would make her cooler? A line of dialogue, perhaps, or even, a Name.

I had to look the generals up, and only then did I realize that they actually had names. Netflixvania has a very diverse cast, except the only characters that actually do anything are white.

Except for Isaac, but for some reason Netflixvania decided they had to justify his being black with a slavery backstory, that did not exist in Curse of Darkness.

Anyways, back to the problems with the story.

Dracula and Lisa

In SOTN, we don't even know what happened to Lisa until the Succubus boss battle. In Netflixvania, it's the first thing we see. I feel the decision to humanize Dracula from the getgo, rather than cast him as a complete monster, then make both us and the characters realize the error in thinking of him as an emotionless monster once the existence of Alucard and Lisa are revealed, makes the story seem flatter. It's very predictable in that sense.

'oh Drac wants revenge cause they killed his dead wife but he's gone too far and needs to be put down' is way more interesting if it's

'oh drac needs to be put down but wait he's doing it because he wants revenge cause they killed his dead wife'

It's a fairly predictable story either way, because it's, y'know based on a video game with 3 gig of storage, but at least we have some mystery in why he wants to kill everyone.

And, you could add a but if foreshadowing and drama with the vampire generals, who know why drac is out for revenge, but aren't allowed to ever bring it up.

Characters

All of the characters in Netflixvania are obnoxious and seem to hate each other, except for Sypha who inexplicably falls in love with Trevor, possibly because the future told her she had to.

Seriously, the trio doesn't seem like they can stand each other, and Alucard and Trevor especially. This would be fine, except the series also likes to pretend that they're just doing some friendly witty bickering. This would be fine, if Netflixvania decided to show us that they were actually friends.

Just leave them as enemies, it's fine.

Grant Danasty

Okay this one is more petty and personal, but I like Grant mostly because my sister mained him in that awful castlevania fighting game (I was always Eric)

Where are you looking!

Anyways, they totally could have included Grant, but there were more important scenes, such as: Godbrand doesn't bathe, and

Yeah okay I'm giving up for now. This dumb show incenses me

I will write more later unless I forget

#wah wah #long post #i hesitantly tag this #castlevania

[boethiahsboytoy]

15 and 23 for the vyrthraals :3 -esther

ALL OF THEM!!!!!!!!

This needs to be under a cut this is going to be on the longer side. Ny'all have been Warned :')

15.) What are the dynamics like between your characters? Do they generally get along? How do their personalities and motivations bounce off one another? How do they come away feeling upon interacting with each other? 

RUBS MY GRUBBY LITTLE HANDS TOGETHER!!!! I. LOVE. How the Vyrthaals interact :3

So when they First meet each other they are butting their heads together CONSTANTLY. Boe! Vyr is picking fights with everyone (ESPECIALLY Malacath! and Vampire! Vyr but also a little with OG! Vyr too just bc hes kind of a goody two shoes), Jay and Pery! Vyr are always arguing over the best course of actual while Mora! Vyr bitches about neither of them knowing Anything about what they're doing, for some reason Sanguine! and Meridia! Vyr are actually throwing hands and it's getting Really violent, seriously what the fuck is with you two DON'T fucking kill each other PLEASE, and oh no, Why are Sheo! Vyr and Namira! Vyr watching all of them ominously in the corner making threatening gestures at everyone-- you get the idea.

Basically, none of them want Anything to do with each other when they are first thrown together, and not even in a begrudging sibling way where at the end of the day they Would actually have each others' backs. It isn't until they realize how much danger they're in that they even Try working together. Not to spoil the Entire Story but they *are* actually forced to work together and look out for each other. Even ones who's parents are super enemies, like Boe! and Vampire! Vyrthaals. They do, for the duration of their Quest together, have the same motivation: to get to the bottom of Who has trapped them in a hellish nightmare world thats an amalgamation of all their homes, stop them from stealing the powers of their parents to control the worlds as they know them, and Try Not To Die.

After their Quest is finished though it's different. Of course it is, I fucming LOVE found families and the power of friendship!!! But they all end with really loving each other, willing to do anything it takes to keep each other safe!! Yes obviously they still bicker and don't always see eye 2 eye but at the end of the day they really do come away from their Quest with a great deal of love and care for each other :') They ALSO really learn how to fight together. During their Quest they're under attack almost constantly, and they go from almost killing each other by accident to moving together almost perfectly as a team. If a Jaeger could support 18 different people, they would all be Drift Compatible (OK OK NOT ALL TOGETHER but separately in smaller teams? ABSOLUTELY. I need to chart out who would be Most compatible with who, BUT at the end of the day they could all Drift together in any combination In A Pinch. Someone remind me to do this at some point I fuckign love Pacific Rim).

23.) What is your character's type or archetype? (For example: the Fool, the Lover, the Fighter, etc.) Why do they fit this archetype? 

I looked up,,,a lot of lists of archetypes for this one lmao.

OG! Vyr: Chosen One. Auri-El brings him back to life and blesses him with immense power for the Sole Purpose of killing Lord Harkon and stopping Molag Bal from ruining Nirn. (He's also been looking out for Vyrthaal here and there since he was born; its part of the reason he was able able be preserved in stasis for so long lmao) He's the Super Special Magical Destiny Kid who's gotta save the world!!

Dagon! Vyr: A gentle giant, surprisingly enough!! He can Be Rowdy and certainly enjoys getting rough and wild like the big party boy he is but at the end of the day he's actually a gentle person that cares about the safety of others.

Boe! Vyr: I didn't know that "hotshot" was the Name for this lol but the motherfucker who's reckless as all hell but like, Good At It. Unlike their Daedric Parent they tend to rush into things without thinking. Thankfully they're also good at getting themself out of whatever hell they yeet themself into!

Pery! Vyr: A peacemaker. They're the only sense of impse control the Vyrthaals actually have lmaooooo. But like, he's stressed about this and doesn't necessarily Want that to be his role all the time, idk if there's a name for that but that's them if there is!

Clavicus! Vyr: A class clown/comic relief sort of figure, bc they get into Silly Shenanigans but like, a little angsty bc they are actually kind of self conscious abt how comparatively weak they are not just to the other Vyrthaals but like, in general and use the Silliness to hide that. Does that have a specific name??

Namira! Vyr: EMPATH/GUARDIAN BUT SPECIFICALLY FOR FALMER. Literally her whole Thing as a Demiprince is caring for and watching over them. Yes the other Demiprince Vyrthaals do what they can for them, but this is her Role. All the Vyrthaals look out for each other but she's watching them from the shadows to keep track of which one needs what exactly, if that makes sense.

Mora! Vyr: A stereotypical genius nerd but they do it in a really creepy and unsettling way that makes you feel like they know Too Much About You, Personally.

Malacath! Vyr: Warrior type :3 He is brave and strong and protects those weaker than him !!

Sheo! Vyr: Idk if this has a name but the unlikely one that brings everyone together....it is Mostly bc during their Quest he is Very young at abt 6 years old and all the Vyrthaals feel Very protective over him (even when he is being intentionally unsettling. Also fun fact he likes to hold onto Boe! Vyr's cape while he walks, and they and Jay are the ones most likely 2 carry him when he's sleepy)

Sanguine! Vyr: A thrill seeker !!! He's here to Go Fast, fuck the consequences!! Also his whole thing is poor impulse control so it uhhhh sort of affects him too

Meridia! Vyr: I really don't know for her bc she's That underdeveloped unfortunately!! Which is kind of funny to me bc Meridia was the first Prince I ever learned abt lol. Is "seemingly sweet and soft girl bit can actually crush you with ease" count? It should. I'm gonna say it does so I feel like I answered for her :')

Hircine! Vyr: Is there a term specifically for like....a silent observer? He's a very quiet guy but he watches and sees everything!! He knows what all the Vyrthaals are Doing. (Is he doing anything with that info? Not really. It's just kinda There In His Brain.)

Vampire! Vyr: Okay one of the lists of archetypes I found had "vampire" as one so i guess BESIDE THAT. I think he would be the Orphan--abandoned by his mortal parent and rejecting his Daedric one. (I mean he gets adopted but him cutting ties to his biological family And the Volkihar Clan as well is a major part of his story)

Vaermina! Vyr: I must unfortunately confess I haven't developed Vaermina! Vyr (Vyrmina, if ur feeling punny) very much besides "master alchemist with pretty Fucked Up morals." Does that classify as the Mad Scientist type? I'm gonna say it does. Yeah.

Mephala! Vyr: Another underdeveloped Vyr, this time because I don't know much about Mephala at all so I'm not sure what parts of her would influence Vyrthaal :( I unfortunately have to pass on this one ;; (On the bright side I do have an appearance idea in mind, which is more than I can say for some of the better developed Vyrthaals)

Azura! Vyr: I have obviously saved the most underdeveloped Vyrthaals for last, BUT I think Azura! Vyr can fit the Secret Heart Of Gold type. She's pretty cold (snelf pun unintended) and often rude to people but at her core she tries to be a good person.

Nocturnal! Vyr: Secretive(tm) just like her Daedric Parent lol. Literally just Lurking There and watching everything. (I feel like this could also fit Mephala! Vyr but she's not as Much as Nocturnal! Vyr).

HOLY FUCK I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT JAY. OH MY GODS. I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT HER ALMOST NON STOP FOR LIKE 3 DAYS WHAT THE HELL??????

Jyggalag! Vyr, AKA Jay: She is a Leader type, perhaps a reluctant leader. She's got the skills for it, she's good at Making people work together to get shit done, and she definitely has the vibe of someone to be obeyed even Before she takes her father's place. Can't believe I fucking forgot about Jay. What the fuck.

