#bane got to be complex for once

[buckybabieboy]

You’re five are so good!! EXACTLY what I’ve been looking for!!! I just read your list of headcanons and I would LOVE a full length fic about what happened the first time he got overstimulated and used his safe word (and all of that lovely aftercare that followed). If you have time of course, no pressure!

I'M BACK!!!!! and you are so sweet babie, made me smile🥹. thx for your request and I hope you like ur fic <3

Plum. (Pt. 1)

⚠️TW: (please read!): SO MUCH NSFW!!! LIKE 2 AND 1/2 ROUNDS LMAO, sub!inexperienced!bucky, dom!fem!reader, a little bit of a mean!reader, thigh riding!!, overstimulation(m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, mentions of subspace, mommy/mama kink, use of “y/n”, bucky calls you "babe" once or twice, use of safeword, TONS of aftercare <3

☁️Summary: After a bad day outside and an incident with Bucky, you catch an inexperienced!bucky pathetically humping your pillow. Your sadistic thoughts cause you to get carried away. Bucky's up to it at first, just wanting you to make him feel good. But as the night goes on he begins to realize he was in over his head. (Bucky’s first time being overstimulated and uses safeword!!)

📝 Important A/N!!: I exceeded my character limit (lol). I had to divide this whole fic into two parts, so pls stay tuned for part 2 (dropping soon)! Part 2 will be where the actual overstimulation takes place. Also I added thigh riding because it just made the whole plot imo😩. THERE IS SO MUCH FUCKING DETAIL IN HERE I LOWKEY OVERDID IT LMAOOOO

Traffic is the bane of your existence. You’re usually a very patient person, but when you’re stuck behind ten cars and a red light that just won’t seem to turn green, your patience suddenly becomes none.

There were a million things you wanted to accomplish before the day was finished. Your laundry and Bucky's still needed to be washed, and no matter how many times you reminded Bucky how the washing machine worked, he would continue to give you that bewildered and helpless face, leaving you to do it by yourself. On top of that, you left the apartment a mess. You secretly hope Bucky cleaned around the house while you were gone, though you weren’t counting on it.

Horns blow from different cars amongst the street, as if that would speed the agonizing waiting process up. You let out a huge sigh of relief when the light turns green, finally making your turn to your apartment complex. Once you’ve parked the car, you trudge your way to the apartment. Before unlocking the door, you make an effort to collect yourself so you don’t take you anger out on Bucky.

You can’t stop yourself from letting out another sigh in relief; you were finally home from your long and rough day outside. And to your surprise, the apartment is now squeaky clean. The floor had been swept and vacuumed, and was shined from being mopped. Dropping your purse on the kitchen counter, you kick of your shoes and let your hair down from the tight ponytail it’s been in all day.

“Bucky, I’m home!” You call out as you scavenge the pantry for a snack. Not even a second later, footsteps were coming towards you, and before you can even open your bag of chips, Bucky has dashed to your side and was holding you tight in his arms.

“y/n, your back!”

“hey, Jamie!” You plaster on a smile, trying to reciprocate his energy. His face is still buried in your neck, his hands tangled in your hair.

“missed you.” Bucky whines as he inhales the scent of your perfume. “why’d you have to leave me every day?”

Bucky was clinging to you as if he hadn’t seen you in years. His clinginess was undoubtedly caused because of Steve. He hadn’t been the same since he left, and you understood this better than anyone. You try to relax in his embrace, and allow him to hold you for as long as he needed.

“I'm not even gone for that long, Bucky.” You giggle as you try to enjoy the one good part of your day. “c’mon, let me get changed. I’m tired and had a really rough day.” You whisper to him softly. He nods and begins to free you from his arms.

“ow!” You wail suddenly, scrunching your face in pain. Multiple strands of hair had gotten caught on Bucky’s vibranium arm.

“sorry! let me just-” Bucky tries to disconnect your hair from his fingers, but only makes the situation worse by tangling them deeper towards your scalp.

“Bucky, just stop it!”

You drop your unopened bag of chips on the counter before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bathroom mirror. You begin untangling his fingers from your hair slowly, letting out a wince every so often, but finally managing to free his metal fingers from your hair.

“Y/n, didn’t meant to-”

“s’fine. just gonna brush my hair now.” You exhale before grabbing the brush and detangling your hair. Although you’d never show it to your very oblivious Bucky, this was your last straw today. You slam the bathroom door in his face in a fit of anger. Ignoring how badly you immediately felt afterwards, you attempt to calm yourself down.

“It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault.” You tell yourself as you struggle to comb out the knots in your hair. After you finished with your hair and wash up, you quickly pass through the bedroom, catching a quick glance at Bucky before you pass. He’s sound asleep on the bed, sprawled out like a dog on your sheets. Clad in only briefs, his pale and plush thighs were exposed just for you to see.

Trying to stop your mind from wandering into other places, you decide to use this time for yourself to forget about the unfortunate day you’ve had. Without another thought, you throw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and turn on some Adult-Swim, doing your best to cloud your mind.

You must’ve been there for over an hour, because before you knew it, it was already 8:00 pm. A yawn escapes from your throat as you clean up and head to your bedroom.

You’re about to open the door when you hear what sounds like faint moans coming from the other side, along with rhythmic creaks from the bed.

As you lean your ear against the door and listen for Bucky's pitiful whimpers, filthy and nasty thoughts start to flood your mind. You open the door a crack, just enough to see Bucky frantically rutting his bare cock against your pillow, which cemented your suspicions. The sight was truly pathetic. His boxer briefs were slung around his ankles, and his brown hair clung to his sweaty forehead. He continues to fuck your pillow without noticing you, obviously too concentrated on trying to cum.

You enjoyed your Adult-Swim, but this, this was a show for you. A sight for your extremely sore eyes. You were honestly at a crossroads here, almost not wanting to intervene. Just let him fuck himself on the pillow you sleep on every night, even though he obviously didn’t know what he was doing. His movements were sloppy and lazy, indicating that he’d been at this for a while.

“dammit!” He whines as he falls lip onto your pillow, finally giving up. He continues to whine and whimper into it, still grinding ever so slightly onto the sheets. You watch him closely, noticing how desperate he looks, exhausted and frustrated because he just couldn’t seem to make himself cum.

“awh…poor baby.” You interrupt as you open the door and enter the room. Bucky immediately stops his movements and stares at you like a deer in headlights. “couldn’t do it by yourself?”

“tryin…” Bucky whines, head faced down at his painfully hard cock which was twitching against your pillow. “shit… just can’t do it like you can, babe..”

Bucky picks his subtle but noticeable thrust against your pillow again, looking at you with teary eyes. You slowly make your way to the bed and grab his face with both hands and kiss his plush lips. His big blue eyes look up at you as he gives you a meek smile.

You give him one more kiss. “I’ll bet I could do a better job than this pillow, don’t ya think?”

Bucky nods in agreement, immediately throwing the pillow to the side and kicking off his briefs as you settle yourself on the bed and against the headboard. Bucky stares at you with anticipation, waiting for you to tell him what to do next. With two flicks of your pointer and middle finger, he’s crawled to your side in an instant.

“on my lap, lovie.” Your sultry voice commands, and Bucky does exactly what you tell him. His plush thighs have settled against both sides of your left thigh, and he settles his bum on your lap.

You graze your fingers lightly up and down his red and stiff cock, causing a breathy whine escape his throat.

“m-mommy, please don’t tease me like that… been w-waiting f’you all day…” Bucky whimpers shakily, hips bucking up at your movements. “hah- n-need more!”

A smirk creeps it’s way onto your face. He was so fucking adorable when he’s begging you to make him feel good. So adorable that you couldn’t help but tease him a little before giving him what he wants.

“how bad, hm?” You tease, fingertips dragging down to his balls, giving them a tight and sudden squeeze. Bucky’s mouth falls agape, and his eyebrows furrow upwards as he yelps at the sudden sensation.

“s-so bad, f-fuck!” His voice only gets whinier after your taunting.

“hmm… I don’t think you want it bad enough, darlin.”

Bucky watches your face with watery eyes, noticing your sadistic smile never disappear.

“n-no! please babe, want it- need it so bad!” He bucks his hips towards you, desperately searching for any sort of friction. His cock pulses under your fingertips, which are still softly grazing it up and down. Your face remains cold and unamused, as if his tears weren’t enough to convince you.

Bucky shakily takes your fingers, rubbing them on the tip of his cock, gathering as much precum he can with your fingers.

“s-see? d'you see, mama? l-leakin' so much for you. jus' gimme somethin', anythin' please...”

You knew you were being cruel by making him wait this long, but he looked so pretty begging for you to make him cum. The fact that he only depended on you to make him orgasm made your pussy throb. And as he so pathetically told you before, he just couldn’t do it like you can. He definitely didn’t have half the sexual experience you did, and still couldn’t even jerk himself off enough to get himself to cum.

“and what if it’s too much f’you? don't want you to get overwhelmed.” You question, placing your hands on both of hips, receiving a pleading look from Bucky.

“I asked you a question, Jamie.” You shoot him an alluring and voluptuous look with wide eyes, but Bucky just couldn’t meet your gaze. His eyes were shut closed, his face contorted in desperation.

“hah- d-don’t care… just do somethin’- nngh!”

Bucky starts, but interrupts himself with a pathetic whimper when he feels you grip harder onto his hips, slightly nudging them back and forth. His cock twitches as all of his pre-cum leaks onto your bare thigh, creating a slick and pleasurable mess for him to fuck himself on.

“a-ah, f-fuuckk…” a long whine makes its way from Bucky’s throat, his eyes rolled back. “please, mommy… can’t keep doin' this to me…”

“you wanna cum?”

He immediately nods his head up and down.

“go ahead then, pretty boy. fuck yourself against mommy's thigh.”

“wha..? n-no I-I can’t-”

“It’s my thigh or nothin’ Jamie.”

Bucky remains quiet for a little while but softly nods his head in agreeance.

You release your hold on his hips, curious to see how he will do on his own. Bucky starts to frantically rutt up against your thigh. His lack of rhythm causes you to think back to how you found him earlier. Your helpless little baby was in too much of a hurry to cum to get himself there.

“goddamit, I-” Bucky whimpers as his movements come to a stop and he punches the bed in defeat. “I don’t know how… please show me…”

Tears are streaming down his cheeks as he does his absolute best not to make eye contact with you. It was humiliating enough to have to ask you to make him cum.

Finally deciding to have some mercy, you begin to rock his hips back and forth, slow and steady against your thigh.

“ha-d-don’t stop, please…” His eyes are rolled back, little grunts escaping from his pink, parted lips. His metal hand holds onto your shoulder while the flesh one grips harshly onto the white bed sheets.

“you look so pretty fucking yourself on my thigh, baby. that’s it…keep goin’, don’t stop…"You coo at Bucky, who continues to desperately go at it on your thigh. Once he’s found rhythm, you let go of his hips and watch him.

Your praises must have motivated him some more, because his thrusts increased in speed, causing the whole bed to rock in unison to his frantic movements. His dog tags do the same, clashing into each other and swaying in tune with him.

The way Bucky's cock twitches and pulses against you is almost as if it is pleading for release. Even though it feels incredible, being inside of yourself will always be superior. The comforting, smooth feeling of your walls is unrivaled by anything. However, he keeps rutting against you in an attempt to get the relief he has been chasing all day.

Bucky’s grunts and pants above you. The sounds coming from him become more high-pitched with each jerk of his hips. The feeling of his warm pre-cum against the smooth skin of your thigh was driving his aching cock insane. He was so desperate for release—and he was almost there. Almost about to cum all over you. But his thighs were burning in pain.

“oh, fuck! I can’t, p-please, mama! please help me, I’m almost there!” Bucky cries, tears streaming down his extremely flushed cheeks.

His thighs tremble and spasm, his movements slowing down. He couldn’t do it anymore. Your baby had been at this for hours before you found him; it was only a matter of time before he would become completely exhausted. Your supersoldier definitely had super strength, but there were certain things he just couldn’t do by himself.

Such a poor little baby.

You latch your hands onto his hips again, more than willing to help your baby boy. With a slight nudge backwards and forwards, Bucky becomes a whining mess, his hips stuttering under your hands as you guide him closer to his orgasm. He thrusts frantically against your thigh, but this time in a perfect rhythm of back and forth movements (he has you to thank for that).

“good boy, Jamie. almost there, you can do it, baby.” Your words come out soft and smooth, coaxing him even further. He pants and whimpers through gritted teeth, muttering an almost incoherent string of curses.

“a-ah, shit-please… lemme cum, please lemme cum! m’ so close, so fucking close!”

You hum in response.

"go ahead, baby, you've been such a good boy for me."

A fraction of a second later, Bucky throws his head back, violently spasming on your lap. Loads of his white cum spurt out all over your leg as he cries out pathetically for you. His large, veiny hands desperately grab at the sheets, as his eyes roll back in pleasure. The veins in his cock are more than prominently bulging as it twitches and pulsates up and down against your now cum-coated thigh.

You watch him intently. His eyes have closed shut, and his heavy panting causes his loose brown hair to blow up with each breath. A few moments later, he falls limp against your chest.

"you okay, Buck?"

Bucky swallows for a moment, then contiunes to pant heavily. You fawn over his cuteness.

"answer me, baby boy. mommy asked you a question."

He softly nods his head against your chest.

"good," you reply with a whisper. "'cause I know you can give me another one."

STAY TUNED FOR PT. 2!!!

#buckybabieboy #sebastian stan #sub!bucky barnes #dom!reader #imagines #marvel #sub bucky barnes #bucky barnes #female reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes blurb #bucky blurb #bucky barnes x female reader #pam and tommy #tfatws

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, round one of the major bracket

Propaganda:

For Nandor and Guillermo:

I feel like accessory to murder and cause of the murder counts, right? 

Classic vampire/human who wants to be a vampire except there's an understanding in the show of how messed up that is, down to Guillermo helping chop up the bodies of Nandor's victims to hide them for him. Then there's the added wrinkle of Guillermo finding out he's a vampire hunter by blood and actually very good at killing vampires. There is more than one incredibly erotically charged scene with Guillermo holding a stake to Nandor's chest. Their dynamic is fantastically complex, from Guillermo starting as Nandor's somewhat disgruntled servant to him besting the vampire in combat and becoming his bodyguard, to Guillermo getting tired of waiting and getting another vampire to turn him leading to a long jealousy arc culminating in Nandor nearly killing him... there's just so much going on with these two. Nandor flew to space just to impress Guillermo. They do a number of heinous things to humans and vampires alike, but through it all they are so in love and so rich with pining. One of these days they'll kiss, I'm sure of it. It's just a monumental slow burn with many vampiric atrocities along the way.

They aren't romantically canon yet, but dear lord. Both are canon queer, Guillermo is specifically gay while nandor is mentioned to be pansexual in interviews. Yeah they are everything and nothing. They fought and can kill eachother but they literally can't do it emotionally. Also forbidden love trope, vampire x vampire slayer /familiar/ body gaurd / best man. They make me unwell.