OHHHH my gods this got SO long but What does anyone expect when it comes to Anything About Vyrthaal :') Esther ilu thank u for sending this in it SO fun talking abt how the Vyrthaals interact :')

#ask #anon #esther #mothermara #Into the Vyrthaal-Verse #Vyrthaal-Verse Info #long post #ask meme response #THANK YOUUUU FOR THIS ONE !!!! i LOVED answering for it!! #also this took so lobg bc i straight up forgot about it yesterday ;;;;

[phantomrose96]

new episode. new liveblog. new episode. new liveblog.

Giyuu in the cold-open scene: -does absolutely nothing- me: Oh. Oh fantastic. I’m so glad you’re back. Oh I’d die for you.

The outfits are so goddamn pretty in this show. And Shinobu’s is the new reigning champion of “fuck thats pretty”

Spider-Dad fucking skipped Inosuke across the water. 3 times. like a rock

Yeah uh.... Inosuke acknowledging he’s injured must mean he’s truly fucked.

Inosuke is running away while waist-deep in the water. That’s like the HARDEST way to run away. Get on land with Tanjiro you moron.

Team Rocket Tanjiro is blasting off again

Like Spider-Dad just home-runned him outta the fucking forest. With a cut-down tree. The Kimetsu fight dynamics are fucking wild.

Tanjiro: “Inosuke, don’t die until I get back!” Inosuke: “...” Inosuke: “...” Inosuke: “Wonder why Kentaro wants me to die once he gets back.”

me prior to this episode: “I think that Riu spider kid is the actual member of the twelve demon moons.” Tanjiro: “Be careful Inosuke that Spider Dad is the Twelve Moon Member!” me, genre-savvy and aware of what misdirection is: “Okay so Riu is DEFINITELY the Twelve Moon member”

Yall I’m still wildly emo about Zenitsu being left to just... die alone... doing his best to resist the poison but like, fuck what can he even do beyond just lie there and hope? I’m really emo. Last episode fucked me up.

FUCK that’s a pretty aesthetic.

They’re really doing the MOST with that full moon. Like the full moon serves the functional purpose of letting the MadLad trio actually see and fight at night in the forest. But aesthetically? the most.

Shinobu: Yoo hoo? Hey buddy u fucking ded?

Kentaro’s out here pissing off powerful demons cuz he can’t keep his opinions about family to himself.

Generic looking background character: -appears- me: Oh he’s absolutely dead.

Tanjiro, seeing his 8th Extremely Traumatizing thing of the day: “I need a new job”

The way they’re playing with color to make Riu balls-to-the-walls terrifying is just... really good.

The slow and staggered creep of the camera, the music swell, the colors. Its all really good.

Inosuke:

Inosuke’s brain: 

THE FUCKING POP NOISE WHEN INOSUKE REALIZES “hey wait why the FUCK am i running away?”

THEY FUCKING GAVE HIM DENSER LINES. AND FROZE HIM IN PLACE. FUCKING POP. FUCKING NYOOM.

Inosuke, using his one sword to hammer in his other sword: I beat a mother-fucker with another mother-fucker

THE MOST. SELF-AWARE DUMBASS. NOTHING BUT RESPECT FOR IDIOCY THAT KNOWS ITS OWN IDIOCY.

He can’t READ.

Inosuke has two swords.

Tanjiro vs. Riu set to Undertale’s ‘Spider Dance’ track 

“What doesn’t hurt, doesn’t hurt!” Inosuke... honey.... that’s not healthy...

Fun fact that was revealed earlier in the manga but not translated to the anime: Inosuke’s ability to ‘sense’ out the location of enemies is due to his superior sense of touch. Complementing Tanjiro’s sense of smell, and Zenitsu’s hearing.

the blood smudge on Inosuke’s boar mask looks kinda like the typical anime blush marks, and when we only see his left half of his face it throws me every time

Inosuke literally every moment since his introduction: I’m the best! No one can beat me! I’ll fight anyone! I’ll fight you! I’ll fight your dog! I’ll fight myself! I’m never injured and I’m never hurt and I’m never tired! Anything Monjiro can do I can do even better! There’s no way to beat me in a fight and I’ll never surrender! Inosuke... in this episode:

I’m fucked up all over again...

First Zenitsu now Inosuke

And with Zenitsu it’s at least... expected of his character to want to give up. Not Inosuke. Never Inosuke. That’s fucked up. I’m fucked up. 

Again the color palette. This time the desaturation is what just... drives home the feeling of hopelessness. It’s so good.

Tanjiro: “Whatever you do, don’t die Inosuke” me, clutching my heart: “fuck”

Hey y’know extra sad how all the people who have ever cared about Inosuke, who flash before his eyes while he’s dying, are people we’ve met in series. Inosuke really went 15 straight years of his life with no one ever giving a damn about him.

Inosuke: “No... actually, I WONT lose! I wont! come at me monster!” Spider-dad: -punts Inosuke like a pinball across three separate trees-

It’s like the rock-skipping-across-water but now so much more painful.

He’s literally.... crushing Inosuke’s skull... in order to kill him... Inosuke’s been training specifically to toughen his head... Because he’s mad Tanjiro was able to knock him out with a headbutt... Inosuke might survive SPECIFICALLY because of that dumb grudge... I’m emo again.

His big pretty green eyes are still... funny.

He’s so so young in this it left me wondering “how does Inosuke remember the name his mother gave him” .... and then i remembered:

His name’s written on his fucking underwear. It’s the only piece of identity his mother left him... Fuck.

This leads me to two conclusions: 

1) Inosuke must have transferred his name - despite not even being able to read the words - onto all his clothing since then. 

2) He must have, at some point, asked someone who can read to tell him what it says...

Inosuke, moments from death, remembering the image of his mother’s face for the first time: Who... who are you? me, bawling: you’re supposed to be the comic relief.

fuck YES IT’S GIYUU TIME.

Tomioka “Cool guys don’t look at explosions” Giyuu

Inosuke: “I’ve never seen anyone as cool as this guy.” me: “bitch me too, the fuck.”

Please I just want Giyuu to stick around. If anything, as the only real adult. Also because he’s really fucking cool and I have a type. 

Inosuke: -attacks Spider-Dad earlier in the ep- Inosuke: -his blades snap- me: :0  Tanjiro: -attacks Riu’s spider thread- Tanjiro: -his blade snaps- me:

<:0 !!!!!!!!

#kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba spoilers #demon slayer #kny #demon slayer spoilers #kny spoilers #long post #chrissy watches kny #liveblog #i like this epsiode.... a lot..... #blood //

[sylvain-writes]

Scarlet Letters (TMNT Raphael x Reader)

Chapter 8/8: Bitter and Sweet

Rated M (Mature)

(Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ao3)

Since passing out in the Turtle Van, you’re not sure how much time has passed.  You regained consciousness several times to the excitement of blue eyes and brown, but it feels like forever since you’ve seen Raphael. 

In the space between asleep and awake, memories fuel your concern.  You remember being taken, finding Leo, your escape through the temple.  You remember Michelangelo stealing you away and Raphael disappearing into the madness.  When you wake in the lair this time, it’s with a strangled cry.

Mikey looks up from the table, startled by your shout.  You stare at him for a moment to catch your breath, but he doesn’t stare back at you.  His gaze is affixed to a point above.  Turning your head, you follow.  You don’t realize you’re lying with your head in Raphael’s lap until you’re looking up at him.  

In periphery to your vision, there’s movement.  Donatello has entered the room.  He and Mikey discuss something amongst themselves.  But Raphael’s hand alights to your head and you sigh.  He brushes his fingers over your hairline and you can’t focus on anything but the relief of having him close.

“Ya guys can beat it,” Raphael grunts.  Though he shoos his brothers away, his sights are set on you.  There’s no anger in his voice or his eyes.   “I got it from here.”

“Right,” Donnie says shortly.  Then, dutifully, he reminds his brother of your care.  “Poultice, tea, anti-inflammatories-”

“I said, I got it,” Raphael raises his voice at that, but only enough to get his point across.  “Now, the two o’ you, get the shell outta here.”

After a bit of commotion, and what sounds like the a fight over who can leave the room more quickly, you and Raphael are alone.

His thumb brushes over a lump on your forehead and though his touch is a comfort, you wince.  “How do you guys go through this every night?”

Raph frowns.  He’s apologetic, guilty, when he admits, “It ain’t always like that.”  Your stomach drops when he looks away from you, even though his eyes only leave you for a second.  There’s pain in his expression as he asks, “Where does it hurt?”

“Hmph.”  The effort it takes for you to lift your arm is substantial, but you manage to gesture a wave over your body as you lay.  “Everywhere.”

“There’s Tylenol on the tray,” he explains, but he’s already reaching for the water glass and pills.  

You have to roll onto your side to take them and find that although the position makes it impossible to look up at Raphael, you’re more comfortable.  The fabric of Raphael’s sweatpants is well worn.  His muscles under your cheek have just enough give.  You snuggle in.  And when Raphael’s heavy hand comes to rest on your side, you settle.  “Is this alright?”

“I don’t gotta be anywhere but here,” Raph drawls.  The lazy lines he draws over the crown of your head tingle down your spine.  You’d like to stay awake, but the safety of Raphael’s presence eases you to sleep.

⁂

When you wake in the lair again, you think a few hours have passed.  Maybe a day.  Muffled voices rise and fall in the next room.  Curious, restless, you move to sit.

As before, Mikey is hovering nearby, waiting to announce your every movement like it’s his job.  You think, Maybe it is.

“Dude,” Donatello chides.  “Space.”  The bespectacled turtle adjusts his glasses as he muddles herbs in a small stone bowl.  “Sorry,” he apologizes to you, but you shrug it off.

“It’s fine,” you croak through your dry throat.  

“But you’re up!  You OK?” At Donnie’s direction, Mikey’s taken a step back from the couch.  Even so, he greets you with enthusiasm.

You shake your head, unsure.  “Almost.  Can I get a little help?”

Without missing a beat in his work, Donatello kicks his younger brother - a quick strike of his heel to the back of Mikey’s knee.  Mikey’s stance falters, for just a second, before he whips his head around to scowl.  Donatello jerks his chin toward a tunnel in a silent reminder.

“Oh!  I should tell Raph you’re up.” Mikey takes care in helping you to your feet, though he still jostles your shoulder more than you would have preferred.  

“I think I can manage that myself,” you say, but Mikey remains at your side until you both feel like you’re steady.  The voices in the next room get louder, then hush.  “Just follow the arguing, right?”

Mikey looks from Donatello to you with a hint of amusement.  “You really do know Raph.”

You choose to ignore the wisecrack to make your way down the tunnel.  It’s slow going, but soon you’re leaning against the wall at an entrance to a large room.  Judging by the mats, the training equipment, and the walls of weapons, you can tell you’ve stumbled upon the dojo.  

In front of a small altar of incense and candles, the brothers engage in a heated discussion.

“You can’t keep going out there alone.”  There’s an edge to the blue-banded turtle’s order, and an even sharper one to the reply.

“I ain’t waiting for them to come back, Leo.”

Your cheeks burn as you watch the brothers square off against each other.  This isn’t what you want for them.  

“It’s done, man.  They’re gone.”

“You can’t say that for sure.”  Raphael paces as he seethes.  “Ya don’t know.  What they did to ya, what they did to…”

Exhaustion heavy in his voice, Leonardo insists, “You heard Donatello.  All that’s over.”

Raphael’s large knuckles are white in his fists, but he keeps them at his sides.  “I gotta be sure, Leo.  Every last one of ‘em’s gotta pay for what they did.”

The eldest draws out his sigh.  “We gotta be smart about this-”

“Oh, and I’m not smart?  I’m just the big, dumb idiot, right?  Got all of us into this shit, so it’s frickin’ unfathomable that I could get us out.  Right?”

“Raph-” Leo starts in, but you’ve seen enough.

“I thought you two were supposed to be making amends or something.” Although you stand at the entrance, you’re sure they can hear your voice waver as it carries across the room.

“We were just clearin’ the air,” Raphael grumbles.  But the expressions he and Leo wear assure you nothing has been resolved.

Waving his hands in the air, Leo tosses in the towel.  He doesn’t acknowledge Raphael with a ‘goodbye’ or a ‘good luck’ when he leaves him.  He passes you, however, on his way out; and with a nod as he goes, he says, “Glad you’re up.”

You give him a nod in return.  There are things you need to say to him, to all of the guys, but Raphael comes first.  “Can we talk?”

“Yeah,” Raphael answers, and you’d think he was just given devastating news.  “We should talk.”  He gestures down the tunnel with a sweep of his hand.  “My room’s down there.  It’s private.  I’ll, uh, be there in a minute.”

You hesitate at the edge of the mat long enough to see Raphael isn’t hanging back to alleviate his frustrations by punching dummies or throwing shuriken at targets.  His slow steps take him to the altar, where he lights a new stick of incense.  He touches a folded pile of cloth and bows.  You know the significance of this spot.  A memorial for their father.  When Raphael’s knees touch the ground, you turn away.  He deserves the quiet moment to himself.

In the tunnel, Mikey’s waiting to lead you to the door across from his quarters.  But even if he hadn’t pointed out which room was Raphael’s, you think you could have figured it out.  The mismatched drum kit.  The knit bedspread. The band posters on the wall, curling at the corners.  The desk, covered in comics and cds.  Even the melancholy tune playing from the boombox at the head of the bed.  It all just kinda fits him – the guy who’s half in his head, half in his fists.  The guy who has so much heart that sometimes he can’t contain it.  

Raphael’s footsteps are heavy.  You’d recognize his approach even among his similarly built brothers.  Mikey’s presence has been a comfort, but with the way your heart clenches at the sight of Raphael, the youngest turtle’s company can’t compare.

Raphael mumbles for the young turtle to scram as he shuffles in.  The tray of medicines is full but small in his hands.  You hug yourself as you survey the blend of treatments from the East and West.  It’s an impressive array.  Their father taught them well, you think; he would be proud.

You start to say as much before stopping.  It’s not your place.  Even though it feels like  you’ve known Raphael much longer than a few days, you don’t know enough about his relationship with his father to make that kind of statement.  

Taking care to balance the tray upon the mattress, Raphael kneels in front of where you’re seated at his desk.  Your lungs ache with the strain of a forgotten breath.  

Unable to hold himself back, Raphael reaches out for you.  His strong hands are warm when they find your shins.  Perhaps they picked up the heat by coincidence while he prepared the pot of tea.  But, maybe, he had warmed them on purpose.  

His hands slide up to the bend of your knees until they come to rest upon the sides of your thighs and you shiver.  His grip on you tightens as he looks you over, assessing the worst of your injuries.  The way his eyes are trained on your face, then your arms, you can tell he deliberately avoids your shoulder.  

His eyes lock on the gash over your left eye.  He sniffs shortly before taking a small square of gauze off the tray.  It’s astringent smell reminds you of the night you were taken away.

You flinch and he freezes and you both whisper, “Sorry,” on an exhale.  

In his eyes you see he doesn’t quite understand why the smell of alcohol would set your heart racing and your throat tight, but you’d rather let the moment pass than explain it to him.  He’s only trying to help, you remind yourself.  This is Raphael; you’re safe with Raphael.

When you’re ready, you nod for him to continue.  You drop your gaze from the sad confusion in his stare and focus on the stitches in his lip, instead.  They’ll be ready to come out any day.  

Raphael brings the gauze up to the wound above your eye slowly, tentatively.  “Did Donatello have a look at ya?” he asks, as if to fill the silence.

You wonder if this is what he’s like - if he’s usually one to fill silences with questions to which he already knows the answer.  But when you have a closer look at him, you notice the deep crease of his brow and the tight hunch of his shoulders.  Maybe it’s common for him or maybe it isn’t, but you realize he needs the silence filled.  At least, for now.  

With a hand over his wrist, you assure him, “He’s seen me.”

At that, Raphael expels a long stream of air.  When he inhales again it’s like he’s been waiting for assurance of your safety before allowing himself to breathe.  His split lip relaxed with his sigh and you wonder how his other wounds are faring.  He heals so quickly, it’s hard to tell by sight alone.

“Have I been down here long?” you ask, your thoughts returning to his stitches.

“It’s Thursday,” he says.  But that’s all he gives you before shifting the conversation.  “I been makin’ that soup ya like.”  He gives your forehead a final dab of antiseptic before bringing his hands to his lap.  “Ya ain’t eat nothin’, though.  When ya’d wake up, it wasn’t for long.”  Raphael mentions the soup like he’s disappointed in himself.  Like the soup was a cure all that had failed you, like somehow he had failed you.

You lay a hand on your stomach, but you think the empty feeling there has less to do with a lack of food and more with the hollow tone in Raphael’s voice.  “Maybe later.”

Raphael nods, his head hanging low even as he reaches for the old teapot.  

Raphael pours tea like he’s done so many times in ceremony with his brothers.  He won’t hand it over until it’s perfect.  He adds a bit of honey and a leaf of mint.  He takes a sip, then cools the drink with a gentle blow.  Finally, he offers the cup to you.  

“Oh.”  As the cup passes into your hands, he tries to pull back.  He apologizes, as if he’s just remembered something important.  But you don’t let him backtrack; you don’t let him feel badly for testing the temperature and bitterness of the tea he’s prepared.  You accept the drink without hesitation.  

With a flush to his cheeks, Raphael busies himself with the work of crumbling herbs into a bowl of water.  But there are hidden glances.  He’s waiting for you to have a taste.  He seems to hold his breath as you bring the cup to your lips.

You take it in sips as he soaks a cloth in the small basin.  The drink is almost too sweet, but there’s an oddly familiar scent carried on its steam.  The tea tastes the way your scented candle had smelled and you wonder if this is medicinal or if it’s just what Raphael thinks you like.  Eventually, you’re hit with the aftertaste of herbs so bitter they just about numb your tongue and you think, perhaps the tea is both.

You let Raphael cleanse your wounds with the cloth he’s soaked and then apply fresh salve with a soft brush.  He starts with your eye and foregoes your shoulder, and there’s no doubt now that he’s avoiding that wound for a reason.

The salve stings at first, but Raphael cradles your face in his hands and blows a cool stream of air over the gash.  The breeze cuts through the pain until the medicine soothes.  

“You’re warm,” Raphael murmurs, his thumbs rubbing along the line of your jaw as he adjusts his position in front of you.  “You sure that’s normal?”

Raphael’s hands on your cheeks are cool now, but any hint of fever you had is long gone.  You hum your contentment and lift your uninjured arm.  Raphael makes a small sound of concern at the movement.  Despite the way it twists your heart to have him ignore your shoulder, the delicacy of the little pop in his throat is such a contrast to his bulk that it almost brings a smile to your face.

“I’m not gonna break,” you say to quell his fear.  And you bring your hand down upon Raphael’s head.  For a guy who once said he was no one’s pet, he responds to physical comfort with the greed of someone who is constantly denied what they crave.  He melts under your touch.  You rake your nails over Raphael’s scalp and he bows his head.  He allows your touch, uninterrupted for a minute, before he remembers the bowl in his hands and regains his composure.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, not really meeting your gaze as he swirls the brush through the medicine and passes it over your forehead again.  

“Yes,” you respond with a soft smile.  Your fingers continue their exploration, now trailing around Raphael’s ear with short pets and long caresses.  

When Raphael stills, his attention has finally fallen to your shoulder.  His speech starts and stops and you see that only by not acknowledging it was Raphael able to hold himself together this long.  “I… I gotta put this on the… On your…”

“It’s OK,” you assure him, exposing the old and recent wound.