For John and Jack:

So, they both are literal murders. One of them is a little bit more insane than the other. Okay, the little bit part is not right, totally insane that is John, yes. But gonna love him though. He had been in rehab for alcohol, drugs, sex and murder. Don't kiss him, he might be wearing poisoning lipstick. They are canon mlm. They had been stuck in a two week time loop for five years, which was like leading a married life for them. They didn't actually marry, but they were partners, both in business and sexually. They worked together for an time agency. Then Jack's memories of two years were erased and he left. He went into  independent self deployment, doing scams using his knowledge of future events. After that he build an alien hunting institute in Cardiff, Wales. When John and Jack see eachother again after years, you don't know whether they will they kiss or fight. They do both. Did I tell you that along this story Jack became an inmortal who can't stay dead? No matter how or how often he dies or is killed, he keeps coming back to life. This is all very scraping on the surface, but oh boy, would it be at least a novella to describe them.

They worked together in the Time Agency where they did horrible things to the extent where Jack had two years of his memory stolen so that he couldn’t know what he’d done. They were also in a time loop together for five years where they canonically thought of each other as the wife (John was a good wife :3), and were basically married. Then they had a divorce arc and they both separately went rogue from the Agency to become conmen, although they still worked together/clashed on occasions, always still with that spark of passion. “Frenemies with benefits” Jack called them once, although John preferred “my lover, my rival, my nemesis and destiny. And bane of my bloody life.” Canon finds us where Jack has tried to reform and be a better person, but John is still chasing cons, and all he wants to do is bring Jack back to the stars with him, back to the crime and the glitter of the galaxies (it doesn’t work and he shoves Jack off a building but Jack got himself immortal so he’s fine <3) anyway I am very normal about them xoxo

In John's introduction to the series he shows up on a roof where some guy is mugging someone, grabs him by the throat and dangles him over the edge of the building while this guy begs for his life before dropping him just because he felt like it. When John and Jack interact for the first time in the show there's a super cool guitar riff, very evil western vibes, they walk up to each other, look deeply into each other's eyes, make out, then start throwing punches to Blur's Song 2. In one of the audio dramas we're told about various times where these two conned people, stole a bunch of money and gold and gems and stuff, then had sex with whoever it is they conned before (sometimes) killing them. When Jack devided he was done and left John to die John escaped and married the queen of England (Victoria) then locked Jack up somewhere to take his life force and live forever, destroying the timeline in the process. John has tried to kill all of Jack's friends at least twice to have him all to himself. He found Jack's long lost brother and when the brother turned out to be a terrible person with a vendetta against Jack John did everything he could to save Jack. Their relationship is canon but very one-sided most of the time

just this video

#gay wrongs tournament round 1 #wwdits #torchwood #what we do in the shadows #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #john hart #jack harkness

[conostra]

Griffith's Relationships

The White Hawk. The White Phoenix. The King of Falconia. The Savior. Femto. The Blessed King of Longing. Once, the greatest mortal to ever wield a sword. The bane of the Black Swordsman. The most beautiful man alive. Him with a stature nothing short of pure magnificence. You know him. You love to hate him. I’m talking about one of the greatest characters not just in manga, but in all of fiction: Griffith.

Griffith is one of many examples of how masterful Kentaro Miura was with a pen, be it pressing against a notebook or a panel. An incredibly written character, as complex as they can come, with some of the most complicated, deep, and tragic relationships I’ve ever seen put to any form of media.

Here, I’ll be discussing what is inarguably a core tenet of Berserk: Griffith’s relationships. With two exceptions, there is no dispute that Griffith’s relationships are the singular most important part of the media he resides in, there is no debate over whether or not they are still crucial parts of understanding both Guts’ disposition, and the world of Berserk. Griffith’s different approaches to interacting with those in his vicinity warps the very world itself, and his whims shape the very nature of the conflicts the protagonist engages in.

Here, in 6 parts, we will be dissecting Griffith’s most important relationships through Berserk, how they shaped him, and what they explain about who he is and how he got to where he is now.

Part 1: The Boy, and The Hawks

Part 2: The Governor.

Part 3: The King.

Part 4: Charlotte.

Part 5: The Wings of the Hawk (1)

Part 6: The Wings of the Hawk (2)

______________________________________________________________

Part 1: The Boy, and The Hawks

Throughout the story of Berserk, Griffith goes through many changes, some more drastic than others. But no change is more pivotal than the one caused by a certain young bird who flocked with him and the Hawks when he first started his journey. Before Guts, before Casca, Griffith was no one. He was a commoner, no more than a child, starting his own little group of misfit warriors to become… something. Whatever it was, surely, it must set him on the path to his dream. But to the others, whatever that something was did not matter. It was of no consequence to them whether that mystical something ever came into fruition. All that mattered was that Griffith was the one who was pulling them along with him into the smoke that obscured their immediate war-torn futures.

Among them was a young boy. Younger than Griffith, even. So young, he would even bring his toys onto the battlefield. A young boy who admired him from what he thought was afar, but in actuality could be only a few feet away at times. It was like admiring a star, or, as Griffith puts it, “the hero of some story.” A hero not too unlike the toy knight Griffith found one day in his satchel, no owner left to claim it, as he lay on the ground, blood pooling around him as it soaked through his bare clothes, no armor, merely a tunic and a dream. A dream to serve alongside Griffith. A dream to aid Griffith in achieving his dream, a small dream, a dream to aid another man’s story.

Griffith wondered, as he placed the boy’s toy back on his chest, whether, when he died, he felt comfort from his dream. Or, perhaps, did he die in agony, unable to achieve it? Was death the start of a new dream, or the end of all other ones? Was it even the boy’s dream that he felt as he slipped away? Or was it the dream Griffith imposed upon him? He did not know the answers.

But he knew one thing- that he could no longer idly hope for his dream to be achieved. He knew he could not simply throw enough numbers at the board, have enough fights, gain enough men, and maybe he’d get lucky, and his dream would simply fall into his lap. He would have to take initiative. He would have to work for his dream, would have to devote every waking moment, every sleeping moment, to the pursuit of that dream. 

One night, later on, upon returning to the castle, Casca finds Griffith with a man known for… having a particular taste regarding young boys. Later on, she finds him, bathing himself in a nearby river. He begins to quite literally tear into himself, ripping open his arm in a perfect metaphor for how he feels. He claims he has logically reasoned out that what he did was necessary in order to make sure that he gets the funds needed to properly helm a militia the size he will require. But this is only after admitting that he feels that he must be as filthy as those who follow him, because he does not deserve to be clean when his dream is smeared in the blood of thousands who follow his words.

Despite his supposed recovery from this mental break, and despite his claims, the scene of that young boy, dead on the battlefield, with his only belonging encapsulating the lofty ideal to which he held Griffith, broke him. It could have, should have broken any man who would be in the same situation. But it did not just break Griffith. It melted him down, only to reforge him again. That young boy pushed Griffith to do whatever it takes to achieve his dreams, and to accept that casualties will occur. It was a notion Griffith accepted, but not one he fully understood until it was there, laid bare in front of him, forcing him to either confront it, or to give up. And Griffith confronted it. And it warped him. As the story progresses, we see that Griffith is still affected by the death of this young boy, and that his blood still stains crimson all of Griffith’s decisions. 

Without this death, perhaps Griffith is content to simply grow the Hawks through skirmishes, through battle, and through battle alone, until another opportunity presents itself. Perhaps Griffith does not sleep with the old man. Perhaps Griffith does not engage in the activities he does later on in the story, assassinating rivals in his chase of his dream of a throne. Perhaps he does not pull Guts as his sole equal in the depravity he lowers himself to for his dream, sending him on an assassination mission where Guts has a realization of equal magnitude to his own. But Griffith does not recover from this spiral. Perhaps, if this child did not die as a result of Griffith’s own actions, perhaps The eclipse never occurs. Perhaps Griffith must work ten times as hard, it takes ten times as long, but perhaps Griffith does not become the false emotional stonewall he acts as. Perhaps he gains a new dream, perhaps he does not, but either way, perhaps he can have that journey with those he loves, he values, to keep him company.

And Griffith loves the Hawks. All of them. Perhaps not to the same degree, but for all of them, Griffith feels this same type of patriarchal, shepherd-esque obligation, with perhaps the exception of Guts, and Guts alone. He takes on the burden of making the hard choices, of putting himself through hell, to attempt to mitigate the harm they can potentially receive as much as possible. He bears the weight of every victory, every loss of every individual, all willingly given for the sake of his dream. He alone bears the cross of being the head of the Hawks, at every step of their journey.

And this makes his decision at the Eclipse all the more powerful. Some may think that Griffith made the decision because he did not actually care about the Hawks, those who would so loyally lay down their lives if he were to so much as ask. But no. The thing that makes Griffith’s decision to follow that through, to sacrifice all of the Hawks for the sake of his dream so sickening, so gut-wrenchingly despicable, is that he does care. He values each and every single life that was lost at the hands of the apostles, and the demons that began to ravage his party at his behest. He has to care. After all, the Behelit requires him to sacrifice whatever he values most in order to give him his chance at his dream. 

All this death and mayhem, yet underneath it all, it is the scarlet blood of a single child, barely younger than him, that tinges Griffith’s memory. 

#griffith #casca #guts berserk #anime discussion #griffith is probably my GOAT villain I'm ngl #character breakdown #berserk #femto #RIP Miura #every time his pen touched paper was a masterstroke

[windvexer]

Hi chicken, do you have any thoughts on making more “moderate” curses? Its easy enough to make a spicy spell jar but that burning and hurting vibe is more intense than the situation calls for, but wards and things arent getting the job done

Ofc no pressure to answer tho

For my paradigm it's a touch more complex than this, but basically, you as the witch hold a huge amount of control as to how much the correspondence shines through, and what things it can effect. I'm not saying 100% control, but a lot of control.

For example you can create a burning jar so that it goads and hounds the target during all hours of the day, causing them great discomfort.

Or, you can only enchant the jar to irritate the person when they think specific thoughts, or take specific actions.

You can also suggest to the ingredients of your spell that they could, idk, generate a burning fire of guilt, chasing the person towards the soothing balm of apology, versus like, physically torture him like he's on fire 24/7 with no possible relief for the rest of his life.

Personally, if your goal is results-oriented so that something specific occurs (as opposed to punishment), I wouldn't necessarily recommend "baneful" magic at all. But, that's just me. I mean it sure can work sometimes. That's how I got my wallet back once when I lost it at the club!

#answered

[rithmeres]

yes, the plans that i could not share with you (because the haters would sabotage me) were that i was taking on LACC in my vash getup :)

i have so few pictures of myself but i got so many compliments (especially on my arm) and plenty of other people took pictures of me. and normally i don't like attention but i will be honest with u. under these circumstances i loved it. my arm held up really well through 8 hours on the convention floor and i have never been prouder of anything i've made. it's articulated incredibly well, no part of it gave out or required repair, it's never uncomfortable or a nuisance to wear, and i have enough range of motion to do relatively complex things like tying my shoes.

originally i was not planning to try to meet anyone famous because 1) it's expensive and 2) the lines are long and 3) i feel weird and annoying approaching literally anyone for any reason BUT. the spot where i met up with my sister just happened to be right next to johnny yong bosch's table. right when he started signing things. so i said LOL ok i'll do it.

it was super chill, i asked him how it felt to get the call that they wanted him to come back 20 years later for a trigun reboot and he said it almost didn't happen -- that since they recast everyone else for stampede they considered recasting vash as well (and i said WOW i'm so glad they didn't) and he said he really enjoyed getting to come back and explore a darker take (i forget if what he said was a darker take on vash's character, or just a darker trigun in general) but it was briefly surprising 2 me that he considered stampede to be a darker version but i get it, especially when u consider that there is not a lot of comedy in those 12 episodes to balance out the grief.

ANYWAY he was impressed with my arm and i asked him if he would sign my coat :) so he signed the lining but he was also like u know what, i'm gonna give you a second autograph just because. so he signed a print for me as well (free of charge!!) and the print with the blue signature matches my famous paintings that i always film in front of (that's providence baybee)

other stuff from the con under the cut

cosplay notes:

i saw 3 other vash cosplayers (a 98 vash, a stampede vash, and a purple coat vash) and no shade but i definitely had the best arm build. peace and love to all of them though

i saw 1 1/2 wolfwoods. 1 was the aforementioned mullet wolfwood from yesterday's post (ww if you’re out there ww) and the 1/2 was the 98 vash cosplayer’s gf in some kind of goth-ish dress and she was carrying a punisher

mullet wolfwood if you're out there i regret not getting a picture with you so much. i am deeply ashamed and i have no excuse because i ran into you twice and both times i was too embarrassed to ask for a picture. i just want you to know that your punisher was swag and your earrings were yolo and we would look very good together

i expected to see a lot more trigun tbh. los angeles where u at. 4 vashies at a convention of 120,000+ people is nothing. one guy even walked up to me like wow i love ur vash, i haven't seen a lot of trigun at this con and i was like I KNOW i thought i'd see a lot more

theeeee costume of all time award goes to the cad bane cosplayer i saw on the balcony. spare hand in marriage dude (gn) you looked so good

second place for costume of all time goes to the other mother cosplayer who had button eyes and these crazy finger appendages and never once broke character even while waiting in lines

i took 100 points of psychic damage from this one guy who (and im not kidding) was at least 6’4’’ and wearing platform boots and was dressed as the mfing onceler. with the stupid top hat he was fr 7+ feet tall (i saw him duck to get through a doorway).

someone was there as the brawny paper towel guy?? just walking around in a beard and flannel carrying a pack of paper towel rolls?? go off king

i saw 5 nightwing cosplayers but only 2 were biblically accurate (had ass)

the nanami sweep at this convention was so real u all SHOWED UP. and everybody ate. i saw at least 12 nanamis and not one of them was a flop.

i have never seen so many spider-mans in my life

other things:

fig. 1: this extremely hot captain america on a very large poster was about 2 make me act unwise. hi gorjus................................. nice eyebrows

fig 2: i saw this sign a couple blocks away from the con and i did a triple take. 🔥🔥🔥TRIMAX MENTIONED🔥🔥🔥

fig. 3: i saw all 4 hobbits in panel and can confirm elijah wood’s laugh is ten times more infectious in real life. before they were even done sitting down, dominic monaghan switched around all of their name cards so that none of them were seated behind the right name. as u might imagine much of the panel's content was reminiscing about LOTR, but i heard some stories that i hadn't heard before. they also talked about video games, other projects they are working/have worked on, how their kids feel about their dads' LOTR roles, how much they love ian mckellen, and how they would love to see something happen for the 20th anniversary of ROTK this year. sean astin (the legend) took shots at the stranger things writers (basically said joyce could never be happy with hopper) AND EVERYONE CLAPPED LOL. billy and dom talked about the best food in NZ, their show billy and dom eat the world, and the unfortunate events that led to the friendship onion's hiatus. it was a ton of fun to just watch them be themselves with each other, you can tell that these guys are all so fond of each other and love each other so much.

and finally, fig. 4: i bought these beautiful prints from @/batinyourbelfry and the skeletal washi tape from @/skeletalacademia (both on IG)

#this post is all over the place but i want u all to experience this with me. baby's first convention #i didn't hate it like i thought i might but i am absolutely WIPED and will b perfectly content to not go to another con for several years #lacc #los angeles comic con #it's so funny walking around and just hearing someone go VASH and literally being like. who said that. #like there are 5 million people in this corridor. where are u so i can acknowledge you #my immediate defense mechanism is to toss up a peace sign so it's very convenient that it is something in character for vash #my favorite compliment was this one guy who was just like 'THAT'S FUCKIN SICK' from across the aisle and i was like 'YEAH!!!!' #long post #ackchewally the more i think about it. i do think sometimes people mischaracterize stampede as lighter than the other triguns #simply because the characters look more baby than their other counterparts #even though many elements of stampede are. truly so dark. #like we are not at manga-level-dark yet but HOO BOY i have no doubt we will get there #i'm dying to see what other horrors orange is cooking bc i KNOW they're cooking awful manga things (laudatory) #hot single dads in your area #my cosplay #this post has taken me hours to write. im so sick of it at this point begone from my sight i hate u

[chipped-chimera]

WIP WEDNESDAY - 21/06/23

(I mean it’s technically Friday now between timezones and spoons but have this otherwise I’ll keep forgetting) My first WIP Wednesday! Thanks @theviridianbunny​ for the tag! I’ve been really getting stuck into modding - as well as falling into my usual mod habit of ‘start like six project at once and end up with a million WIP files' but I guess I’ll talk about the major ones.