When Raphael sees it, his nostrils flare and his eyes take on a sheen of regret.  You quickly cover your shoulder again, if only to save him from the sight for a minute.  “I didn’t want this for ya,” he says, quavering.

“It wasn’t you.”  Your voice breaks and you wish you could rewind.  You wish you could steel yourself and try again.

The tremor in Raphael’s hands reminds you of your first meeting.  It’s enough that you take the bowl of salve from him before he drops it.  You bring his hands to your lap and tell him, this time slower, stronger.  “It wasn’t you.”

Raphael shakes his head as he stands, and for a fleeting moment you think he’s going to leave the room.  That’s still your fear, you realize.  That he’ll leave; that he’ll be gone.  That you’ll be strangers before you can be more.  But he only goes as far as his bed, to sit upon the edge and bury his face in his hands.  

“It was my fault.  It was my sai.  If I hadn’t gone topside that night… If Leo hadn’t followed… If I hadn’t let myself get distracted and taken that fall…”

You stand to face him.  “Then we wouldn’t have met.”

The song playing in the background changes and Raphael sags under the weight of foreign lyrics you don’t understand.

“I ain’t supposed to get a happy ending.”  His eyes lift toward a movie poster you hadn’t noticed before.  You should have known he was a romantic at heart.  A part of you did, you suppose.  

With a hand on his cheek, you bring his attention back to you.  “It doesn’t have to be that way.” 

With a shake of his head, he drops his gaze to the hand that hangs at your side.  He takes it up and begins the careful work of picking glass and gravel from your palm.  With a click of his tongue he sneers; it’s a self-deprecating sound. “This is just the way it is.”

His fingers pluck at your skin like he’s done this before.  For you.  You wonder how many hours he’s sat with your hands in his, picking glass out of your wounds so they could close.

You lay your other hand atop of his in a request for his undivided attention.  “I don’t know anything about happily ever after, but I’m not going to let you end something between us that hasn’t even started.“

"Please.” When he looks up again, he isn’t trying to hide the trembling in his lip.  His eyes glisten as he begs for you to let him win this argument.  “Being with me puts you in danger.”

You draw back your shirt collar, exposing your shoulder once again.  “I’ve been in danger since long before I met you.”

His hand comes up, covering the wound like his touch can heal.  You wish it could.  A part of you believes it does.  The hardness of your heart has softened; he’s someone you want to let in.  You won’t let him push you away so easily.  

“I wanna keep ya safe,” he says.  “I need ya safe.”  There’s a pause as his breath catches in his throat.  “When I saw you in the temple…”  His voice cracks, but he forces himself to go on. “When I saw what they’d done…  I had almost lost ya and I didn’t even know.”

“It’s Ok." 

Raphael’s hands and voice are shaking so much he can’t continue.  He turns away, hanging his head.  His hands curl into fists against his temples.  

Standing in front of him, you lay a hand upon his arm.  You smooth your fingertips down to his wrist.  You massage deep circles into the pressure point below his thumb.  His fists are massive and his muscles are hard, but your persistent touch coaxes the tension from his fingers. 

Raphael lets out a halting breath.  As he struggles to find his center, his hands reach out for you.  They only go as far as the hem of your shirt, where he tugs at a split seam and frowns.  Though the pain in your shoulder screams for you to keep still, you cradle Raphael’s face in both of your hands.

“Look at me,” you whisper, but your request is firm.  Then, you wait.  You wait for his eyes to meet yours.  You wait for him to really look.  You’ve known him just a few days and already you can’t imagine a life where you don’t get to look at him looking at you.

“Ya shouldn’t hang around me,” he says, emboldened by the distraction of keeping his hands busy.  His voice quiets as he goes on, until it’s barely enough to reach your ears.  “I’m no good for ya.  Dis ain’t the life I’d want for… for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”  You watch the flash of recognition in his eyes when he realizes you know what he’s trying to say even when he can’t find the words, that you hear him even in his pauses.  You bring your heads together and time seems to stand still.  

With your mouths already close enough that you’re exchanging air, all it takes is the lift of your chin to bring your lips to his.

The first kiss is a test, a taste, a surrender to the temptation that’s been building between you for longer than you’ll admit even to yourself.  Your lips meet and strong hands slide around you, pulling you in.  He tastes like the tea you shared.  Like mint and lemon.  Like bitter herbs and too much honey.  He pulls you in by your sides until you’re standing flush against the edge of the bed between his knees.  

Raphael gasps.  His breath warms your skin in puffs of air as your hands roam his plastron.  His grip on you tenses, as if startled, before relaxing to explore you as well. 

He kisses the less severe of your wounds.  Your forehead, your temples, the bruises on your jaw.  There’s reverence in his touch.  Devotion on his lips.  His mouth reaches the dark veins along your collarbone, the buttons securing the top of your shirt, and then he stops.  His breathing stutters and his hands falter before he buries his face into your neck.  He holds your body tightly against his chest in the pause.  

"You Ok?"  Your fingers twirl the tails of his bandana.  But when he doesn’t answer, you use them to tip his head back to look into his eyes.

“I ain’t never-”  He blinks up at you, leaning into your caress.  “I ain’t done this with anyone.”  He’s covered in cuts and bruises of his own.  There are dark stains on his bandana that you’re sure are blood.  But you bring his face up and press your lips to his.  After a stunned moment, he kisses back.  

Though it scares you, Raphael’s confession spurs one of your own.  "I’ve never been with anyone who makes me feel the things you do…"  

Raphael must catch the change in your breathing, the quickening of your pulse.  But still, he worries.  “I can understand if ya don’t want this…” he says.  “If ya don’t want me.  I know I’m not the-” Raphael’s words stop abruptly as you cover his mouth with yours.  The swiftness of your kiss, the urgency, catches him off guard.  He releases a guttural moan against your lips and you immediately pull away. 

“Is it your stitches?” you ask, cradling his face in your hands.  “Did I-” but before you can voice any more concern, he draws you back to him.  

His thumbs trace the line of your jaw as his lips find yours for another kiss.  He kisses you like he needs this as desperately as he needs to breathe.  He can’t get you close enough.  He pants into the crook of your shoulder as he breathes you in.  “No.  No, I want… I want this.  I want you.”  Then, he’s the one holding you steady to look into your eyes.  “Do you?”

Your hands work the knot of his bandana as you hold his gaze.  You give a short nod before slowly lifting the mask from his face and tossing it aside.  You lean in and speak your answer upon the corner of his mouth, “I want you.”

He picks you up under your thighs without breaking your kiss and lifts you onto the bed.  When he lies back against the pillows, he brings you with him.  Your bodies find each other easily, aligning side-by-side as if practiced, as if you were made to fit tucked into his embrace.

When he touches you, it’s tender, tentative. He knows his own strength and he’s more cautious than he needs to be. But he takes direction well and he’s eager to please.  

His attention to detail is like worship.  The way he says your name is like a prayer.  The way he begs more, please, don’t stop sets your blood aflame.  

He revels in the flush of your skin, in the heat of your arousal.  He craves it.  Can’t get enough with his hands, with his mouth.  The desperate noises you make as he brings you to the edge leave him wide-eyed and yearning. 

When you lay your hands on him, he rises into your touch.  When your nails draw patterns up the insides of his thighs, he trembles.  The sounds he makes are sinful.  You want to taste them on your tongue, swallow them in a kiss.  His body’s responses to you drive your hunger for more.

"Ya gettin’ t’ me with those little moans, Killa."  Raphael’s hands slide carefully around your shoulders to your neck, tipping your head back with gentle encouragement.  The press of his kisses warm your forehead.  His lips linger.  His breath comes heavily through his nose. 

Your break that kiss to leave a trail of them down his plastron to his thighs.

You bring him off with your mouth as his hips thrust and stutter.  His hand kneads your hip in time with your movements, guiding you to speed up, hinting at how close he is.  He cries out as he finds release.  

Raphael’s knuckles caress your face as you lay beside him.  At some point the two of you managed to sneak under the sheets.  Now you’re enjoying the company of his silence.  When Raphael’s focus lingers too long on your shoulder, you hold his hand still and his attention shifts to your eyes.  

“How do ya do that?”  He whispers into the slip of space between you.     "How do ya touch me like this and say things like… and expect me not to-”

“Not to what?”  Your fingers trip mindlessly over the curve of his shell.

His eyes flutter closed at the sensation.  “Not to ask ya to stay?”

“I never said I wanted to go."  

You draw yourself into him before broaching up the subject that plagues each of your minds.  "Did you guys find out anything?  About the antidote… about me… why they took me…”

Raphael holds you to his chest, protectively, possessively.  “You don’t gotta worry ‘bout none o’ that.”

With his hand cupping your face you know he can feel it when your jaw starts to tremble.  “No, no, no.  Hey.  Ya safe here.  Ya safe wit’ me.”  His forehead is solid against yours.  “Nobody’s gonna touch ya.  I won’t let 'em.”

A voice from the doorway cuts through Raphael’s murmuring and sends a shock through both of you.  “It’s unlikely they’ll be after more of your blood, anyway.”  Donatello presses forward, entering the room without invitation and speaking a mile a minute.  You and Raphael blink at his intrusion with disbelief.  “The sample they have in their possession is sufficient.  It’s highly probably they’ve distilled and manufactured, er, synthesized rather, enough antidote to serve their purposes and then some.  You see, the poison deposited in the wound you acquired as a child-”

Raphael twists toward his brother with a snarl.  “Donnie, just how long 'ave you been over there?”

Donatello makes a small sound of thought before he responds.  “I did happen to arrive a few minutes prior to making my presence known.  And perhaps a moment sooner than you would have preferred company.  But by my calculations, I waited ample time for post-coital canoodling and arrived well within your refractory period in order to-”

“Refractory?" 

Donatello raises his hand and voice to enlighten his older brother about the male orgasm.  To which Raphael responds by flipping him off, with gusto.  

“Factor this.”

After a bit of colorful persuasion on Raphael’s part, Donatello makes his way out of the room.  Your fingers, conversely, make their way up the scutes of Raphael’s shell.

Raphael mumbles something under his breath as he slides his knee between yours.

"What’s that?”

He kisses you without urgency.  Your heart swells with the implication of his patience.  “I still gotta treat your shoulder.”

You give your consent against his lips.  You smooth your palms over the bumps of his shell.  “Later.”

He hums into your kiss, churrs under your touch, and holds you like he’ll never let you go.

@fukyouthink

So, this may not be the final chapter. I'm not thrilled with how it turned out. We'll see. Thank you all so much for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it.

#Raphael x Gender Neutral Reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #TMNT Raphael x gender neutral reader #reader insert #Scarlet Letters fic

[doctorhoe]

rating all the nuwho kisses (part 1: rtd era)

1. Rose and Mickey

a peg...on the lips.... it is cute on first sight but in retrospect it's just very bittersweet. probs noel and billie for managing to really make it look like a kiss between two people who have been dating for a long while. 4/10 it makes me sad

2. Rose and Jack

i love this kiss because while it's not romantic it still shows how much these two love and care for one another. they are still my official brotp of season 1 and you can’t take this away from me. 10/10 i,too, would let captain jack kiss me

3. Jack and Nine

can you believe that the first doctor/companion kiss in the revival was between two men?? and how it was full of mutual love and respect?? how it showed that jack loves all genders fully and equally?? 15/10 the way nine leans into the kiss makes me soft

4. Rose and Nine

this kiss redefined the meaning of love. just... everything here: ‘I think u need a doctor', the tender look in nine's eyes, how long we have been waiting for this moment. it is all so SOFT. this is by far my favorite dr.who kiss of all time. 1000/10 the final act of the time war was LOVE

5. Rose and Mickey - round 2

i'm sorry I thought u kids broke up..? seriously, rose, why keep leading him on?? this whole thing raises so many red flags, especially when he says I love you and she just responds with 'goodbye' (just wait till doomsday, rose, then you’ll know what that feels like *sobs*). like rose herself said in season 1: he deserves better!!! 0/10 they should have cut that out

6. Cassandra/Rose and Ten

ok ok. is it a good romantic kiss? no. does it make any sense? no. but is it a valuable tenrose moment? also no. BUT billie piper did us all a solid and we WILL be thankful for all eternity. 9/10 the fact that we didn't get a full shot of their bodies is homophobic

7. Reinette and Ten

i almost forgot this kiss because i usually just ignore that this episode exists. i hate everything about this but I don't have the energy nor the time to go on a rant. -5/10 good thing sexual assault charges weren't a thing in prerevolutionary france...

8. Jackie and Ten

Jackie could literally murder someone and I'd forgive her so I will also forgive her for kissing Ten despite him telling her not to (ok, now that i think about it: it’s kinda yikes-y) this is just comic relief and I needed that to get through the episode... 5/10 I can't believe this is how the two parter that destroyed my life started

9. Martha and Ten

even though tenmartha stan I have mixed feelings about this one as it is the start to a canonically very unhealthy relationship but also an amazing character arc about taking care of oneself and letting go of people that hurt us, even if we love them. I also like how the music swells so we as an audience can understand what Martha is feeling at this very moment. 7/10 'genetic transfer' my ass

10. Martha and Riley

i... almost forgot about this one lol. all i can really say here is gO GET IT MARTHA! 5/10 a sweet kiss of gratitude while the guy who should be grateful keeps you in the friendzone and compares you to their ex at the same time.

11. Joan and John

DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DI

-100/10 this is what my sleep paralysis demon looks like

12. Astrid and Ten

cool, i guess? gotta be honest i don’t care for this ep. but what makes me mad is that he just spend an entire season friendzoning martha just to go off and do this? fuck you, doctor. 4/10 did David kiss the air for this one?

13. Donna and Ten

like literally every interaction between donna and ten this, too, is pure comedy gold and i’m impressed that they managed to have a kiss between the two that so completely fits their whole dynamic. 10/10 harveywallbanger (one word) is still iconic to this day.

14. Rose and Ten(too)

i used to like this kiss better before t*rning of the t*de kinda ruined it for me. but you know what? i am so happy rose and a part of the doctor got their happy ending. shut up i am just a sucker for tenrose kisses and there aren’t enough of them. let me have this. 8/10 alexa play kissed by a rose

15. Lady Christina and Ten

so... unpopular opinion (?) but i really liked this ep. and i didn’t have anything against that kiss either. i wouldn’t have cared either way. i enjoyed the flirting throughout the ep because ten is just having a mental breakdown 24/7 at this point and it’s nice that she distracts him for a while. fun fact: she is the first brunette to ever kiss the tenth doctor and also the last. 6/10 moffat stole the whole ‘i hate u’ thing from this ep

#dw #doctor who #rose tyler #mickey smith #jack harkness #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #martha jones #joan redfern #donna noble #tenrose #ninerose #tenpetals #timepetals #doctor x rose #tenmartha #tendonna #nine x jack

[ngame989]

“Brew” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 6

Writing: @ngame989​

Art: @toxicpsychox​

Editing: @toxicpsychox​, @seddm​, an IRL friend

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: After close to a year on Earthni, Tom's been dragged back into the princely life, and it's a lot less exciting than he'd expected. With Star and Marco away on urgent business, can Janna help him turn a boring errand into a fun adventure?

Comic Page

Masterpost

This one’s a nice change of pace from the last two chapters, I think. TGG’s still a Starco-focused work, expect these to be the exception not the norm, but I think it’s important to strike a balance. See below for the text, hope you enjoy!

“No results.” Huh? Three eyes narrowed at the screen in frustration. Maybe a different search term? “No results.” Alright Tom, no big deal, man. Maybe you just spelled something wrong. Annnnnd… there. “No results.” How could there be nothing?

Tom leaned back in the chair and sighed, exercising restraint over the little anger demons inside him as he’d trained himself to do. In the past he’d needed a physical bunny to pet if he wanted even a hope of keeping his cool, but at this point suppressing the urge was such reflex that most would think he just had a regular Mewman quick temper and nothing more in all but the most extreme of conditions, but he was getting pretty close to that point now. Grandpa Relicor’s study had everything, or so he thought, but this was the first time he could ever remember being here where it come up short. He’d checked every shelf, everything he could think in the computer, had even fireblasted a few of the shelves just to see if there were any hidden switches or anything. Even Relicor had been at a loss and had been screeching in distress on the floor for long enough that Tom’s brain had graciously tuned it out. What could be so important about this book his mom needed? He hadn’t even had time to change his casual graphic tee from a cartoon he liked, simply tossing his maroon jacket over it before heading out at his mother’s behest. He wasn’t one to say no to her, but it had been hours since he’d shown up here and he was no closer to figuring this out than he had been this morning.

Suddenly his phone buzzed, displaying the familiar beaming face of his ex-girlfriend close up to the camera. A toothy grin erupted as he picked it up, holding the phone up for a video feed. “Heya, Starship.”

“Hey, Tom!” Star beamed into the camera. “How’s it hanging? Long time no see. So,” she rambled out in one breath, “I may have a teensie weensie wittle problem.” She backed up to reveal her hair in complete disarray, sans horns, and black marks all over her light blue dress. Before Tom could even ask the question, her other hand held up charred fragments of her headband. “Someone still hasn’t learned how to use an Earth oven properly!” she forced out through gritted teeth.

“Look, gurl, I said I was like, so sorry! All the Cloud Kingdom kitchens are powered by glitter and horn blasts, like that’s just how ovens are supposed to be, that is all I am saying here,” Ponyhead’s indignant voice chimed in from behind, punctuated by a snort.

“Anyway, we just finished putting out the fires and I need a new headband and their website says they’re almost out of stock and I’ve wanted to show Marco around the Underworld for a while and- wait, is that screeching in the background? Where are you?”

Tom shuffled away from the elder demon still writhing on the floor and cleared his throat. “Just in Grandpa’s study trying to find something for my mom, she really wants it today. I don’t know if I can go- but I can still send the carriage for you guys, if you want.”

“Do you need help with that?” Marco inquired as he peeked his head into the frame, casually wrapping an arm around Star.

“Naaaah, no big deal,” Tom shrugged. “You two should go, though! I can just fly over whenever I finish this.”

Star and Marco looked at each other hesitantly. “Alright,” she said. “Carriage to our house in maybe five minutes?” A fire alarm went off behind her followed by a scream from Ponyhead and an even girlier one from Marco. “Maybe ten,” Star sighed, burying her face in her free hand.

“You got it,” Tom chuckled.

“OK, bye!” Star said with relief before hanging up. He rolled his shoulders from inside his jacket and ran his hands through his hair before stepping into the main foyer, taking advantage of the space to summon the carriage and its horses, the incantations coming effortlessly to him. Demons had been fortunate enough to retain their powers on Earthni, but the location underground and the relative lack of portaling methods available left them even more isolated than previously. While most of the other kingdoms had dissolved or integrated into a loose coalition of government covering all of the Echo Creek area, the Underworld had been content to stay completely under the banner of Lord and Lady Lucitor, and Tom found himself pitching in more and more in his role as Prince. In truth, he would have appreciated the company his friends were offering, but he knew how much it had meant to Star to be able to give this life up, and he didn’t want to drag her - either of them, really, considering Marco had earned an official title on Mewni himself - back into the boring thick of regal errands. Was Prince Thomas Draconius Lucitor really going to let some stuffy old book collection get the best of him? Hah, as if.

With a flick of his wrist, the half-demon shuttled the carriage to the surface in a pillar of flame, barely looking and instead pulling out his new phone. He was still getting the hang of the new and improved Reflectacorp’s Earth tech integration, but he’d at least learned how to open yesterday’s text conversation thread from its new message notification.