Graphic design is my passion ...

(Long) rambling about mods I'm making + things I've learned below the cut~

My V’s tatt project is still ongoing, and I’ve (somewhat begrudgingly) been trying out Substance Painter to work on bits of it, mainly polishing seams between UV maps. It’s definitely got a lot of benefits, especially for graphic placement in really tricky areas (like anywhere in the entire head mesh region for example) but I still think a lot of the heavy work will still be done in Photoshop so I’ll probably be writing up both experiences with them when I do that tutorial I keep hinting at for complex tatt work. I’ve started drafting a tumblr tutorial but I wonder if that’s the best format, maybe a PDF? Google doc? Github wikis look cool? (tho I think I need to pay for that) - if y’all got suggestions for tutorial formats pls let me know!

As for the other arguably overly-ambitious-project-where-I-bit-off-more-than-I-could-chew ...

H A I R.

Hair has been the bane of my existence for about the past week( ... weeks? Maybe two?), most of it involving cursing, a lot of reverse-engineering game meshes and smashing my head against blender. But if not already evident from my monowire post - I am a stubborn bitch with too much time on my hands so even though there were at least two moments where I wanted to curl up on the floor under my desk and just stay there - we got there.

This all started because my favourite hair mod which I cannot split from my V’s identity was acting funky and the shape of it had been altered since a physics update. It wasn’t her anymore. So I needed new hair. I tried editing the existing hair. I tried importing the old hair mesh. I tried so many things and they didn’t work out one way or they threw a million errors or there were an obnoxious amount of verts.

I even tried looking for replacement mod hair. None of them fit, all of them felt too ‘clean’ for my V. So I just concluded: FINE. I’ll make my own damn hair. From scratch. At least then I’ll actually KNOW what’s going on with the mesh, right?

Problem with hair is tutorials are very limited in respect to Cyberpunk, so I had to learn a lot of this by myself and looking at other processes used for building game hair. I’ve had a previous stint in game design at uni but it was very introductory and more broad-strokes concepts not specific stuff like what ‘real time hair’ is and how you actually go about placing hair-cards (there’s a million different ways btw) but after another 3 days smashing my head against blender I finally got shit to work to a satisfactory level using hair tools for blender and the particle hair grooming system (not the 3.5 blender system, maybe more on that at some point).

Putting together the hair cards I was 120% convinced this was going to blow up in my face, primarily through vert count. But this hair tool plugin? Alarmingly efficient. I was frequently checking my work against Alt's hair mesh (one I was planning on rigging to) and here's the final-ish stats -

This is with only Alt's hair mesh selected (no cap) and then only my mesh(s - lots of layering to build it up), and by comparison I felt I'd built up the density of a chinchilla. This is not a brag, this is mostly genuine confusion over how efficient this plugin is, all I did was smack around hair curves. It did all the UV mapping junk on the fly.

Although structurally complete, I still consider this a WIP (yes I know there's a reeeeal fun vert funkiness in that second render, it's been fixed) since I'm having to go back and fine-tune some of the UV's the plugins mapped that I'm not happy with and generally figuring out my density problem because if anything, after putting it in-game it felt too dense.

Because yes, somehow I got it in game.

WITH. PHYSICS.

This may have driven me absolutely up the wall between having to learn blender from scratch then what the heck real time hair is and how that works etc. etc. but ... god, seeing her move back from the mirror and just feeling that instant catharsis of 'IT'S HER!' made it so. Damn. Worth it.

It looks too thick - this might be because I chucked in the 'doubled' feature Wolvenkit comes with because I hadn't spent any time doing backfaces. But it also might be because it's black? That's going to need investigating.

The physics need a lot of work too, I did a pretty rushed weight painting job last night on a merged version of the mesh because I was worried whether it was even viable and I'd already dumped an insane amount of hours into this between trying to salvage the old hair and building a new one (with some more bells and whistles. Mainly - curly). That wasn't without it's issues -

This almost fucking cracked me, given this was one of the issues I was experiencing before trying to fix an existing mesh mod. Turns out I was just being dumb and forgetting to export the armature, which I'd thought I wasn't supposed to do after having blender throw a bunch of errors on other hair attempts. I gave it a try after one last shot and boom. Worked. (I dunno what those errors were about man but now I know armature? very important).

Will I release this hair? no damn clue, depends on if I can get it to a level I feel is 'releasable'. I already know what I'm calling it though - Venatrix her side-handle I've decided on.

I look forward to adapting it into maybe a comb-back version, as well as a tied up version, so I can show off both her undercut + have the option of NOT hiding every damn tatt I've obsessed over placing on her neck haha.

In other news -

My much-needed wacom tablet replacement arrived (as well as other things I was looking forward to 👀) meaning my Wacom Cintiq, workhorse of ten years can finally enjoy her retirement. Her controls were getting funky, she had a few dead pixels but man. I'm convinced they won't make them like her ever again. Either way she's done unfortunately - upgrading my monitor to 2k made this painfully obvious. I don't think it's even running in full HD, it's that old. And with Phantom Liberty coming out this year? I'm probably going to need a new videocard and DVI compatibility isn't really a thing anymore.

So for future I think I'll just stick to the basic tablet set up, invest in screens. Also now I FINALLY know what her hair is gonna look like and with the tablet here, I can get back to work on the tattoo bodysuit.

Anyways, that's it for now! (Jesus Christ did you really read all of this? If you did you're a fucking trooper). Sorry for the extended ramble but MAN I did a lot, I needed to yell.

Till next time Chooms! Thanks again @theviridianbunny for the tag~ <3

Oh shit wait, have the blender renders before I forget because hahah I figured out how to do that too lol -

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 modding #my mods #wip wednesday #cyberpunk 2077 mods #kerytalk #god I am sorry this is a fucking essay but I had a lot to talk about I guess #one can do a lot in a week with nothing but the power of autistic hyperfocus and the love for one's OC blorbo ok

[blackjackkent]

Given all that business with Shar and Shadowheart, I've come to the conclusion about something that needs to happen for Hector, at least in my headcanon if not canonically in the game.

------

"Copper for your thoughts, love?" Karlach asks softly as she crawls into bed next to him in the Elfsong.

He's already stretched out on his back under the blankets, staring at the high rafters of the ceiling thoughtfully, and it takes him a moment to come back to himself at the sound of her voice. He smiles, though, as his eyes meet hers, and scoots aside at once to give her room to snuggle up against him. "They're complex enough that I think a copper might be undercharging," he says ruefully.

She slides an arm under his shoulders, pulls him into her arms so his head is nestled on her shoulder and against her cheek. "Well. I've got time," she says, kissing his temple gently. "You scared me, you know. Back there. I don't know what Shar did with you but you and Shadowheart and her parents all just... I dunno. You sort of phased out, went all smoky, and everything got dark..."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I didn't know any of that was going to happen..."

"I know." She hesitates. "You really spoke to her? The goddess?"

"We both did." He sighs heavily. "And she was exactly as cruel as I was always taught she was. But for better or for worse, Shadowheart's free of her now, I suppose..."

She noses against his hair, another kiss to the top of his head. "You sound like something's still bothering you, though."

"Well, all of it, I suppose. How awful the whole thing was for Shadowheart, for one thing. But... other, more selfish things, too." He pauses, and then the words burst out of him. "Is it so much to ask, that if I am to face down Shar, and Myrkul, and Vlaakith and Orpheus and Mystra and Bhaal and Bane... is it so much to ask, that I come so close to Selune, even once?"

She frowns. "You're asking the wrong person, I'm afraid," she mutters.

"No, I... I know. It's not really something anyone can answer, anyway. I just... grow frustrated, at times. Fifty years I've lived trying to follow the Moonmaiden's light, and now here I am at the center of a battle where all the gods seem to be converging..."

"And yet yours hasn't spared a word for you."

"Yes." He sighs. "Don't worry. It'll... it'll pass. Today's just put me at a low ebb, that's all. All of us really, I think."

"No kidding." She rolls over into him, pulls him fully into her embrace.

As always, he starts to relax at once; no matter how terrible the day is, this is always safety, always home. He turns his head so he can press a kiss under her jaw and lets his eyes close. "Good night," he mumbles. "It'll all look better in the morning, I expect..."

------

His eyes drift open and at first he's conscious only of a strange, floating sensation. Everything around him is the pale blue-white of pure moonlight, and it is a blank abyss without a point of reference. For a moment he almost panics, feeling that sense of emptiness in all directions that almost reflects what he saw in the Shadowfell, or his vision of the Absolute in Moonrise Towers...

But the panic eases almost at once, because he is dimly aware on some level that he is dreaming, that somewhere he is still in bed with Karlach's arms around him. And because he realizes with a sudden soul-shocking clarity that Selune is there watching him.

She takes no form as Shar did; she is in the very moonlight that surrounds him. And where Shar's voice was a thunder-rumble of cruelty, the voice that speaks to him now is soft, a gentle murmur, almost a whisper in his ear.

"Poor boy..." his goddess says to him softly. "Poor boy that has traveled so far in my name, and grown so weary..."

He cannot speak. His tongue feels frozen in his mouth. But his head lifts, looking around wildly, drinking in the sense of the presence he cannot see, like a parched man spying an oasis in the desert.

"Hector Carlisle, you show a strong front to the world..." the voice whispers, and there is a touch of kind amusement in it. "So strong it could fool even the divine. I should have reached out to you long past..." A touch like silk drifts across his cheek. "But do not believe that you travel alone."

He finds his voice with difficulty; the words stick in his throat a little, hoarse and uncertain. "I knew I did not..." he whispers. "So many times I have felt your light on me in the dark places... so many allies you have sent to help me carry the load..."

And yet they both know the truth - that he has longed for his goddess to speak to him, to bring him words of comfort and approval and pride... to tell him with certainty that he has done her will and hewed to the right course...

"My son... lonely child of my faith..." the Moonmaiden says, and there is an infinite sadness in that divine voice now. "Would that you could have been spared it all - the darkness you have been forced to face, and the darkness that yet lies ahead. The burden you bear is one that evil wrought for you to carry, and you have borne it beyond all my expectations."

He swallows the lump that forms in his throat at hearing these words. "There is so much... so much more to the world than I ever imagined..."

"It is a place full of life, full of light and full of darkness," she agrees. "A place you were ill-prepared for, and yet you have thrived."

"Have I done as you would wish?"

"You have done as your heart guided."

"With Shadowheart, with Aylin-- matters so close to you, did I do as you wanted?"

Again that faintest hint of amusement. "Had you done otherwise, I would have made sure you knew it long before now..."

A pause while he drinks in the overwhelming comfort that comes with that reassurance.

"Will we be all right?" he asks softly.

"Even I cannot say..." Selune answers. A thread of iron runs beneath the silk-smoothness of her voice. "The Dead Three have constructed a weapon that has broken beyond their control. Were it in my power to tell you the exact path that lies ahead, I would do so. But my light penetrates only so far before all becomes shrouded beneath shadows even deeper than Shar's."

He nods slowly. "I knew that, really," he answers, his head bowing.

"But you travel with my blessing," she continues. He feels a blossom of warmth grow in his heart, spread tingling through his whole body. "Let hope sustain you, for it is not lost yet, nor shall it be."

"Thank you..." he whispers. He feels dizzy with relief, with gratitude, with the sudden urge to smile and to sob simultaneously. "I will not forget it..."

"Rest, now, my boy..." she whispers gently in his ear, and he feels the moonlit abyss around him begin to fade out of his awareness. "Rest, and carry my light with you into the morning..."

-----

His eyes open again. He is back in the Elfsong, back in bed next to Karlach; she is face down, snoring into the pillow, her arm stretched haphazardly across his chest. And for a moment, with Karlach's embrace around him and Selune's voice in his mind, he feels a sense of deep peace such as he has never imagined he might experience again.

Thank you... he thinks, and tears sprout in his eyes. Thank you... I will not fail you... I swear it...

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #drabble #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #custom tav #monk tav #selunite tav #selune #bg3 oc #bg3 drabble #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #another one i'm pretty proud of i think c: #or at least gave myself plenty of feels with #hector is starting to get so so so tired y'all #good thing we're getting close to the end of things one way or another

[bg3-stole-my-soul]

TavTash Tag Game

I was tagged by my beloved bestie @randomfanner to participate in @bearhugsandshrugs and @crystal-overdrive Tavtash game!!

1. Tell us a bit about your Tav!

I have many, but out of them all only 1 is shipped with Gortash, and that is Kieran. Unfortunately I have no pictures of her yet as I haven’t made her in game 🥲

She’s a Zariel Tiefling with a very warm orangey-brown skin tone and a deep scar on her cheek. She’s got pretty horns that she is actually proud of. She has orange-gold eyes. She has long auburn locs. Body type wise she’s built like a brick shithouse and is very androgynous looking (in full armor she’s often mistaken for a man) , but she doesn’t mind this fact.

2. What alignment is your Tav? How does that align or clash with Gortash? Do they agree with him morally?

Kier is Lawful-Neutral good, which leads to a lot of conflict with Gortash. The two often disagree, which does sadden her for multiple reasons. Kieran is usually really easygoing and Gortash is very much not—

3. What God does your Tav follow? Is Gortash's position as Bane's chosen an issue?

Hahahahaha Gortash being Bane’s Chosen is a MASSIVE issue for Kieran because she is a paladin/cleric of Lathander. When she saw him during the cutscene underneath Moonrise girl was genuinely tempted to throw her mace at his skull because “THIS FUCKING MORON BECAME A B A N I T E”

She does make it a personal goal to try and help him renounce Bane and become less of a tyrannical asshat—

4. What did your Tav think of Gortash when they first met? Did they take his offer of an alliance?

Well— the first time they met was actually pregame when they were children. Kieran was the young “apprentice” of the local glassmakers (she was given to them by her parents who did not think they could care for her), and lived not far from Gortash’s family. When she first met him she thought he was a scrawny little dork who was bound to get his ass handed to him in any scraps he got into— so she declared herself his bodyguard and friend. He wasn’t very keen on this big, smiley, weirdo.. but he got used to it. Then one day she disappeared— turns out Raphael impulse buys “useful” children often. So once Gortash was taken to the House of Hope they were reunited and he once again had his protector.. just in a much worse situation. They eventually worked to escape together, but were separated.

When meeting at the coronation she’s… not happy. Like she’s obviously happy to know he’s alive as that was a worry she carried with her for years, but learning he was the Chosen of Bane and trying to take over the world with an Elder Brain? Ya no she very much wishes to BONK him on the head and ask why he thought this was a good idea. She accepts the alliance with a few extra conditions (like having him work to help fix Karlach’s engine because she’s very upset about that) hoping to rekindle their friendship and tell Bane to go fuck himself.