Janna: anti-gravity potion attempt 4 failed. affected bottle glass itself and launched into sky. note to self: work under roof. star and marco’s suggestions didnt work either. not all bad though, it went towards cloud kingdom lol

Tom: careful, don’t hit pony’s ego and make it fly even higher ·;) btw pony + starco are going shopping in underworld soon. im stuck working for mom though.

Janna: stores r lame. even in underworld. and srsly dude u gotta stop using starfans dumb name for them. otoh it bugs them so actually nvm go 4 it

Tom: it was mine first >��:( it saves letters when they’re together!

Janna: which is always

Tom: exactly. speaking of which, they’re here ttyl

Star stepped out of the carriage in a nice white polka dotted green dress, quickly followed by Marco, the pair’s fingers remaining intertwined until they gave him a hello hug, and Tom honestly wasn’t sure they’d stopped holding hands even then. Ponyhead burst out a moment later with her phone floating in front of her pointed at herself, and she was in the middle of a monologue to no one in particular.

“-so yeah anyway as you all can see we have now arrived in the Underwoooorld. So yeah this is, like, basically the best place on all of Earthni to go shopping as I’ll be showing you today. Oh yeah, I guess some demon boys live here too. Oh my goodness, say hello you guuuys,” she rolled her eyes as she butted in between Star and Tom, side-eyeing him for a split second before grinning back into the camera. After all this time Pony still hadn’t dropped the passive aggression over his and Star’s messy history; Tom had to admit it was a bit understandable, but did she really have to keep it up in such an annoying way? He rolled his eyes - it was Ponyhead he was thinking about here. “OK, the Ponyhead Experience will be taking a short break. Tune back in soon! Love y’all, buhbye!” She snapped the phone shut and caught it with her tongue. “Ugh, why do all of my vlogs with you dorks get like ten times as many viewers? Tom, you were in the shot for like three seconds and do you know what happened? 2000 more people tuned in! What the heck! It’s like, just because I have one less horn and one less eye I’m not exciting to you? But I can’t stay mad at my adooooring fans.”

“Must be the Lucitor charm.” He flashed a toothy smile and a pair of finger guns at her, accidentally flinging his phone across the room in the process. “Totally planned,” he blurted out with a much less authentic grin. Marco chuckled and picked it up, handing it back and patting him mock-sympathetically on the shoulder while holding back a smirk.

Star giggled but tapped her foot impatiently, looking around the room nervously. “OK, great catching up, but on the way here I checked the website and the headband shop is almost out of stock! We have to go, now! Let’s move it, people! Tom, can we borrow the carriage for the day?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Fine by me.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou, you’re the best!”

“You sure you don’t need anything?” Marco inquired again.

“You heard the girl, Marco, my audience wants to see us get our shop on!”

Tom blew a raspberry, pushing them towards the carriage. “Relax, it’s nothing. I’m practically done already! Tooootally almost done!”

Marco finally relented, nodding his assent. Star was bouncing up and down so much that she looked ready to launch around the room. He giggled as she wrapped both her arms around his middle and kissed his cheek before hauling him the rest of the way into the carriage. “C’mon boo, mama needs a new pair of horns. Plus we can get whatever you need, too! I saw a few things in the catalog that would look preeeetty good on you,” she sing-songed, walking two fingers up his chest to boop his nose after they plopped down onto the seat together. Ponyhead mimed vomiting at Tom, who silently laughed in response; they were so engrossed with each other that Tom was fairly certain they wouldn’t have noticed even if he’d shouted his laughter, though. He blankly stared at the spot the carriage had been for a few seconds after it exited in a blaze.

“Pretty gross, right?” Tom started and launched a fireball in the direction of the voice, hovering away from the intruder. A split second after, his vision caught up with his instincts and saw Janna in her usual green shirt and beanie and yellow skirt, sans jacket, nonchalantly sidestep the flame. “You do the same thing every time, you really need to work on that,” she chided with her arms crossed and a devious smirk on her face.

He rubbed his temple and gestured at her in sullen disbelief. “How did you-”

“Roof of the carriage.”

“Huh.” An eyebrow up in surprise, studying her expression. “You never usually, you know, answer that.”

She shrugged, kicking a boot into the hard stone floor. “Whatever, guess I’m just bored. Besides, half the reason I do that is to get a rise out of Marco,” she slyly snickered, and Tom couldn’t help but join in. “Alright, demon boy, what adventure are we going on today?”

Tom crossed his arms apprehensively. “Just trying to find a book for my mom, not really much of an adventure.”

“Like I said, dude, I’m bored and shopping is dumb. I don’t mind hanging out here for a study session or whatever, your family’s got great taste in decor.” She picked a skull off the ground and tossed it back and forth between her hands. He grinned back at her, grateful for the company. “So what kind of creepy curses are in this book?”

The pair started walking back into the study as their conversation continued. “Don’t think there are any. It’s called ‘Historia Homewnum’, according to my mom, so it’s probably a history book but that’s all I know.”

“Darn. Demon history’s bound to be pretty cool, though.”

“You’d be surprised how little actually happens down here, it’s just a lot of maintenance. Last month the most important thing I did was a ribbon-cutting ceremony at a new boba cornshake shop, it’s really caught on here since the Cleaving. But man is it good! Marco was right, the little pearls are just so tasty, I like the creamed corn version best.”

“What is it with you and corn, seriously...” Janna shuddered.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it.” He knew he’d gotten distracted thinking about the delicious creamy beverage, but that didn’t seem like an adequate reason to look so horrified, especially coming from Janna. Not able to figure out any other reason she might be disgusted by his comments, he got his thoughts back on track. “Really don’t know why she wants this thing so much. Anyway, I already checked the entire study for it, and the search archives don’t have anything either. Oh well, what can you do, might as well just give up and-”

“Found something,” Janna piped up, somehow already in the computer chair with her feet on the desk.

“Really? How?” he asked incredulously, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis.

“OK, I didn’t actually find the book, but maybe we should check this place out.” He leaned into the screen to see a Mewgle search for ‘how to find weird book in underworld’ on the screen.

“I already tried that, Janna!”

“Yeah, but your antivirus was blocking this link to some place called the ‘Librarinth’.”

Tom slammed his palm into his forehead. “Of course, the Librarinth! How could I not think to look there, that’s where all the oldest books are. Why was it getting blocked?”

She clicked on the link and both recoiled at the sight: an abhorrent patterned background with almost unreadable randomly colored text and low quality cartoon images scattered all around the page. “Yeah, it’s awful,” she said in response to his obvious horror. “Seriously, whoever must made this website must be, like, a thousand years old.”

“Probably , yeah, but why does that have anything to do with-” His eyes widened in realization as he clapped his hands together in contemplation. “Right, humans and their lifespans. Go on.”

“Look.”

She scrolled past the despondent, blurry faces of demons of all shapes and sizes in the staff section until she arrived at the catalog, folding her arms triumphantly. Tom excitedly butted in, typing into the search box and being greeted with a loading wheel. “Uh, Janna? It’s not working.”

“Pfft, yeah, I might actually be dead by the time the search finishes. But that doesn’t matter because they have our book. It’s the header image for the whole catalog.” He squinted and brought his face closer to the monitor, and to his surprise the title was clear as day on the cover of the book, although all the other information was too difficult to make out. “Alright, let’s go. Main page says the Librarinth is on Floor 216.”

With a snap of his fingers, the demon elevator was summoned into a bookshelf much as it had been the day they had dealt with the Blood Moon. Relicor’s shrieking, which had slowed to a whimper since they’d left, resumed in full; fortunately they began descending, which quickly put them out of earshot. Tom awkwardly stretched his arms, unsure what exactly to say. She was his friend, yes, but he was never the best at small talk, and Janna being Janna didn’t make that any easier. After long, messy years of broken hearts and misguided feelings, he finally felt comfortable forging friendships, but even though they got along quite well there was something about Janna that made that vibe a lot less effortless than with Marco or even Star. Thoughts of his other friends reminded him of something. “Uh, by the way… how did you even know about the carriage earlier?”

“A girl’s gotta keep some secrets.”

“Pony was posting about it every 15 seconds,” he guessed, calling Janna’s bluff.

“Touché. Every 10, though,” she coolly responded. “Ha, now she’s just flipping out because Star and Marco have way more likes than her selfies.”

“Figured you’d have him bugged or something,” Tom chuckled as he scooted over to get a look at Janna’s screen, and sure enough there was a picture collage of Star sitting in Marco’s lap with tens of thousands of likes and comments already. They were laughing their butts off at themselves in a mirror in front of them with novelty sunglasses, fake mustaches, goofy props, and even a few absurd full-body costumes; Ponyhead joined the fun for a few but just as often butt in trying to take over the mirror by herself.

“Ew, no, I disabled it all months ago. Boyfriend Tom was already too cutesy for me, and you two just had a little flirty fling. Do you think I’d really want to see or hear whatever Star and Marco have going on? They’re, like, deeply in love, or whatever, and it’s gotten even worse in the last few weeks.”

He murmured in tacit agreement. Now that he thought about it, they had seemed even more affectionate than usual, but he wasn’t too keen on uncovering why that might be. The ding of the elevator saved him from any further speculation, and he and Janna stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, which was empty with cobwebs coating most of the weathered stone walls. Janna looked at him with a quizzical expression. “Anyway, so the Librarinth is basically a combination of a library and a labyrinth-”

“Right, I got that,” she curtly retorted.

“The legends say that some ancient librarian demons wanted to challenge any who sought knowledge, so they hid all the books in a giant maze that only the worthy could navigate. But everyone who made it still decided to organize it thoroughly for some reason, and you still had to check out the books and bring them back and all that.”

She ran a finger over the dust on the front counter, and the surface of the desk sizzled in response, causing her to pull her hand back before poking the bubbles that formed with a curious smile. “So why is it completely empty?”