5. How did Gortash and your Tav get together? What do they see in each other?

During the actual story of BG3 the pair have a lot of complex feelings about one another and argue often, but deep down the two could never fully hate one another. They literally survived the Hells together— so lots of tension, lingering glances, and thoughts about what could’ve/should’ve been.

Post Game I think is where the two could finally truly open up to one another. It would take a bit of time, but Kieran would be placed as Gortash’s “handler” while the two work to rebuild the city— and they can fall back into their long ago pattern of working together. Because when not fighting they can work together well, they balance the other out. Very Good Cop/Bad Cop dynamic at times.

As for what they see in one another-

Kieran’s always admired Gortash’s mind. His creativity and ingenuity have always astounded her. As children she often asked questions about his tinkering and encouraged it. She also has (almost) always found his wit funny, even when it got the two of them into trouble.

Gortash on the other hand has (almost) always liked Kieran’s strength, both inside and out Kieran’s never allowed herself to buckle. He admires her perseverance even in times when he would’ve stopped. He also likes that despite his very methodical nature, Kieran’s easygoing and adaptable to almost any situation.

6. What does the future hold for your Tav and Gortash? Are they in a relationship, a one time thing, are they going to rule the sword coast together or kill each other in a tragic showdown?

Realistically? Tragic showdown that would tear Kieran to pieces. Idealistically and because it’s my brainchild? They get together after working together to help rebuild the city (and symbolically their relationship). As for kids I haven’t put a lot of thought into it yet, but they would at least have 2.

Unfortunately I do not have anyone else to tag- but if you wish to participate, please do!!

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #tavtash #tavtashgame #archduke enver gortash #baldur's gate iii #bg3 enver gortash #lord enver gortash #tav talk #gortash x tav #enver gortash #tav: Kieran #kiertash

[twistedtummies2]

Top 15 Villains from "Batman: The Animated Series"

Today marks the birthday of the late Kevin Conroy; a fine actor who did many things…but who most people recognize nowadays as the single greatest Batman voice there ever was. Conroy, of course, got his start in the part with the seminal “Batman: The Animated Series.” This television adaptation of the Batman mythos was and still is widely considered to be the definitive interpretation, and was the start of the much-renowned DCAU, which would go on to feature such shows as “Justice League” and “Static Shock.” For many, however, B:TAS was not only the first but the finest, and remains highly lauded to this day. Part of what made this show great, of course, was what makes virtually any take on Batman great: the Dark Knight’s colorful cavalcade of creepy and crooked antagonists. Batman’s Rogues Gallery is arguably the single greatest in all of superhero history, and the Animated Series did a pretty good job taking many of the greatest villains of the bunch, and reimagining them for a broad television audience. Much like the show itself, many of these scoundrels were not only appealing baddies for kids to boo and hiss at, but also made for great, complex characters, whom adults could get into on a different level, at the same time. Some of these villains were, I dare say, even BETTER than their comic book counterparts, not only then but still to this day! And even for those who were not, typically, the versions found in this show remain among the most respected. With that said, let’s waste no more time! In honor of my favorite Batman, here’s a countdown of his greatest foes! These are My Top 15 Favorite Villains from Batman: The Animated Series!

15. Bane

For many people, the Animated Series was their introduction to the character of Bane. And while I can’t say this is the absolute best take on the villain, I do still think this version has merits (incredibly bizarre design choices in both eras of the show aside). While the character’s origins felt a bit rushed and superficial, compared to the comics, Bane himself was fittingly depicted as a menacing, powerful villain, whose obsessive desire to physically break Batman made for some really gripping, intense scenes in the show. Anytime Bruce went up against this hulking monster of a man, it was always a big deal, because on a purely physical level, Bane could easily outmatch the Caped Crusader, even without the aid of his “super steroid,” Venom. Bane even got the honor of appearing in the spin-off movie, “Batman: Mystery of the Batwoman,” where he teamed up with the Penguin (along with gangster Rupert Thorne, and an original antagonist named Carlton Duquesne). The character would later go on to be the inspiration for a personal favorite episode of mine in “Batman Beyond,” which is worth noting, albeit more indirectly. In the show proper, Bane was voiced by Henry Silva; in the film, he was played by Hector Elizondo. Both brought a necessary grit and menacing, firm toughness to Bane, giving him an intellectual side despite his brutish exterior. You always got the sense that, strong as Bane was, he was just as lethal mentally as physically, which made for a dangerous combination whenever he and the Dark Knight came toe to toe.

14. Baby Doll.

Not all of the best villains from this series came from the comics. Mary Dahl, a.k.a. Baby Doll, was an original villain for the series, and many consider her to be one of the best of said bunch. While she only appeared twice, both of her episodes are memorable outings for many people. Dahl was once a child actress…an ETERNAL child actress, in fact, as she was diagnosed with a medical condition that makes her seem physically the age of a child, even though her mental and emotional state continued to develop into adulthood as she matured. She’s a grown woman trapped in a little girl’s body, and this - combined with tragic and twisted occurrences in her past - has caused her grip on reality to become shaky and tenuous. She thus becomes the villainous Baby Doll - inspired by a character she once played on television - forever seeking the perfect life she’s never been allowed to have, one way or another. Whether she was trying to rebuild a family she never had, or find a romance that could not be, Baby Doll was equal parts creepy, funny, and very sad: all great qualities to have in a layered villain. It’s really a shame that the series didn’t do more with her.

13. Ventriloquist & Scarface.

Arnold Wesker is a man with a problem. A problem that manifests itself through his wooden ventriloquist dummy, the murderous mobster called Scarface. Wesker suffers from a split-personality; as the Ventriloquist, he is timid, mild-mannered, quiet, placid, and even very sweet. But under the surface is a dark side to his character, for which Scarface acts as an avatar: a psychotic, ruthless, homicidal gangster who thoroughly enjoys being rotten to the core. The duality of Wesker’s character made for a lot of really wonderful scenes and some great episodes, as the struggle between his better half and the dark side inside of him could be used for humorous effect, but also made for frightening and at times extremely tragic scenes. He’s a person who constantly battles with demons he can’t fully control, and so no matter what sinister schemes Scarface hatches up, we always feel sort of sorry for the Ventriloquist himself. One of the most interesting parts of the show was that, because Scarface was just a block of wood at the end of the day, the animators could get away with some pretty messed up things to take the dummy out, which they couldn’t do with a human being. Scarface, over his long and sick career, was shot full of holes, burned to a crisp, crushed down, and shredded into sawdust, just for a FEW of the ways he “died” over the course of the series. Inevitably, however, the dummy would always be remade: as long as evil lived in Arnold’s heart, he could never really be rid of his diabolical alter-ego.

12. Ra’s Al Ghul.

Many nowadays consider Ra’s Al Ghul to be one of Batman’s absolute top-tier villains. He’s certainly one of the most unique. The Demon’s Head - voiced by David Warner in the series - was the leader of a widespread organization (here referred to as “The Society of Shadows”) with the goal of bringing purity to the world. Doesn’t sound so bad, but like so many who claim to want what’s best for the planet, Al Ghul’s scheme comes with a catch: it involves basically eradicating half the life on the globe. (Thanos approves.) While Ra’s has noble intentions, he suffers from something close to a God complex, and is quite, quite mad, despite his usual demeanor of sophisticated refinement. His daughter, Talia, also has feelings for Bruce Wayne, and Ra’s is fully aware of the Dark Knight’s alter-ego. As a result, Batman always faces a dilemna when facing the villain: he is one of the most personal threats Batman will ever face, as he represents a sort of temptation that Bruce must always be cautious of, and seems to represent how badly Bruce could have turned out, himself, if his desire to see justice done went too far. Episodes with Ra’s Al Ghul always felt sort of special; they were usually more akin to Indiana-Jones-esque globetrotters than your typical Batman story, which made them unique and gave them a grander scale than many other tales. I feel kind of bad for placing him so low in the ranks, but I ultimately just like other villains more. Plain and simple.

11. Catwoman.

I’ve always had a sort of odd relationship with the version of Catwoman found in BTAS. On the one hand, this is arguably one of the most definitive takes on the character, at least for me. Anytime I think of Catwoman, the Animated Series version is one of the first to come to mind. Similarly, voice actress Adrienne Barbeau’s handling of the character is one of the most iconic, in my humble opinion. However, Catwoman’s actual EPISODES were frequently somewhat lackluster; they weren’t necessarily bad, mind you, but there was always this feeling something was missing with this portrayal in many stories, with only a few exceptions. With that said, the character really was a great portrayal, with Selina Kyle acting as an animal rights activist and philanthropist by day, and a cunning cat burglar by night. She was a very duplicitous character, as Catwoman often is; constantly going back and forth between acting as an enemy and an ally to the Dark Knight and his associates. She’d be helping them take down worse criminals one second, then trying to claw their faces off the next. You couldn’t trust Catwoman for too long, but that was part of what made her precisely so fascinating.

10. Penguin.

I have long stood by the opinion that BTAS created perhaps the most definitive portrayal of the Penguin ever made. I say this because the Penguin, himself, is a character who has evolved over the years. In times long past, he was a gentleman thief who used various tricks - most notably his gadget-geared umbrellas, and various trained birds - to commit his many colorful capers. In more modern times, the character has been reimagined into more of an eccentric gangster; he still has the gimmicks, but they’re more toned-down in favor of depicting him as a calculating schemer who works behind the scenes. There’s also the matter of the Penguin’s design: ever since “Batman Returns” with Danny DeVito’s grotesque interpretation, Penguin’s design has fluctuated between a more human and dapper demeanor, and a more monstrous, gruesome appearance. What was great about the Animated Series version of the character was that you kind of got the best of all those worlds combined: for the first three seasons of the show, Oswald Cobblepot had a DeVito-inspired design, and was depicted as a crafty gentleman thief. In the revamped “New Batman Adventures” era of Season 4, however, the character was given a more classical design, but also depicted in a more modern fashion, as a mobster working from the Iceberg Lounge. In the show, the character was played by the great Paul Williams; in the aforementioned “Mystery of the Batwoman,” the villain was voiced by late, great David Ogden Stiers. While Stiers only did the one film, I honestly can’t decide which of the two did a better job with the character overall. (I’m tempted to say Williams, only because he had more time in the part.) Whichever voice and whichever era you prefer, the Penguin was a persistent thorn in Batman’s side right up to the end.

9. Poison Ivy.

While many people seem to prefer the more sympathetic takes on Poison Ivy that have come about in recent years - and make no mistake, I’m all for a sympathetic Ivy, when it’s done well - I actually have always preferred the more classical, cold-blooded Femme Fatale interpretation of the character. There is no better example of such a rendition than the one found in the Animated Series. Voiced by Diane Pershing - who is, by far, the greatest voice for Ivy there ever has been - Ivy’s use of killer plants and dangerous pheromones in her crime sprees made for some particularly disturbing and unsettling episodes when she was working on her own. Aside from that, we can’t forget how this series started the famous duo of Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, and seeing the two of them work together on other capers was honestly just as entertaining, if not more so. I also loved the dichotomy of Ivy’s personality, with her so often putting up this facade of being strong, cool, and confident…but then going absolutely feral whenever anyone caused trouble for her “babies.” As deadly as she was darkly beautiful, Poison Ivy was one of the most memorable villainesses in the whole show.

8. Riddler.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I adore the Riddler. Speaking overall, in general, he’s my second favorite Batman Villain of all time. So for many, it’s probably going to be surprising that he shows up just sort of barely nipping into the Top 10. Make no mistake, however, I love John Glover’s take on the Riddler from this show. Aside from perhaps Frank Gorshin’s take in the 1960s, this has become perhaps the Gold Standard by which all other Riddlers since have been held: versions like the character found in the Arkham games, Justice League Action, and many others were all, directly or indirectly, influenced by this specific interpretation. For the past twenty years before the Animated Series, the Riddler was largely seen as a lame, washed-up has-been of a character; a product of more infantile times who had no place in a modern world. We still get ripplings of that idea floating around today. The Animated Series revamped the character greatly, making him a more serious, calculating villain, who was treated not as a clown but an intellectual equal to the Dark Knight. A deranged tech genius who used his skills to create truly ingenious traps, and whose clues were not necessarily easy to figure out. Unfortunately, the creators sort of wrote themselves into a corner with the character, as they found it difficult to conjure up stories for the Riddler; he really only had three episodes to his name, his only other substantial appearance being a small supporting role in the Superman crossover “Knight Time.” Beyond that, however, the Riddler was largely relegated to just having cameo appearances. Perhaps ironically, he was better treated in the spin-off comics for the show…but that’s another story for another time.

7. Scarecrow.

While not necessarily my favorite take on Jonathan Crane, I would argue that the Animated Series gave us the definitive take on the Scarecrow. In the first three seasons, the character was played by Henry Polic II, with a fairly comic-accurate design. In the fourth season, the villain was revamped from the ground up, with a more creepy, frightful appearance, and unsettling vocals provided by Jeffrey Combs. You can argue which one was really better (I personally prefer TNBA’s Scarecrow, but the first three seasons gave Crane much more to do, so to speak), but regardless, this show really helped to establish the Master of Fear as one of the Caped Crusader’s most formidable opponents. I loved just about every episode the Scarecrow appeared in; even his weakest outings had some redeeming qualities, largely due to the way the character worked: with his Fear Toxin in hand, able to bring about people’s worst nightmares before their eyes, this haunting adversary was able to provide some very tense, dramatic, and creative stories. Heck, even in episodes where he WASN’T the focus, Crane often stole the spotlight with his wicked personality and exaggerated visual stylings. The more often I see both versions of Crane in this show, the more I love them each.

6. Clayface.

Yet again, another villain whom many would argue was given his definitive interpretation in BTAS. In the comics, there have been multiple Clayfaces over the years. The Animated Series mixed and matched different elements from pretty much all of them to create what many would consider to be the ultimate version of the character. In the show, Clayface is a former actor named Matt Hagen, who was transformed into a being of living clay-like material after ingesting a dangerous amount of a substance called “Renuyu.” Intended as a beauty cream, Renuyu was unstable, and Hagen’s hideous change was the ultimate show of how imperfect the formula was. The event not only melted Hagen’s body, but also twisted his mind, causing him to become a callous, thieving scoundrel, who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Clayface’s appearances were few in number, but what they lacked in quantity, they made up for in quality. Just about every episode he showed up in was a favorite of mine; most of them were among the darkest and most emotionally wrenching stories of the show, dealing with themes of identity and innocence lost. Combine this with the remarkable visuals a shapeshifting clay monster could allow for, and it’s not hard to see why he made such a noteworthy mark. (P.S.: For certain readers...yes, I chose this specific screenshot for "that" reason. Bua ha ha.)

5. Two-Face.

Played by the late Richard Moll, Harvey Dent - a.k.a. Two-Face - has almost always been one of Batman’s most personal and tragic foes. The Animated Series pulled no punches in that regard: viewers were given a couple of episodes to meet Harvey before he ever became the villainous Two-Face, which made Dent’s change from hero to villain all the more impactful. On top of that, as the show went on, Harvey’s sanity was repeatedly tested and challenged, as the scars that afflicted him were more than simply skin deep. As tragic as Two-Face was, he could also work well as a menacing straightforward villain (such as in episodes like “Sins of the Father”) or even have a good deal of humor to him (such as in “Almost Got ‘Im”). Much like the Scarecrow, the more often I look at Two-Face in this particular show, the more I find myself enjoying what they did with the character, as they really did cover just about every angle possible with this half-and-half hoodlum.

4. Mr. Freeze.

Anyone who knows about “Batman: The Animated Series” probably knows what it did for the character of Mr. Freeze. Much like the Riddler, the series revamped the villain for a new generation, and the revamp they did continues to influence takes on Freeze to this day. In fact, this reinterpretation was SO good, that any version that DOESN’T borrow from it usually seems to be detested by fans. Also like the Riddler, Freeze made relatively few appearances in the DCAU as a whole…but, like Clayface and the Scarecrow, every single episode, even the weaker ones, was at least interesting, if not outright great. (As maligned as “Cold Comfort” is, you can’t say it isn’t memorable.) Michael Ansara’s vocals and the sorrowful, almost Shakespearean dialogue and background the character was offered allowed for one of the most fascinating reinventions of a character in the entire series, and many to this day consider Freeze to be one of their favorite Batman villains largely just because of this interpretation. To be honest, the great surprise here is that he isn’t in my Top 3…but hopefully the ones above him will not disappoint.

3. The Mad Hatter.

Anybody who knows me probably also knows I love the Mad Hatter. Not only that, but they probably know that, out of every interpretation of Jervis Tetch there’s ever been, this is by far my favorite. This is a case of a character who is most assuredly better in the series than he ever was, and arguably ever has been, in the comics themselves. In the comics, Tetch is usually depicted as a psychotic little creep with little to no redeeming value; a nasty little wretch who needs to be decked out by Batman’s fist as fast as possible. The Animated Series, however, created perhaps the most human, tragic, and marvelously mad Hatter of them all. In the show, Jervis Tetch - voiced to sheer perfection by the magnificent Roddy McDoall - is a former neuroscientist, who was driven off the deep end by the combination of his discovery of a method to control people’s minds…and the unrequited feelings he had for his secretary, coincidentally named Alice. Over the course of the series, we see Jervis seemingly go increasingly more insane and become increasingly more warped and deranged, but there’s always this underlying sympathy, given how he started out. He’s yet another villain where, even in his weakest episodes - I’m looking at you, “Animal Act” - he, himself, proved to always be a spotlight moment. It’s really no surprise he ranks in my personal top three.

2. Harley Quinn.

Really, what can I say here? It’s Harley Quinn. The Animated Series created this character, Arleen Sorkin (God Rest Her Soul) MADE this character, and to this day I don’t think any other version of Harley has ever come close to the absolute marvelousness of the original. She’s funny, she’s complex, she’s sympathetic but still has her mean moments, and she’s frankly become so popular since this series that I’m starting to get a little bit frustrated with the gal. Nevertheless, I'll always love this original interpretation. (pauses) I’ve seriously got nothing else. This is a no-brainer.

1. Joker.

Just as “Batman: The Animated Series” gave us arguably the greatest Batman voice of all time, in the form of Kevin Conroy, it also provided us with by far the greatest and most influential Joker voice of all time, courtesy of Mark Hamill. Funny enough, Tim Curry was originally planned to voice the Joker, and even did some recordings for a couple of the character’s early episodes. However, for various reasons, Curry’s work was dropped, and Hamill was instead brought on to play the Clown Prince of Crime, having impressed the creator’s after playing a totally different character in the episode “Heart of Ice.” Hamill used Claude Rains’ work as the Invisible Man as inspiration, and the rest is pretty much history. From the early seasons, to TNBA, to nearly every other show in the DCAU, the Joker was a constant presence of villainy, always sort of lurking in the back of Batman’s mind, a symbol of the evil he was sworn to combat. Mocking and malicious, this dastardly demon has really never been portrayed better than he was in this show, I would argue; other attempts since have come close - including other versions voiced by Hamill, who would continue to play the character for many years to come - but no cigar. There’s not a whole lot else I can say: he’s the Joker. His presence at number one should shock nobody. Without any doubt, the Clown Prince of Crime is My Favorite Villain from “Batman: The Animated Series.”

HONORABLE MENTIONS INCLUDE…

Roxy Rocket.

Clock King.

Killer Croc.

Lock-Up.

#list #countdown #best #favorites #top 15 #batman #batman the animated series #btas #tnba #dcau #batman villains #villains #wb #happy birthday kevin conroy

[gorbalsvampire]

For Sorcha and Orpheus

❤️ 🤍 and 🎂 (for the astrology girlies out there~)

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits?

Sorcha is generous. She likes her money and her insights and her alchemy to get out there and make her friends, and she gives away more than she ought sometimes, because she wants friends and making herself useful helps there.

Orpheus cares. He's very earnest, and he's very seldom lied, and he wants the people he cares about to Not Suffer if it's in his power. He is aware of what his diablerie-charged Banes do, and he tries to isolate others from that; from the physical pain and the inevitable entropic collapse.

Both of them are very loyal people. Orpheus takes a minute to warm up, Sorcha tends to go ride or die very quickly, but either way, once you've got them they're friends for life.

🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits?

Sorcha is generous for a Dunsirn, and as a Dunsirn she knows the value of a debt. When she decides to set a price, it's exorbitant. She plays the Eternal Struggle better than anyone expected, and she's quite capable of screwing over the same people in three different ways at once if it means she gets the bag.

Orpheus is self-absorbed. Everything is his responsibility, his problem, his fault. It makes him invested but it also makes him insufferable. Fucking martyr complex.

Both of them are moral hypocrites who pride themselves on being "the good one" right up until they have to actually DO something. The fact is, Sorcha's a landlord, a drug dealer and a necromancer, and while she has a soft heart, she also has a hard head and she's not gonna stop doing the things she profits from. Orpheus likes hurting and controlling people - he's much, much more into it than is healthy - and all his boundaries can be compromised if, for instance, he's in a bad mood and just really wants to eat someone.

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE — when is your oc's birthday? how old are they? what are their sun, moon, & rising signs (if known)? what about their tarot card, ruling planet, & ruling number (if known)? do they fit the typical traits of these sun, moon, & rising signs?

Orpheus? 6 December, 1969. He'll be 55 this year. Sagittarius sun, Scorpio moon, Leo rising, and two out of three are spot on. He's not a typical Leo... he was, when he was alive, but it's been a long thirty years. Tarot? The Chariot and the Tower. Prone to catastrophising, given to romanticise the past, but self-mastered and driven and able to reinvent.

Sorcha? 22 January 2000. She is twenty-four years old. Aquarius sun and ascendant, Leo moon, and that's pretty accurate. Sorcha IS unconventional, anti-authoritarian, eccentric; can't not push a boundary, just wants to be loved. Tarot? Same as Orpheus. And they ARE very alike in those respects.

#thanks for asking! #oc: sorcha dunsirn #oc: santino giovanni #really feel like this is... incoherent... but whatevs it's probably fine

[camels-pen]

love is blind (really REALLY blind)

Summary: Wes Weston was 14 years old when his soulmate died for the first time.

Ao3 Link | Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Soulmates. Not everyone had them, but a lot of those who did would gush and wax poetic about their fated partner, either in their heads or out loud.

Little Wesley was no different. He loved to imagine what his soulmate would be like, look like, sound like. He loved to ask his parents how they met over and over. He loved to write stories in his notebooks about a bunch of places he and his soulmate would visit and have lots and lots of fun.

And then Mom was gone. And Dad wouldn’t tell him how he met Mom anymore.

He wanted Mom back to tell him the story, but Dad said she went to some big farm up in the sky. And Kyle was sad a lot too.

Dad started buying a lot of yucky green apples and bananas too. Then he started taking Wes with him every time he went to the store. He didn’t wanna go, but Dad always said he needed his help.

Wesley didn’t get it.

And then one day, he did.

---

Wes Weston was 14 years old when his soulmate died for the first time.

It was usually only a few minutes at a time, and he hadn’t known anything about ghosts, so he accepted the fact that he had some sort of “complex colour blindness that manifested during intense moments of stress” or whatever his doctor called it.

But one day, when meat eater and vegan protesters ran screaming, when students similarly sprinted away as fast as they could, when Wes found himself stuck cowering under a tree and hoping the flimsy leaves and branches would protect him, he saw something.

Sucking the massive glowing meat monster into what he would later learn is a Fenton Thermos, was a glowing kid floating high in the sky. His hair glowed, his eyes pinpricks of some brighter colour, a grin on his face and some stupid pun leaving his lips.

And he didn’t know what it was like to see colour in grayscale, but, he thought, maybe this was what it was like.

Later, much much later, he would come to know that the boy’s name was Danny Phantom. 

Then Danny Fenton. 

Then the bane of his existence.

---

There was a clatter outside the window.

Wes, having fallen asleep on the couch part-way through an all nighter, had jerked awake to it. He blinked at the grayscale in his vision, rubbed his eyes a few times, and then sighed when it persisted. He grabbed the GameCube controller from where it’d fallen to the rug, ready to press play and get back to beating up that annoying blue hedgehog with the far superior black hedgehog, when he heard a suspiciously human sounding groan.

He scrambled to mute the TV and listen for any further sounds, hoping it was just a raccoon or a stray cat or something.

The fire escape creaked loudly, as if supporting a weight larger than just a raccoon.

Wes gulped. 

He grabbed Kyle’s skateboard from behind the couch, readied it over his shoulder like a bat and creeped low towards the window. He paused, just under it, and peeked his head up—

And then sighed, his shoulders slumping as he let the board dangle from a loose grip. 

Wes shoved open the window one handed, feeling exhaustion tugging at his bones. “Why are you on my fire escape, Fenton?”

“‘M not Fenton. ‘M Phantom,” he mumbled against the metal grating. “D’n’t worry ‘bout me. ‘M perfectly,”—he shifted, as if to turn onto his side, and groaned—“fine.”

“Uh huh, sure. Does this mean you won’t still be laying in a heap on my fire escape in the morning?” 

“Pr’bably.”

Wes hummed. Looked Fenton up and down, eyes lingering on a nasty gash on his hip. “Positive?”

“Ye, j’st go.”

And he was tempted. He’d seen how many hits Fenton could take without batting an eye. Seen it up close and personal more than once. 

But.

Something about how pitiful he looked, laying face down on his fire escape with the dark clouds rolling in, made Wes pause and think.

It wasn’t like the first aid kit got much use anymore, since it was off season for his and Kyle’s teams. And it was starting to get a problem to move it with how it was full to the brim. It’d probably help to use up some of the materials.

More than that, Fenton really looked pathetic and just the thought of him laying out here looking like a drowned rat would probably keep Wes up at night.

So, with barely any protest from Fenton, he awkwardly dragged him through the window and set him down on the floor. He cringed as some of Fenton’s weird green blood started to stain the rug. Wes would have to get rid of that later.

He left to grab the kit and when he returned, he saw Fenton fail once more to push himself up, his hand slipping in the growing pool of blood around him.

“Wh—?” Fenton blinked his eyes, looking around almost dazed. Well, that explained the lack of protest. “Are y’ gonna try getting a—a f’ckin picture? Now? S’riously?”

Wes rolled his eyes. “Yes, because taking a picture of you is the biggest of my concerns right now.” He unlocked the latch and kneeled next to Fenton, ignoring how sticky the blood made his legs feel. “Now sit still so I can keep you from dying.”

Fenton huffed a laugh, quiet and a little weak. “Too late for th’t.”

“Keep you from dying a second time, whatever.”

Fenton didn’t speak more after that and Wes was thankful for the quiet while he worked. Plus, when the guy wasn’t running his mouth all the time, he was actually pretty nice company. Like a cat or something.

Eventually though, Wes tied off the last of the gauze and tapped Fenton’s shoulder. “All done. You can leave now—” He glanced up to Fenton’s face and saw his eyes closed, breathing deep and even. Of course. 

He sighed. What was he supposed to do with the idiot now? 

Wes ended up putting Fenton on the couch, a towel covering the cushions under him just in case, and left him to sleep there the rest of the night while he dragged the rug five blocks away to a large dumpster outside a restaurant.

The next morning, Fenton was gone, the towel having disappeared with him.

---

It kept happening.

Between his own secret nightly investigations and frantic hair pulling by his inconsistently coloured vision though, Wes hadn’t really thought much of it.

Every so often, Fenton would show up in varying states of injury and knock on his window. Not the fire escape anymore, as one time he nearly got caught by Wes’ dad, up late trying to catch up on some last minute tax thing. After that, and an annoyed, “If you’re gonna keep showing up, why don’t you just knock on mine instead?” from Wes, Fenton had taken to knocking out the rhythm of whatever song was currently stuck in his head on the glass.

…It was kinda fun to try and guess what song he was thumping out, but simultaneously infuriating that the guy kept showing up so often to disrupt his research.

He said as much one day when Fenton had nothing more than a papercut and whined about wanting a bandaid. Wes had thrown the whole box at him and in his haste to kick him out, ended up letting slip that he was searching for his soulmate.

Fenton had quieted after that, a pitying look in his eye, and Wes had had enough.  

It was one thing to endure that look from his dad and his teachers and his so-called friends. But from Fenton? Someone who’d probably been giving his own soulmate the same problem as Wes?

Wes exploded.

“Don’t look at me like that. You think I’m just running through wild goose chases trying to find someone who’s in a coma or something, huh?” he yelled. “Think I’m just a weird kind of colourblind that changes every hour?!”

He gripped Fenton by the front of his hazmat suit. “Or are you gonna tell me there are other fish in the sea? That I should just move on and appreciate the brief moments of full colour while I still have them?!” He shook Fenton. “Well?!”

Fenton grabbed his hands. “Dude, I’m not gonna say any of that, what the fuck? Quit putting words in my mouth.” He pulled Wes' hands down to his lap, holding them there, firmly restraining them. “I just think it sucks that you got the short end of the stick. I hope you find them soon.”

Wes blinked. Felt himself deflate. “Oh. Uh. Thanks, I guess.”

They sat in silence for a bit, Wes’ hands warmed by Fenton’s. “Uh,”—Fenton began—“if it makes you feel better I’m probably driving my own soulmate to desperate measures trying to find me.” He added under his breath, “Not that I really care.”

Something in Wes’ gut twisted at the thought. He didn’t like trying to think of what Fenton’s soulmate was going through. He didn’t like thinking much about Fenton’s soulmate at all. “It really really doesn’t.”

“Right.” Danny scratched the back of his neck. “Anyway, I’m just gonna slide past that to skip all the awkwardness and get to the part where you give me a popsicle for being a good and brave patient.”

“What are you, 4? I’m not giving you any popsicles.”

“But Wes, I was so strong in the face of such a harrowing procedure!”

“You sat on the couch whining for two minutes while I made you a hot water bottle for your leg.” 

The rest of the night went about as smoothly as usual. Wes, however, couldn’t shake the thought of Fenton’s soulmate. Couldn’t shake the thought of his own soulmate and how much time she might have left.

As he dropped a spare blanket from the closet atop Fenton’s head, he scowled at the boy struggling to escape from under it. He wouldn’t be like Fenton and his nonchalant attitude. Wes wouldn’t stop until he found the person he was meant to be with. No matter what.

---

This was fucking stupid. 

Fenton kept touching him—usually via poking at his hands or giving a high five when he showed up as well as at seemingly random times throughout his visits. 

And he had no clue why.

Wes didn’t particularly love or hate it, but he could tolerate it since it seemed to put a stupid smile on Fenton’s face that looked kinda funny. 

Made him feel a little weird, a little warm, but again not really a problem.  