Tom rubbed the back of his neck. “Weeeeeeell, after a few people went missing or insane, everyone realized it really wasn’t a great way to, you know, run a library. Grandpa actually started collecting books to try and get them away from this place. No one really knows what goes on in there, but as far as I know it’s still maintained even though no one uses it. The kingdom stopped staffing the lobby but they could never just shut it down because anyone who tried, well-”

“Went missing or insane. Sounds cool, I’m in.”

“You sure?”

“Dude, you brought me to a wicked hell maze filled with psychotic demon nerds. Maybe there’ll be bottomless pits or a wicked dungeon boss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Mr. Lucitor,” she purred, running a finger up his chest and flicking his nose.

“Haha, very funny. And it’s Prince Lucitor,” he sarcastically chided, poking her arm in response before crossing the room with her following, but he couldn’t help but hide that he was flustered. Seeing Star and Marco’s relationship in the past year had reinforced his already-firm convictions about romance: he wanted someone with whom he could be life partners in all ways, not just handholding and rooftop picnics. Otherwise, what would be the point? He’d made that mistake enough times, and even just a light jab at the notion of him casually flirting struck made him feel self-conscious about that past. Finally his reflection was halted when he found what he sought: a large wrought iron door furnished with ornate demonic symbols and various carvings of mythological creatures dwarfed them both. With a soft, steady flame for light, he brought his hand up and ran it over the rusty engravings. He jumped back with a gasp as the fire spread into the lines of the door, lighting up the patterns on it and causing it to creak as it slowly opened.

“Nice,” Janna muttered in awe before strolling inside, with Tom hesitantly following. She was the most eager of their little group to dive headfirst into the unknown, even more than Star most of the time, but he trusted her gut.

They started walking down the long, cramped hallways, hearing only the sound of their own footsteps on the cold floor. Janna peeked her head into a small doorway that appeared to their left, earning herself an explosive blast to the face and getting knocked onto her butt. Tom slammed the door shut and leaned in to read an inscription next to it. “Incinerator for any books too damaged or damaging for further use. Probably not the right place.”

Janna huffed, brushing herself off and finding scraps of paper among the char. “I can see that. Seriously, what kind of labyrinth labels its doors?”

“Maybe one run by book nerds,” Tom offered, gripping her hand to help her up.

“So it’s just as bad at being a labyrinth as it is a library. Neat. Great adventure.”

Tom pressed on, keeping his focus ahead of them. “Hey, I’m just here to help my mom. You’re the one that said you were fine with anything.”

“Fine, fine. Just saying, I could be working on my potions or something.” She pulled a glass bottle full of purple liquid from her skirt pocket and casually tossed it at a wall. Janna snickered at Tom’s yelp when it shattered, but found herself joining him in backing away when a chunk of stone quickly deteriorated and slammed into the ground at incredible speed. She went over and carefully kicked a pebble, finding it impossible to even budge. “See, this was just a stupid pro-gravity potion. Worthless.”

He leaned against the stable wall opposite the hole, sighing. “I’m sure there has to be something interesting here. What if we, I dunno, make it a competition or something?” His frustration with both the situation and Janna were there, yes, but he still wanted to try and get something fun out of the day.

“Go on,” Janna said, eyes flickering up from the bottle that she was tossing between her hands nonchalantly.

OK, maybe he should have thought further ahead. His arms flailed as he scrambled to come up with an idea. “OK, so, uh, whoever finds the weirdest thing in this place in the next hour wins. Just call them out if you think you found something. Or whoever finds the book, whichever comes first, yeah. Mom still needs it.”

“Momma’s boy. I respect that. You’re on, Tom.” Janna cocked an eyebrow, staring at him for a second before pushing off the wall into a sprint, opening the first door she could find. “Empty. Another empty. Three empties, dammit.”

Tom used his flight to travel more smoothly from door to door on his side of the corridor, but still found himself losing ground as he took the time to read the sign posted by each threshold. The ‘Demonic Studies’ room had a very ornately ghoulish aesthetic, with macabre skeletal models throughout. Definitely something to show Janna on the way out just for the aesthetic, and it’d have been weird for most humans, but it wasn’t any more abnormal than what the two of them were used to as a daily routine. Another room for astronomy had an exquisite planetarium dome, but it turned out to be rather useless as the Underworld did not, in fact, contain any stars since it was underground. There was, however, a plentiful selection of guides to stalactites stocked on the shelves. The next four whole sections were devoted to anger management self-help books, which only made him waste precious seconds cringing at old memories.

His pace picked up as he kept going from door to door finding nothing but normal library fare, although he had to admit it was certainly well-maintained. On any other day he might actually enjoy some of the things here, but today he was on a mission to get out of here so they could actually have fun elsewhere.

‘Bookworms’... now that had potential. What sorts of hybrid creatures could lurk behind the inches of wood? “I think I might have found something!” he shouted, throwing open the door only to receive a harsh shushing. Within were only elderly demons in cozy sweaters reading by candlelight, all now glaring at him with an intensity that reminded him of his mom’s own rare reprimands. “Never mind,” he loud-whispered back out into the hall as he gently closed the door and found Janna in a nearby corridor. “Ugh, why is there nothing interesting here?” Sparks trailed behind him from his mounting anger as he paced.

“Tell me about it, even ‘Wormbooks’ was just a bunch of regular novels, somehow,” she sighed. “I was hoping for a big long chain of open books slithering around on the ground, now there’s a party.” She slumped down against the wall next to the streak of flame he’d left on the ground, idly stamping it out with her boot until Tom sat down beside her.

“Wouldn’t a wormbook be the opposite? A big fat worm in the shape of a book?”

“Nah, it’d totally be a book made of a bunch of little flatworms all working together, duh. Still pretty lame.”

OK, now he knew something was up with her. “Janna, is- is something wrong?”

Her body slouched further down until she was almost horizontal on the cold floor, staring ahead of her like a zombie. “Being weird has just felt so pointless lately. Everything’s weird now, all the time! I’m wasting all my time trying to brew potions when there’s a shop that sells them on every corner. I got so bored that I even passed that same dumb test Marco did and now I’m done with high school, like, for real this time.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, that’s pretty impressive.”

“It’s easy if you know who to blackmail.” Tom blinked a few times, not sure why he’d expected anything different. “Everyone else is moving on with their lives, but I’m still feeding the same old possums and picking up the same old tennis balls. The whole point of my routine is that it’s different, it’s me, it’s my Jannanigans or whatever Star calls it, but it’s just not the same. I’m still into all that stuff, and Earthni’s actually really cool, but… ugh.” With that, her head fully sunk to the ground.

Tom brought his palms together over her head, opening and shutting his hands while wiggling his fingers around. “It’s a wormbook,” he said hesitantly, not really sure what he was doing. It was silly amusement, but perhaps that was just what she needed right now. Janna frowned and rolled her eyes, so he snapped at her arm with his hand puppet wormbook a few times.

“Alright, I get it,” she barked out, but her sullen demeanor slowly cracked under the onslaught of frivolity as she sat back up with an unusually ponderous look at him.

“Remember that time you took me bootsledding?” She nodded. “You told me that I needed to find a life outside of Star, and- and it was really great advice. Didn’t mean I still couldn’t like spending time with Star or anything, heck, I still do! But I just needed to get out of that rut of depending on it. Maybe you just need to do that, too. If doing your weirdness by yourself is normal, then adding something normal might be kinda weird.”

“That’s it.” Janna leapt to her feet, looking very suddenly invigorated. “That’s it!”

“Well, uh, glad you liked it. It was nothing, really, just trying to be a good pal-”

“Yeah, yeah, that too,” she waved dismissively, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit scorned. “If weird is normal then normal is weird. We were looking for the craziest things we could find here, but everything that should have been weird was normal, so we should be looking for the most painfully boring room here!” All three of Tom’s eyes blinked a few times as her words sunk in. Could it be…? “Tom, over here!” He hustled over to a particularly plain wooden door. Janna pointed at the plaque on the wall, which was far more faded than the others had been. “Look. ‘Government Records’.”

A burst of energy coursed through Tom’s blood, sparking life in him once more, and he could see the same reflected in Janna’s determined brown eyes. “And the book Mom wanted has something to do with history. Maybe it’s political history! Janna, you might be a genius!”

“Pfft, ‘might’. Now we just gotta…” She grabbed his arm, aiming it at the door, and he looked at her incredulously. “C’mon, dude, who knows what’s behind there. We’re gonna bust in with a demon blast, duh. Pew-pew!”

He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lip turning up in a begrudging smile gave away his agreement. The pair aimed at the door and blew it off its hinges before charging in through the smoke.

“I see you two have finally solved the grand riddle of the Librarinth!” A deep, booming voice greeted them from the smoke. “Janna Ordonia, Thomas Lucitor, you certainly took your time. I expected you to book it here much more quickly. No matter, for this room shall be your tome!”

“How do you know my-” Janna stammered.

“Uh, don’t you mean tomb-” Tom started at the same time before realizing the wordplay and groaning in misery. Wait a second… Epic threats, an obvious personality quirk…

“Dungeon boss!” the teens cheered together, glancing back and forth between each other and the remainder of the room in front of them obscured by shadow.

“It is I, the bookkeeper of this place. I guard the most sacred treasure of all… knowledge!” Paper rustled loudly, echoed throughout the cavernous space, far taller and wider than Tom had noticed when they first entered with a massive array of bookshelves many times taller than him in a single row near the back wall. The ground beneath them began to shake and Tom tossed a puff of light in front of him, exposing the wide chasm that had just opened up in the ground, swallowing all the shelving in the room. Neither were prepared for the sight that greeted them: a coiled mass unfurled from the abyss and slithering with purpose along the ground, finally raising itself up to stand at fifteen feet tall, swaying back and forth with enough force to create an artificial wind within the space. A closer look showed that the body was made of some peculiar segments of… books, of all shapes and sizes. The volume at the top of the chain was much larger and far more ornately embossed than the others, and on the blood red surface of the cover Tom could make out a set of eyes. As the picture became more and more clear, he could finally see what they were up against. Now THIS is a bookworm.