Or at least, that in itself wasn’t the problem.

The problem was this.

“Fenton.”

“Hm?”

“Fenton.”

Fenton nuzzled into his back, his forehead warming the space between Wes’ shoulder blades. “Yeah?” he said, voice muffled.

Wes gripped the controller with white knuckled hands, nails scratching at the plastic. “What are you doing?”

“Getting comfy.”

“That so?” he said, trying desperately to keep his eyes on the screen in front of him, heedless of the number ticking down. It was a timed stage, but Wes couldn’t bring himself to move his fingers the small distance to press pause. 

“Yup.” His tail loosened his hold around Wes’ waist. “Am I holding too tight?”

“No—” Wes cleared his throat, mortified at the crack in his voice. “Nope.” 

“Cool.” Danny’s tail tightened, slithering a little higher around his chest. He exhaled deeply, warm air ruffling the hair on the back of Wes’ neck. “I’m gonna just chill like this for a while.”

This was too much. Not in a bad ‘skin crawling’ way. Definitely not in a ‘if you touch me I will literally scream’ way. Just—

It was just too much, okay? It made him feel warm and fuzzy and—and—

It made him wonder what would happen if he just forgot about—

The game over screen chimed on the television.

Wes pressed continue.

It was dangerous. It wasn’t in his plans. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

And what of his soulmate? In and out of the hospital for years and then when she finally found him—when she finally braved her illness, and stepped out to the world to find her destined partner—

Would Wes just be… hanging on Fenton’s arm? Just like that?

Wes shook his head. Jamming the buttons on the controller with more force than necessary.

No. He wouldn’t be swayed. This was just his dumbass hormones acting up. 

Objectively Fenton was pretty cute— for a guy, he meant ‘cute for a guy’—and this used to happen all the time when he first joined the basketball team. Totally normal.

Wes was gonna find his soulmate, she was going to be awesome, and maybe they could team up to harass Fenton when he was fighting ghosts. To get payback for all the times he invited himself over whining about tummy aches and stiff shoulders.

Yeah. Just stick to the plan, Wes. Everything will be fine.

---

Everything was not fine.

He kept—kept thinking about it. Late at night, regardless of if Fenton was laying on his couch or not.

Kept wondering what it would be like to play with his hair, to hold him in his arms, to kiss—

Wes pounded his fists on his desk, sending his papers flying. 

The teacher, a substitute for English since Mr. Lancer was out sick, rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

Wes got after school detention. 

Fed up, Wes cornered Manson and Foley later in the day, between classes, asking why Fenton kept showing up and being annoying, clingy, or both. They shared some kind of look between them and then explained it was just a thing with Fenton. Apparently, he’d always loved hugs and high fives, but his penchant for seeking touch seemed to increase after becoming half-ghost. 

The running theory was that since he was getting into fights so often, and subsequently getting much more badly hurt than before his accident, he sought out comfort in proportion to how injured he was. And the best comfort to him was touch.

It was a pretty sound theory, considering everything, but Wes pressed them harder. They hadn’t explained why he continued to show up at Wes’ house no matter where his last ghost attack was—no matter if there was a ghost attack literally right around the block from one of their houses. 

—Not that he’d ever been to either of their houses, but he of course needed to scope out Fenton’s friends to see if he could gather some damning evidence from them. It had ended up pretty fruitless, but he had their addresses pinned to his bulletin board.—

The whole thing made no sense.  

And the way Fenton was starting to squirm into Wes’ heart was dangerous. Wes needed to find his soulmate, the person destined to love him one way or another. That was the only person he’d allow himself to be with. Anyone else would be too risky. Too vulnerable without guarantee.

Still they dodged the question. Trying to trick him into thinking a ghost was behind—oh, hmm, that was a ghost.

Later, when he had ducked into an empty classroom to avoid the attack, when Fenton and his friends had caught the ghost, he would overhear Manson and Foley teasing Fenton over some guy he had a crush on.

Wes would wait to sneak out long after they left to head home, trying to ignore the crushing grip around his heart.

---

Finally. Finally.

A lead. A real tangible plausible lead. On his soulmate— his soulmate!

Wes screamed a little to himself. 

God. God. He knew she was real. He knew she was going to be okay. But more importantly, he knew she was real!

He was straining himself not to print out the article on his monitor, barge into his dad’s room, and scream, “I fucking told you!”

Of course, despite his amazing discovery, that would get him grounded and part of his allowance put in the swear jar, so he settled for rereading the words on the screen again.

“Wraith Makes A Splash!” read the headline, followed by a girl who looked similar to Fenton’s ghost form standing over top the remains of Skulker’s soaking wet and sparking suit, while holding the little green ghost by his foot. The article went on to say the girl called herself ‘Wraith’ and used water-like attacks to short circuit and punch through Skulker’s suit. When asked for a statement, she shrugged and said she didn’t really have anything else to say. When asked to pose for a picture, however, she eagerly agreed.

The article also mentioned the time she had appeared on the scene. And Wes—

Ever since he’d started investigating his soulmate, he’d noted down the exact times his vision faded from full colour to black and white. Had a little notebook that he carried everywhere just for that purpose.

And his most recent entry matched near perfectly with Wraith’s appearance, with his entry being recorded only a few minutes earlier. Factoring in for travel time from wherever she was coming from, it was a no brainer.

And the fact that she looked so similar to Fenton meant that she might be half-ghost too. With a human form. 

She might’ve been going to his school.

The thought made him giddy.

So giddy, in fact, he didn’t notice Fenton appearing in his room until the boy stuck his face in front of Wes’, his own grin on his face.

“Whatcha smiling about?”

Wes jumped, smacking Fenton in the face and falling backwards in his chair. The back legs tipped dangerously and just as Wes started to get that weightless feeling that comes with falling, a hand grabbed his shirt. His torso was saved from the fall, but his legs, unfortunately, weren’t.

“Fuuuuck,” he said, trying to breathe through the pain. Fenton pulled him up into his arms and set him on his bed. After being set down, Wes immediately grabbed for his calves, rubbing at the muscles to attempt to soothe them. “Hell of a time to not bother with the window,” he hissed.

“I did use the window. Just went through it.” 

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“You looked,”—Fenton looked away—“busy.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” He groaned and laid back on the sheets. “What do you want? I’ll smack you if you say you want another bandaid.”

“No, I, uh,”—he quickly glanced at the screen and back to Wes—“wanted to tell you about someone, but I think you already know. I might’ve gotten a bit too excited.”

“‘A bit,’ he says.”

“Hey, it’s not everyday my cousin comes to visit, y’know.”

Wes perked up, pushing himself to sit up. “Wraith is your cousin?” He furrowed his brows. Thought of the very clear physical similarities. “Are you sure about that?”

“Well, that’s what we tell everyone anyway. And how we like to call our relationship.” Fenton pushed him to lay down again. “She’s really my clone. Courtesy of one of Vl— Plasmius’ messed up schemes.”

“You can just tell me his name. I’m not gonna tell anyone.” Fenton raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I’ve given up on outing secret identities.”

“Oh yeah? Since when?”

“Uhh,”—Shit, he couldn’t just say ‘since I got an annoyingly inconvenient crush on you that still hasn’t gone away even after finding my soulmate’—“Since Dash stopped wearing Axe body spray at the start of the semester.”

“He did not.”

“He did.”

“Source?”

“DJTM.”

“‘Dude, just trust me’? Really?” Fenton moved Wes’ hands away and started rubbing his calves himself. Wes very carefully kept himself relaxed, hoping beyond hope Fenton couldn’t hear his heartbeat thumping loudly in his chest. “You think I didn’t know what that meant? I’m insulted.”

“I’m insulted by how much of a blabbermouth you think I am.”

“It’s not that—” He paused. “Well, it’s not just that.”

“Hey! I’m not dumb enough to try outing somebody way stronger than you!”

Fenton tapped a hand to his chin. “So if I was, say, the mayor would you still try outing me?”

“Weird choice, but ehh,”—Wes wiggled his hand—“maybe. Depends on the circumstances.”

“You mean the circumstances of how I become the mayor or how much you end up liking me being the mayor?”

“Both. Also depends on if you still embarrass me, but in front of the town this time.”

Fenton’s lip twitched and he looked like he was holding in laughter, though Wes didn’t think he’d said anything particularly funny. “Listen, okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t think people would actually make fun of you this long.”

“Aha! But you did expect them to make fun of me!” He crossed his arms. “You should prove me right and reveal yourself to the school to make it up to me.”

Fenton huffed a laugh. “Not a chance. I’ll bring some donuts next time I come though.”

“Who says I’ll let you in next time?”

“You will,” he said simply, an easy smile on his face. As if those two words were some kind of absolute truth in the world. Wes didn’t know how to feel about that. “Anyway, we’re getting off topic. How come you were looking up Wraith?”

He lit up with the reminder of his earlier discovery, sitting up to grab Fenton’s shoulders. “I finally did it! I found her! Wraith is my soulmate!”

Fenton stared at him, the smile sliding off his lips in his shock. “What?” he said faintly.

Wes nodded. “It all makes sense! My vision keeps switching between full colour and grayscale because my soulmate is a half-ghost! Her!” He pointed at the monitor, a wide grin on his face. “All this time and effort and knowing I was right finally paid off!” He gripped Fenton’s shoulders tighter. “You have to introduce me.”

“But,” he said, sounding absolutely dumbfounded. “That’s impossible. Ellie can’t be your soulmate.” 

“I get the whole wanting to protect your younger family members thing—not literally because unfortunately Kyle and Easton are older than me—but like, in general, I get it. However,”—he leaned closer to Fenton, ignoring how it made his traitorous heart flutter—“I won’t let your stupid overprotectiveness stop me from meeting her.”

Fenton pulled away, looking a little uncomfortable. “I mean, if you wanna meet her so bad, I’m not gonna keep her away or anything, but I’m telling you it’s impossible she’s your soulmate. Literally,”—he waved a hand, movements jerky, robotic—“she might look our age, but she was only created six months ago. You’ve been dealing with your soulmate dying way longer than that.”

And just like that, Wes’ world was crumbling down, brick by brick, piece by piece. 

It was a possibility, in the back of his head, that the fact the timestamps didn’t line up exactly was an indication that this new ghost girl wasn’t his soulmate.

But what were the alternatives? What else could possibly explain his soulmate’s situation?

Plasmius was already ruled out. Wes had watched Fenton’s friends take care of him on the news once, while Fenton himself was huddled next to him, having knocked on his front door—in human form—to ask to stay with him a while. Wes’ vision had stayed in full colour long after Manson and Foley managed to blast the shit out of him, yelling something about kidnapping bitches getting stitches or something. 

Fenton, too, was out. There was that big fiasco with Technus a while back where Phantom was seen fighting him day and night for a few days. Apparently, not the whole time, though, as Wes had seen him in human form when his dad dragged him and Kyle out to go bowling. He was having fun with his friends and looking… happier than before. Though, something about him seemed inherently off. Not that Wes could investigate; he had his own problems.

Those few days with Phantom fighting Technus happened to coincide with the colour perception in his vision deciding to split in half. 

One eye could see in colour. 

The other couldn’t.

It was incredibly disorienting. And it had terrible timing.

The split colour vision had unfortunately happened at the same time as a practical test in Chemistry. When they were using litmus strips. He tried to ask for his test to be postponed until his vision returned to normal, or at least a longer time frame for the test itself— very adamantly, he might add—but the more he argued—the more frustrated he got—the less Ms. Faluca seemed to believe him. The students too.

And he guessed rumours spread quickly, because what little help he got from his classmates and teachers in other classes started to dwindle drastically. 

It lost what little respect he still had with his favourite science teacher. Lost him the scraps of help he was able to argue for over the past two years. Lost what little trust his own father had in him.

There was nothing else.

“Hey,” a soft voice said. He slowly looked up from where he’d been staring listlessly at his lap. “Just ‘cause it wasn’t Ellie doesn’t mean you’re wrong.”

Wes didn’t care about trying to figure out what he meant. “It’s not her. So I’m wrong. My soulmate just doesn’t exist. I’m—” He breathed through the tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m just making it all up. I’ve been one of those few people who never got one and I made this all up for attention. To be special. To get allowances other kids don’t—”

“Hey!” Fenton shouted, slapping his hands on Wes’ cheeks. “Do not say that shit about yourself. You aren’t any of those things.”

“Says who?” Wes said, feeling more present with the stinging pain. “The guy who’s been giving his own soulmate a heart attack every time he transforms?” Wes jabbed Fenton’s chest with each point, his voice raising the longer he went on. “The guy who got himself killed on a dare from his friends? The guy who shows up outside my window pathetically asking for kisses on his booboos and using me as a convenient distraction to forget the outside world? The guy who lets himself get shot at on the daily by his own parents because he’s afraid they might yell at him for keeping it secret?” 

“Wes, that’s not—”

“Not what? Not right? Then please, elaborate. What did I say that was wrong? Go on, I’ll wait.” Wes leaned back and crossed his arms. “Maybe if I wait long enough your soulmate will kick it too. Not that you’d care about that.”

Fenton closed his eyes, breathing deeply once. He floated off the bed, towards the window. He put one hand on the frame, pausing. 

“You’re my friend and you’re hurting,” he said quietly. “But I can’t be here right now.”

He left. 

Quietly and without a fuss.

Wes slammed a pillow over his head and screamed.

---

It took a long time for Fenton to come around again.

Less out of a want to visit and more because of a legitimate injury.

It wasn’t anything that bad—just a knife wound in his shoulder from Skulker—but it still needed to be cleaned and bandaged before the blood loss started to get to him.

Fenton stayed silent as Wes wrapped him up. 

Wes tied off the bandage. Left to put away the first aid kit. 

When he returned, Fenton was gone.

---

The days without Fenton were dull. Much more than before their argument. More, even, than before that first night the ghost boy showed up on his balcony. When he was trying to out Fenton’s identity for revenge.

When his primary focus was finding his—

He kicked his chair, watching as it rolled across the room and knocked into the wall. Ignored his dad yelling to keep it down.

His chest heaved. He grabbed the nearest object, moved to chuck it at the drywall—

He glanced at the window. The lock sitting open, collecting dust.

He felt the anger drain out of him.

It was all over. All that hope that he would finally find someone who understood him, who accepted him, who loved him for who he was not who he might be —

Gone. 

And then, the guy he would have probably called a friend, was now avoiding him because of Wes’ own stupid mistakes.

God fuck. What was he supposed to do now?

He moved to set down the little thing in his hand, but paused. Stared at it.

---

“Heyyyy, Wes,” Danny said in a sing-song voice, floating through his window with his arms behind his back.

“WWWWhaaat the fuck do you want?” Wes answered in kind.

“Well, I heard a rumour about someone’s birthday~”

Wes groaned. “Please don’t punch my arm with your stupid ghost strength.”

“What? Oh, right, I forgot about that.” Wes groaned louder. “Oh shut up, I’m not gonna give you birthday beats.”

Wes set his pencil down atop his homework. “You’re not?”

“Nope!” He set a large wrapped box down on Wes’ desk, right on top of his binder. Danny waited, eagerly bobbing in the air. “Go on, open it!”

He tore off the wrapping paper. Dug through a bunch of packing peanuts. Searching and searching and starting to get frustrated and wonder if it was all just a stupid fucking prank —

His hand met something smooth and detailed.

Wes pulled out a small figurine of himself, a clear and tinged light blue, standing confidently and wearing a Sherlock Holmes costume. He turned it over in his hand, looking at all the small details — the small ‘string’ on top of the deer cap, the plaid patterned etchings in the cape, the magnifying glass —

It was amazing. 

Danny grinned. “Happy birthday, Wes.”

---

Wes resolved himself, staring at that little figurine. 

Next time Fenton came over he’d—well, he would apologize first. Then maybe give him a popsicle.

#danny phantom #phic #nemo the writing ho #wes weston #ufs #tumblr version! finally! #i kept accidentally putting this off but its hereeee

[lightyearssurrogatedaddy]

the straight A student gets nowhere in life because they're used to following directions and not trying another path.

the D student who has mental breakdowns every time they're set down to testing however...

anyways I've been thinking about the school system lately. I've recently discovered that if I turn schoolwork into a stim activity I forget that it's actually supposed to teach me stuff. At this point I'm just repeating what they say and daydreaming mindlessly about my fics and future activities.

so how can I fix the school system... since I figured out a way around it by ignoring it completely, what's a way I can suggest betterments?

blah blah blah, not that 'frequent breaks' and 'applying yourself'

that's bullcrap, c'mon I tried that for years and only got more stressed.

the main problem with schoolwork is that it's boring, and it doesn't properly measure intelligence at all. Yes, the things they do mention, like science, language arts, history, all very important, but they're not letting us come to the discovery ourselves, which makes the value of learning that 'protons are positive' completely meaningless.

there's no reward. The 'reward' we get is good grades and praise, which actually harm our want to learn even further! If the prospect of a reward is the driving force to do something, you're gunna do that something as lazily as you can get away with just to get that reward.

so first you remove grades.

but then you're left with a boring quiz that doesn't hold any sense of accomplishment once you finish it, so why do it?

most of you read books, what makes you keep reading it? My mother says that the reason she keeps reading is cus she wants to know how it ends, so that means she has questions right? Questions about the story, characters, etcetc. And a phrase I hear sometimes in the writing community is, "Its not about what happens, its how it happens."

so if we make the educational system more like reading a book... A short expositional phase that gets the student's attention, filled with questions, possibilities, and few answers... basically get the student involved, get them outside, have them look at something complex and complicated and get them to say, "I wanna know more about THAT."

Also like with drawing! Most people start drawing because of professional art they saw.

creativity and curiosity are VITAL in learning new concepts.

here's more about how predictable today's system is. Most of my answers are based entirely off of PURELY the word choice of the question, I get questions right just by seeing which answer is 'fancier' looking.

you want kids to pay attention in class? Don't give them A,B,C answers, dummy, give them a topic and they'll come up with their own answer. Doesn't matter if they're wrong or right, they tried to answer it, just keep exploring the topic and they'll come to the conclusion eventually.

treat the subject like a discussion. I learned that in America, you can't eat a dead body off the side of the road because it qualifies as having the corpse in your possession. And it only stuck in my brain because there were a lot of people adding onto the conversation.

and no, taking students outside with worksheets and explaining how a river works is not a good example of learning.

teacher who put that 'Learning is Fun!' poster on their walls are the bane of my existence. Cus they always bullshit people if they don't do their work correctly.

if I've repeated words someone's already said I'm very sorry, I don't mean to bore people with the same old sentence over and over again :( I'm genuinely just frustrated with school and it's been boiling in my brain for the past few years.

#school #lsd's bullshit #small rant #school system #i still hate math tho

[occasionallykettle]

lucas headcanons because he is the most underrated but complex character in stranger things

he is not afraid to apologise when he knows he's wrong, but he absolutely refuses to apologise when he thinks there's even a chance that he's right.

he used to collect pinecones when he was little. like, really little (i have no clue where this one came from lmao).

he actively goes out of his way to argue with flat earthers. flat earthers become the bane of his existence in the 2000s. he pretends to hate going on forums and arguing with flat earthers, but he secretly loves it.

he uses random capitalisation to annoy people (particularly dustin, who is abnormally keen on keeping texts formal) when texting, and he uses all caps when arguing with someone over text.

when arguing with people on the forums, however, he uses precise punctuation, grammar and spelling--all of that is out the window when arguing with someone over text that he knows personally.

if kahoot existed when he was in middle school, he would have gotten top 5 every time--his strategy? screaming the wrong answer out loud so that other people get it wrong.

mike would go to him to discuss how his relationship with el doesn't feel like romance (and never did), accidentally spilling that he has romantic feelings for will, and then lucas would be totally chill and supportive about it. he would even give relationship advice to mike.

when he was little (around pinecone collecting age), he begged his parents to get him a drum kit (but one specifically made for children) for a week or so. he tried playing it once, then never touched it ever again.

he would smoke once, then knowing it's bad for you, would never smoke again (in the context of the modern day).

he makes a youtube channel in the future and posts content with a similar theme to Austin McConnell's. and he has never missed a single week of posting.

will had the teeniest crush on him in elementary school (just like an admiration crush)--i got this from somewhere on tumblr, i apologise for not being able to find the post, but i think that's perfect and absolutely what happened.

he used to watch fights in the school hall in silence (no hyping, just watching), but he would be the one to warn everyone when the teacher was coming.

he acts like he is an expert in relationships, but really he is only good in a relationship with max. that's partly due to the fact that max and him are really compatible, but also because he bases his romance off of his/max's personality instead of romcoms (unlike a certain "couple" that i know, ahem). in reality, he doesn't know how to deal with other people's relationships.

him and erica have a much better and more connected relationship that the show depicts on the surface. they've been through the real stuff together.

there's probably more that are stored somewhere deep inside my mind. if i remember any of them, i'll be sure to post some more lucas headcanons.

#i don't know where i got some of these lmao #like the pinecones one and the youtube channel one #the kahoot one is kind of a given though #lucas sinclair #stranger things #stranger things hc #stranger things hcs #lucas sinclair headcanons #stranger things headcanons #byler #lumax

[conostra]

Griffith's Relationships (6)

The White Hawk. The White Phoenix. The King of Falconia. The Savior. Femto. The Blessed King of Longing. Once, the greatest mortal to ever wield a sword. The bane of the Black Swordsman. The most beautiful man alive. Him with a stature nothing short of pure magnificence. You know him. You love to hate him. I’m talking about one of the greatest characters not just in manga, but in all of fiction: Griffith.

Griffith is one of many examples of how masterful Kentaro Miura was with a pen, be it pressing against a notebook or a panel. An incredibly written character, as complex as they can come, with some of the most complicated, deep, and tragic relationships I’ve ever seen put to any form of media.

Today, I’ll be discussing what is inarguably a core tenet of Berserk: Griffith’s relationships. With two exceptions, there is no dispute that Griffith’s relationships are not the singular most important part of the media he resides in, there is no debate over whether or not they are still crucial parts of understanding both Guts’ disposition, and the world of Berserk itself. Griffith’s different approaches to interacting with those in his vicinity warps the very world itself, and his whims shape the very nature of the conflicts the protagonist engages in.

Here, we will be discussing Griffith’s most important relationships through Berserk, how they shaped him, and what they explain about who he is and how he got to where he is now.

Part 1: The Boy, and The Hawks

Part 2: The Governor.

Part 3: The King.

Part 4: Charlotte.

Part 5: The Wings of the Hawk (1)

Part 6: The Wings of the Hawk (2)

______________________________________________________________

Part 6: The Wings of the Hawk (2)

Love. Hatred. Love and hatred and a burning, smothering, suffocating desire. Those are the things that define how Griffith felt about Guts. There is no other way to put it. There is some amount of discourse around whether or not Griffith’s attachment to Guts is platonic, romantic, sexual, or whatever- I am here to tell you that it does not matter. (but to be clear, it is at least a little gay. Sexuality and attraction are a spectrum, and something can be homoerotic without necessarily being homosexual. But the undertones and subtext in much of Griffith’s interactions and feelings towards Guts is there. It’s pretty clear.) Griffith’s emotions are so garbled, his feelings, how he perceives the dynamics of lust, love, affection, appreciation, power, and control are so tangled up and destroyed by even the time he meets Guts, that every single interaction involving any of those feelings has to involve all of them. They are so inextricably connected through trauma and his history that their influences on each other must be taken into account. 

Like at their very first meeting. While Griffith had spotted Guts when he fought against Bazuso, noticing the insane, borderline-suicidal tactic that Guts had used to best him, their first real exchange is after Guts killed some of his men, and was about to slaughter Casca and Corkus. Griffith bears no ill will towards him, merely asking, “Would you lower your sword?” When he sees Guts’ reaction, he reluctantly continues, “I guess not…” before parrying his swing and relatively gently disarming him with a strike to the armpit. A few days later, after Griffith ordered Casca to assist him in staying warm, as was, supposedly, her duty, his first words to him are to compliment his strength and swordsmanship, admitting he could never wield the way Guts does. Later on, in the same conversation, Griffith puts all his chips out at once with a single statement, point blank: “Because I realized I want you, Guts.” Guts rebukes this because of his own personal issues, and Griffith’s response is casual, asking what Guts will do, and admitting that he does not dislike violence as an answer when that response is violence. It’s all laid out here. “I must obtain the things I desire.” Whatever Griffith thinks this means, however he intended it, it’s perhaps the most honest summarization of himself in the series. 

And then, they fight. And all this does is improve Guts’ status as an object of Griffith’s desire. He is unwavering, willing to put life and limb on the line with every swing. He has incredible spur-of-the-moment plans that work in his favor, incredibly absurd strategies that somehow sway the tide to play to his strengths. He even manages, if only for a moment, to flip the script on Griffith, getting some very solid hits in before Griffith ultimately incapacitates him. And from here; Griffith is certain. Guts is his, and Guts will be his, and Guts will be the best thing he has ever had. Despite Guts’ issues with Griffith at this point, Griffith immediately begins entrusting him with very important, vital parts of the Hawks’ survival. The next mission, he is assigned to head their rear guard, making sure the Hawks are not overrun by enemy soldiers as they flee from the raid they are to perform. Most people think Griffith did this on purpose, as Guts would either run away or get slaughtered. But a few understand what this assignment really means- Griffith trusts Guts 100%, already. Later in that mission, Griffith even returns to save Guts after he put his life on the line to save more men. They play together, and Griffith strikes a chord deep in Guts as he proclaims he will one day have his own kingdom, sparking something that will lay dormant for years, but eventually fire back at him. And he puts more faith in Guts all the same, entrusting him with 10 men after his first mission, the number only increasing as Guts proves more and more why Griffith’s faith is not misplaced. 

They play off of each other very well. Guts is reckless, but fierce, and loyal. His skill with a sword is matched only by his willingness, an almost insatiable itch, to swing. And Griffith is just as skilled, just as fierce, but his strength lies not in his strength, but in his ability to plan, to account for Guts’ ferocity as part of his overarching goals. And together, they ascend through Midland’s army, Griffith becoming nobility as they begin to turn the tide against Chuder. The relationship reaches its ultimate test when Griffith puts his life on the line to assist Guts against the legendary battlefield hurricane, Nosferatu Zodd, the immortal mercenary who’s torn war fields to shreds for over a century. Risking and losing soldiers by the dozen, his own life hanging by a thread after the fact, forcing Casca to take the others and retreat, Griffith cements here the idea that Guts alone is worth the risk, and potential forfeiture, of his own life. But Griffith counts on their combined will to see them through the day, the combination of their strength, endurance, and the combined fate they both share. And as the Crimson Behelit drives the creature with the inhuman name Nosferatu Zodd off the battlefield, it only ascertains to Griffith that he and Guts stand above in terms of what they are capable of, and what they are fated for. Only the two of them could have possibly survived long enough for the Behelit to come into play as a deciding factor for their lives in the first place.

And this is Casca’s issue when she argues with Guts, asking what exactly it is that Griffith sees in him. Of course, she recognizes that this only happened to Griffith because of Guts. But what she fails to accept in the moment, and what even the two themselves don’t quite know or understand, is that this would not have happened to Griffith if it was anyone but Guts. When the rumor of Zodd’s appearance is shared, it is no one but Guts who is Griffith’s primary concern. Not all the men in the castle. Not all his warriors on the field. Not the others he has deemed as captains around him, who would have to fight the beast should Guts fail- it is Guts alone which occupies Griffith’s mind.

And after Griffith heals from his injuries enough to walk, what does he do? He goes straight to Guts, who is training despite clearly still being injured. And he does something he has never found reason to do- he justifies his behavior, and explains why he is doing what he is doing. If Guts does what he must on the battlefield, Griffith does whatever he must to gain favor, approval, and less prestigious advantages, but advantages nonetheless, as the face of the Hawks. He must navigate the battles of political intrigue, the shifting tides and domineering armies of the royal court, the same way Guts must lead the raiders to a battlefield where blood is spilled instead of secrets and gold.

And once again, Griffith is frighteningly transparent to Guts here. And once again, Guts does not understand. 

Why, he asks, does Griffith continue to stake his life over one, single, lone soldier, out of his army? 

And Griffith’s answer is clear:

“Tell me…

Do I need a reason each time I put myself in harm’s way for your sake?”

It could not get any more obvious than this. Griffith is a man of a million reasons, a man who juggles complex logistics the same way we might a pair of fruits. And yet, here he is, admitting that despite the facade of logic, and cold, calculated reason that he shows, there are things he values beyond that. Rather, his language makes it clear. A single thing. One thing, beyond all others, that he is willing to put himself at death’s door for. Guts. And still, Guts does not understand the weight behind the words. And, in his fairness, Griffith is a man of shocking truths behind muffled and insulated airs. He hides each dagger behind a smile, and each motive behind further motives still. And yet, this here is the unadulterated truth. Guts is as valuable to him as his own life.

And this continues for a long time. Guts is told Griffith’s plans, his information, things that he has shared with no other soul, given glimpses into plans years in the making, even let in on and participating in Griffith’s plans to assassinate many of the nobles and royalty that stand in, not his, but their way to prominence. And during these missions, Guts makes decisions that he regrets, that cause him to spiral, that cause him to question his allegiances and his devotion to Griffith’s dream. And one day, he hears Griffith wooing Charlotte, and Griffith says something to her.

“What I think a friend is, is one who is my equal.”

This something is what finally widens the schism in Guts’ heart. He feels as though he is not Griffith’s equal, that he has no greater aspiration for himself, that he currently just is not worth being Griffith’s friend. But what Guts does not understand here is that Griffith is blustering. Guts is already the closest thing Griffith could ever consider an equal. Guts is already the thing Griffith can consider closest to a friend, a soulmate, a partner, a lover, whatever you can call what Griffith would truly regard as an equal. Whatever Griffith says here about his stance, there is nothing that Guts can say or do that can advance himself any further in Griffith’s mind. 

And this is proven on the fated day. The day that Guts finally decides to challenge Griffith once again. To Guts, this is the first step in a long journey, a journey to prove not only to Griffith, but to himself, that he is worthy of being held in the same regard as the lofty ambitions that occupy the primary space in Griffith’s heart. But to Griffith, this is nowhere near the same. This is not Guts attempting to prove his kinship- far from it. This is treason. This is near-blasphemous. This is the ultimate betrayal. He is attempting to remove himself from not just the Hawks, but from Griffith. Guts is rebuking everything that Griffith has extended towards him, and in turn, Griffith himself. Griffith’s poisoned understanding of relationships makes this as seething and burning as it is heart-wrenching for Guts. For Guts to denounce Griffith’s only true feelings amongst a sea of affectations that Guts alone should be able to see through? Why, this is the same as spitting in his face and asking to be apologized to. And as Griffith once said, he is not a man who dislikes violence as a solution. So, the two stand off. And in a non-verbal exchange between all the characters present, something is made absolutely clear once again: This is, far and away, the most devastating misunderstanding that could have possibly occurred here. But the fault does not fall solely on either of them individually.