“Aren’t libraries supposed to be, like, public and free?” Janna blithely inquired.

“You are correct, child, but perhaps try reporting that to your friend there! The Lucitor family is the sworn enemy of this great Librarinth! That fiend Relicor pilfered our collection for his own use for millennia, and the rest tried to shut this place down for good. But worst of all, in the most egregious display of contempt I have witnessed since the dawn of writing itself… Prince Lucitor and his ilk have amassed twenty-six dollars in unpaid fees!”

The tension in the room nearly evaporated in a heartbeat as Tom and Janna paused momentarily before bursting out into raucous laughter.

“Seriously, dude? I could just, like, repay it.” He fumbled in his pockets for his wallet for a moment before being interrupted once more.

“Do not condescend to me, children! It is far too late to make up for these sins with mere currency. Revenge is my fee most overdue, now prepare to meet… Overdoom! I shall harness the power of the written word to spell your demise!”

Books were hurled from the depths of the crevice en masse. Tom stepped in front of Janna to blast them away, but they had taken on a life of their own and homed in on him, covers flapping in the air like wings. Behind Tom, Janna snatched one out of the air to thwart a flank attack. She grabbed his left arm and pointed it up, tapping his elbow frantically. He spared a glance and saw the paper tornado coalescing, and understood her intention. Demon flames surged out of both hands with Janna calling the shots for the left side and Tom focusing on his right. They used the opportunity to back up to a wall, letting them cover every attack vector but creating a stalemate they were sure to lose in time as the seemingly endless offense droned on. Overdoom for the time being simply floated out of the abyss, glaring harshly at them as more and more papers kept emerging.

“Wait, Tom, look…” Still using his hand, she pointed to a shelf that had fallen at an odd angle and hadn’t collapsed into the abyss. There was a large, torn-up poster on which he could barely make out the word “Historia”.

“That might be it,” he breathed out, starting to feel the burn from minutes of nonstop vigilant defensive demon blasts. Oddly, none of the books in that corner were joining the assault. Almost as if...

“It’s making them magical in the chasm.” Tom’s heart leapt up in his chest at the revelation, hope and adrenaline mixing in his veins to keep him fully alert. But charging in was a suicide mission and they clearly couldn’t win on raw firepower.

“Have you had enough? Are you children yet ready to come scrawling on your hands and knees to a-tome for the sins of your forefathers?” the imposing figure growled, bristling impatiently.

“Did it seriously just use the tome pun again?” Janna griped, running her hands past her eyes and down her cheeks in disgust. “For a word nerd, that’s just awful.”

“Yeah…” Tom absent-mindedly responded. He knew she was right, though. Book, tome, scrawl… even if the creature’s summoning powers were off the charts, and it wielded them with calculated ease, its cocky wordplay taunts left something to be desired. It struck him then: what if they’d been approaching this all wrong? If the battle couldn’t be won by blows, then they had to find another option, and Tom was ready to put his plan into action.

He quickly shook off Janna’s rather tight grip on his arm and stepped forward, mustering up a confident expression masking any fears he still had left. “Nice try, Overdoom. Your words aren’t scaring us. Learn to read the room!”

Its “body” immediately began wiggling violently in the air as it crawled a bit forward towards them. Tom paid careful attention to its back end, which had climbed a few feet out of the ground in the move. “How dare you! Petulant brats!” Literary fire and brimstone rained down upon them with more fury than ever, and the two backed up into a corner which was the best they could do in a room largely devoid of any cover.

“What the hell-” Janna whispered through gritted teeth. Tom wriggled his tail out and waved it in front of Janna’s face momentarily. “Now is not the time to-” She was cut off when a barrage of index cards launched at them with enough force to somehow chip the stone behind them on impact. Tom forcefully nodded his head towards the worm’s tail, waggling his own once again. Her eyes lit up much like his had and she nodded in understanding.

“Come on, is that the best you got? I’ve heard them all before, at least give us something novel!”

Janna stood beside him, and her grimace even managed to spook Tom a bit. “I’d alphabet you couldn’t do better even if you tried!” Not what he would’ve gone with, but hey, if it helped tick Overdoom off then who was he to say no?

“You can talk up a storm all you want, but no matter what volume of air you blow, all I feel is a not-so-rough draft!”

“ENOUGH!” Overdoom’s tail launched out of the chasm faster than either could follow, crossing the room in a heartbeat. Tom shoved Janna out of the way before it wrapped itself around him, dragging him much more slowly towards the abyss. His jacket and jeans mercifully protected the paper edges pressing into him, but it was still a painfully tight squeeze that left him gasping for air. His arms were uselessly pinned inside the embrace as he was dragged headfirst, but their hypothesis had been proven correct as all the books around them had dropped to the ground lifeless.

“Tom!” Janna called out. He strained his head to see she’d removed her beanie and had something purple in her hand that she lobbed at that moment. Through the haze of pain he recognized it as another of her potions. The arc was due to miss until he summoned his energy reserves and redirected it with a weak burst of flame from his boot. Though the glass was durable enough to not melt or shatter, the demonic heat changed the potion into a bubbling olive green milliseconds before it contacted a random segment of the behemoth they were fighting. All at once, its hold on Tom and the rest of its body went limp as it began floating lazily into the air before bouncing off the ceiling a few times like a balloon. Janna ran over and helped Tom up as Overdoom screamed inarticulately from many feet above. They traversed the chaotic mess towards the pile they’d spotted previous. After some digging around, he found ‘Historia Homewnum’ miraculously unscathed and protected by a large, sturdy slab of mahogany that had fallen flat on top of it. “I got it!”

“Cool, potion is wearing off. We need to go.” Janna calmly stated. Twin jets of fire erupted from his feet as he swiftly passed the book to Janna and scooped her up in his arms, carrying them across the room towards the door. After setting Janna down, he hesitated for a moment as she stood in the doorway.

“Do you think I should still pay the late fee? I feel kinda bad and-”

“TODAY MAY HAVE BEEN YOUR VICTORY, BUT TOME-ORROW WILL-”

Tom sighed in resignation with a very unimpressed expression. “OK, yeah, never mind.” And with a quick slam of the door, they were both out scot-free. They didn’t stop running until they arrived back at the elevator. Once inside, they slumped down onto the ground as they began the journey back up to the main surface of the Underworld.

“Woo!” Tom was caught off guard by Janna expressing visible joy, and it was immediately infectious. “Now that’s an adventure. Of course, demon fire is what makes the potions work. Makes a lot more sense. Stupid ink smudge, I burned all those lemons for nothing.” He belly laughed, falling over to the floor and clutching his gut as Janna kicked him in the arm.

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help it.”

Her foot backed off after one last good hit. “So now you just have to give that book to your mom?”

“Yeah, should only take a minute. Want to come with?”

“Dude, she’s half a story tall and cries lava. I’d be honored. Oh crud, Pony’s current stream title is ‘WHY Y’ALL CARE MORE ABOUT EARTH TURD AND B-FLY THAN ME?!?!’” Janna showed him the notification on her phone. “That can’t be good.”

Tom pulled out his phone and called to see what was up. Pony picked up after only one ring and didn’t even bother with a greeting as she screamed so loudly that he lost hearing for a moment in his right ear. Her voice carried through the elevator car even without being put on speakerphone. “Yo Tom, why do all my Pony Pals just want to watch those two idiots kiss and cuddle? What is up with that? I even gave my fanbase a stupid nickname, they eat that stuff up, so why won’t they looooove meeeeee?” Business as usual with Pony, it seemed. “An-y-way, this whole shopping spree was amaaaazing, I am all kinds of extra fabulous now. B-Fly and Earth Turd took over the stream cuz the viewers, like, wanted a Q&A sesh but I’m only giving them twenty minutes! Hmph!”

“Might as well just make a whole show about them,” Janna chimed in, rolling her eyes a few times for good measure.

“Wait, demon boy, is Janna there? What the heck have you two been getting up to? Don’t tell me you too are getting your freak on too, I could not handle that T.M.I.-”

Yeah, there was nothing more to gain from that conversation. Tom flipped his compact shut, disconnecting the call. Wait, ‘too’? Did she mean- he shuddered involuntarily. You know what, nope, just not going to think about that one.

“So glad I turned off the cameras,” Janna mumbled, curling up into a ball on the floor, clearly not wanting to touch that whole situation either.

He opted to make contact with the other group via Marco instead - why he hadn’t just done that in the first place, he’d never know - and sent a quick text. “Marco wants to get dinner at the Waterfolk Kingdom in, like, an hour and a half. Apparently Star found some earrings she wanted at the last minute, and Pony got arrested for shoplifting three seconds after I hung up.”

Janna cackled in response. “Let’s just meet them there. My jacket got ripped to shreds by the possums last week, might as well get a new one while I’m down here. Been thinking about changing it up. I kinda like that style.” She lifted up his arm and poked at a button on the sleeve of his own.

“Uh, yeah, sure, I can show you where I got it.” He stumbled over his words, still caught off guard by this new normal-person-Janna. The elevator dinged and the teens began their trek through the Lucitor castle in search of the queen. “So, the Librarinth... we’re definitely going back there at some point, right?”

“Totally, bet’s still not over. We should do this more often, you’re not so bad a friend.”

“You too, and yeah, we should.” Looking back on the day, it had honestly been one some of the most fun he’d had in a while, despite almost dying at least once. Tom still wasn’t sure what to make of this friendship brewing between them, but if it meant more days like this to look forward to? Maybe he could get used to that.

#jantom #starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #tgg svtfoe #fanfic