Guts has, at this point in time, made his goals in leaving very clear. Very clear, that is, to everyone except the White Phoenix General himself. The man before him, Griffith, has no understanding of the true motivation Guts has besides the fact that Guts indeed wants to leave. And that is the only information Guts gives him. And on Griffith’s end, he can see no other reason that Guts wants to leave, other than to simply be rid of him. While they are stanced, readying themselves to engage, Guts is thinking about how, at the very least, Griffith being willing to fight him means he is still willing to spill blood over Guts, including his, and including his own. Griffith, on the other hand, is having a meltdown. His focus wavers. He spirals out, thinking to himself: 

“Do you want to go? 

Is this how badly you want to leave my grasp? 

You can’t. You can’t! I won’t have it!

 I won’t let you!” 

As he thinks on how to defeat Guts, he falls on a single option that might potentially end his life here. But in this manic state, the first time witnesses besides Casca acknowledge that Griffith’s usual poise is completely deserted, he acknowledges this and continues on: 

“Even then… if I can’t have him, I don’t care!” 

But, he does. Oh, so obviously, so clearly, he does. And when Guts beats him, calmly, without harming him at all, Griffith collapses, dropping his rapier. He is completely, utterly broken with this single swipe. Guts simply tells him, “Take care.” And he leaves the Hawks. And he leaves Griffith, alone. Sure, the other commanders, the other relevant members of the army are there by his side. But what does that matter? Griffith has finally been bested. Not just bested, humiliated. It has been asserted in no uncertain terms that he does not have the sway he thinks he does. And that, in his eyes, his camaraderie, his trust, his faith, his love, is not worth holding on to.

So he goes off. That same night, he gallavants with Charlotte, taking her virginity, and during the whole act, despite him almost claiming Charlotte, assuage her fears and pleasuring her, it is Guts who dominates his mind. It is Guts he sees as Charlotte orgasms, and it is Guts’ voice he hears as she cries out. All he can envision as he asserts himself onto this girl, who is in completely and utterly helpless love with him, is the only man he truly cared for, giving him one final good-bye. Charlotte does not notice his thousand-yard stare, his vacant eyes. But we do. And we see that it is Guts that rules his decision-making. Even after they make love, all he can do is caress the mark on his shoulder that was left from Guts’ blade, and cry in Charlotte’s bed. Griffith is arrested for this act of high treason, and sent to rot with the torturer in the deepest dungeon in Midland. And with all of this happening, throughout the entire year of his torture, slowly being driven mad, trapped in the darkness with only his thoughts and the torchlight of the thing hired to bring him naught but suffering, chained and strung up, he has no words besides the last he had uttered. 

“...Yes. Worthless. This is worthless.”

And in that infinite darkness, when time flows as it stagnates, when brightness flashes dull, there was a single thing, not keeping him sane, as his sanity was up for question long ago, but keeping his consciousness anchored to this mortal coil- Guts. every time he envisioned his face, every feeling he could still feel stirred within him.

“Malice, Friendship, Jealousy, Futility, Regret, Tenderness, Sorrow, Pain, Hunger… So many recurring, yearning feelings. That giant swirl of violent emotions in which none are definite but all are implied.” 

Griffith even finally acknowledges that, at the end of this raving speech in a madman’s perpetual dying gasp, perhaps… perhaps his goal was no longer the castle on high. Why, he asked, in this vision in his light, did the castle’s glow reduce to a pale shimmer compared to the sight of his face, the sound of his voice, the mere idea of his presence? Since when did Guts get the grip over him that he had so firmly, so soundly, over Guts instead? 

Since when did Guts become Griffith’s dream?

And who else could lead the charge to save him from this endless nightmare, but his waking dream himself? When Griffith’s eyes open, and there is not pure darkness, there is Guts. After a long, brutal year, the first thing he sees is none other than Guts. And his first instinct after all this time, after all the suffering, and prolonging in turn, Guts has caused him, Griffith seeks to choke him. And what does Guts do, after seeing the man to whom he aspired, crippled and weakened to the desperate state he was in? He cries. He cries over Griffith, who softens his grip, and instead grabs his hand.

After their escape, where each of the commanders of the Hawks puts their lives on the line to save Griffith, killing the Bakiraka and the Black Dog Knights, finally, Grifith is returned to the light in peace. But through it all, Griffith realized his body was in tatters. He had no strength left to hold a sword. He could barely mouth words, and speaking was out of the question through the loss of his tongue. And through it all, he saw Guts perform. He was a demon in battle, his strength incalculable. He tore through man and Apostle alike. His every word carried the gravitas of a leader for decades. He did not carry the same incredible airs as Griffith, but every word carried with it a domineering force. The men respected him, and they would follow him to the ends of the earth. With or without Griffith to lead. In fact, they insisted. And Griffith had even overheard the very moment that Guts truly had stolen away Casca- evidence abound both before and after she vented about how pitiable his fragile form had become, and how much time would be needed to gently nurse him back to health. If he could even return to a state where he could live on his own again, of course. And only after the horrific embarrassment, the final stripping away of Griffith’s mystique, his humanity, at the hands of Wyld, the leader of the Black Dogs. 

And somehow, motivated by a hallucination, or perhaps a waking dream, Griffith manages to take off with a carriage, before being vaulted into the air, and landing in the lake. The lake where he attempts to take his own life. The lake where the Behelit lies. The lake where, after all this time, the Eclipse occurs. 

And we know what happens in the Eclipse. We are well aware. And we know what happens with Casca, and Griffith, and Guts. And during this transformation, where Griffith supposedly reaches this ascended, emotionless form, he does but one thing. He still, after all of this, wishes to put Guts through the same torture, same repulsive emotions that he went through in that dungeon. By taking away from him the one he loves. By stripping him of his aspirations. After all, the only thing that can equal the loss of a dream, is the stripping of a dream in turn. But through this act, he shall never have the one thing he had wished for. He is the Blessed King of Longing, and forever shall he desire. 

______________________________________________________________

Griffith is a complex, multi-faceted, tragic, broken character. More occurs later on with him, and with Guts, and Casca, and with the straggler of the Hawks who was saved by the Knight of Skull, but all of it is rooted in these interactions. As the series draws on, an inevitable march towards its ultimate conclusion, I can’t help but wonder just how Kentaro Miura was capable of writing such a captivating story, with such realistic, gripping motivations for such realistic, gripping characters. Every character is worth having as a favorite. And every character is worth wishing for a happy ending. Except, of course, for a few. But even then, I wish he achieved his dream. I just dream that other means were taken. Rest in peace Miura. And thank you. May your dream live on through Kouji Mori, and through us.

#Berserk #Guts #Casca #Griffith #Rant Over #(they're gay.) #Griffith is my GOAT #and watching the golden age knowing only that he was evil was terrible #because he was such a compelling character with such human traits #human flaws #human desires #human needs #and knowing the ending only made the build-up more and more sinister #and it only broke my heart worse and worse #go watch berserk #go read the manga #RIP Kentaro Miura

[c-130jsuperhercules]

okay rant on dark souls poison swamp got too long

like. one of the ways people fault darks souls 2 is that Miyazaki wasn’t very heavily involved in it. But apparently, looking at the other games, ds2 was even better for it. Like, take each games obligatory poison level, and i know i’ve ranted about this before, but holy shit. Dark souls 1, blighttown. the top part, fantastic, once you get past all the frame dropping issues. the verticality of it, the complexity of it, the way it makes you change up your play style, love it. The bottom tho? the bottom of blighttown? i will die on the hill of how bad and boring it is, not that anyone reasonable would kill me for it. You get past this amazing level of spooky mosquitos coming after you, evil dogs, stupid fucking toxic dart shooters, elevators, the whole nine yards only to get to the bottom and be introduced to Walking Simulator but it Hurts 2011. And, you have to keep going back there if you want to finish like three or four npc quests. 

DS3? Ohh, now there’s a miyazaki poison swamp alright. This time, he didn’t even put a blighttown before it, and don’t get me wrong, road of sacrifices is a pretty decent level, but it wasn’t blighttown with five extra years of thought put into it. this time, we’re spared the npc quests in favor of having a fuckton of items(one or two of which you do need to grab for an npc quest tho). I will give ds3 that it does have better enemies in it than ds1, tho. rock throwing fucko got nothing on the elder ghru. And we can see that this time, FromSoft heard people say “ohhhhhh the poison at the bottom of blighttown almost killed me so oftennnnnnn, it was so annoying to have to mitigate for the sake of some npcs and a couple items” and decided to just drop the poison damage down to fucking nothing. I have genuinely not used a poison cure item out of necessity in ds3 everrrr. At least the boss fight that came afterwards was badass.

Dark Souls 2. Now, i may be biased, but i do believe Harvest Valley is the best poison “swamp” between the three. Here, poison is actually a danger, but there’s enough items around and in a small enough area that it feels like holding your breath to dig around in a radioactive treasure chest, instead of wallowing through the equivalent of a prostate exam if the guy you’re elbow deep in suddenly decides to kegel really hard and twist. Instead of standing ankle deep in poop water, you at times are wading through a toxic miasma, that sticks to your skin and continues to make that poison meter rise unless you use several poison mosses to wait it out, use a cleansing spell, or bathe! BATHE you can fucking bathe by rolling in water. Poison even does about five times more damage, compared to ds3, simultaneously making poison builds viable while making the entire way they approached poison different. Instead of it just being a status effect that puts a little timer on how long you can trudge around for, it is an actively threatening experience, you have to cure it as soon as possible or you will be facing some heavy losses. The devs, recognizing that, made it so it’s not an ever-present, yet mild hazard, but something more akin to a trap from ds1 sen’s fortress. And that’s not even getting into earthen fucking peak

Earthen fucking peak is one of my favorite areas in any souls game. It’s unorthodox, it’s fun, it’s vertical, it’s surprising, i love it. There’s several hidden doors, headless fucks, women you can make out with(but watch out), an old shifty fuck who makes ladders, you see pate again, elevators, hidden rooms, and the main advantage it has over blighttown(in addition to being a larger, more fleshed out level with a lot more stuff going on), is how well the boss at the end ties it all together. When you get through Blighttown, you face Quelaag. When you get through farron keep, you face the Abyss watchers. Neither of these bosses share a connection with their boss run except by lore. Mytha, the Baneful Queen, tho? Not only is she a headless snake lady, akin to the headless manikins and the poisoned area, but her boss room is almost filled with poison that heals her if she stays in it. However, if you set fire to the windmill(which you can find out how to do bc a npc summon will help guide you and point to it and cheer when you do it) below her boss room, the poison stops getting pumped up there, making the poison ring around you smaller, and the boss fight that much easier. Like fuck yeah! That’s what i call interesting level design! That’s what i call sticking to a theme! Not to mention, you kill her deeply devoted and in-love-with-her servant on the first floor, then go upstairs to meet her, so the entire is a metaphor for cuckolding.

#okay jesus long rant that doesn't make too much sense below the cut. #rant

[gggoldfinch]

talk to me about star wars! tell me all about it!! I know very little about it and am willing like to be educated by a professional such as yourself!!! tell me about anything that's giving you the brain worms! goldfinch rant time go go go

(i'm sat, notebook open and pen ready to take notes ✍️)

SCREAMIFN SHAKING CRYING THROWING UP EXPLODING INTO A CLOUD OF CONFETTI YIPPEEEEE YIPEE YIPPE YIPYIPEEEE I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU

Okay so the basics are that the movies are split into three trilogies and tell the story of a bloodline (aka the Skywalker saga), and each movie is called an Episode (1-9). The first trilogy is caked the Prequels, and follows Anakin (Darth Vader) and Padmé, Luke and Leia’s parents. Second trilogy is called the Original Trilogy (which sequentially came out first and is the one pretty much everyone is at least somewhat familiar with), which follows Luke and Leia. The third trilogy and most divisive is the Sequels, which follows Leia and Han’s son and Palpatine’s granddaughter (yikes…). Then there’s the stand alone movies Solo, which is a prequel to Han Solo’s story in the Original Trilogy, and Rogue One, which is a prequel to the events of the Original Trilogy. I recommend watching them in canon timeline order, even if the film quality differences are jarring 🤣 (I personally prefer the visual dark fantasy effects of the Original Trilogy, but I digress)

MY personal favorites are the Prequel movies, specifically The Phantom Menace (Episode 1) and Attack of the Clones (Episode 2), and the standalone movies Solo, and Rogue One (which I believe is objectively one of, if not THE best Star Wars movie to date); however growing up I only ever saw the Original Trilogy, and not very often. I only really got into Star Wars when I was around 18-19 years old. Once when I was a little kid my local library (which was fancy and had a projection theater in the basement) was showing Return of the Jedi (Episode 6) and invited the kids to dress up; so while everyone was dressed up like little Leias and Anakins, my ass was an Ewok (my costume was spot on btw). I got sick halfway thru with like a 101F fever and had to leave 😭

THEN there’s the TV shows. The animated ones, The Clone Wars, and Rebels, are modern television classics and are beloved in-fandom (and although I have personal beef with Rebels i don’t deny it’s a good show lmao). More recently there’s been a surge of live-action TV shows, like The Mandalorian, beloved by all, and recently Ashoka. So far I’ve only watched The Mandalorian, The Book of Boba Fett (which are both my favorites), and Kenobi, so I can’t necessarily speak to the quality of the others (being Ashoka, and Andor) but I’ve heard they’re great too. There are other animated shows too, like Visions (which I have seen) and Bad Batch (which I’ve partially seen), which are also good.

My favorite character, as is obvious by my shrine blog, is Darth Maul, the first apprentice of Emperor Palpatine introduced in The Phantom Menace. He himself is a menace🫡 After his first appearance he’d then go on to have major plot arcs in The Clone Wars and Rebels (the latter of which I don’t ever want to think about ❤️), and also a very hot cameo in Solo. He’s a very complex, deep, and a deeply troubled character (and is also physical disability rep), and he means so much to me. His story is beautifully fleshed out and I just. AAAAAA he’s in the top 5 bracket of my favorite blorbos of all time tbh 🥰

Other runners up for my favorites are: Din Djarin aka The Mandalorian, Boba Fett, Savage Opress (Maul’s beefstick brother played by the same actor as Mr. Krabs), Asajj Ventress, Kit Fisto, Cad Bane, and other miscellaneous idiots. There are so many amazing alien designs & fully armored people to adore and be horny over…

I’m currently writing a Star Wars fic that has been EATING MY BRAIN since 2022 and I’ve only now gotten my act together to actually write it. The main character oc is very self-inserty, as the all are. I put pieces of myself into all my main “I made this as an adult” ocs, and they help me learn things about myself (in a crazy psychoanalytical way), and cope with trauma, and vent, and feel LOVED! And it’s crazy. This fic is MY EVERYTHING and I’m so excited to be writing and sharing it finally after I thought I never would 🥰 It’s seriously just been like an alternate life I’ve lived inside my brain up until now 🚶🏻‍♀️

It’s late and I can’t think of anything more I can infodump about rn but if you want to ask specific questions or want me to talk about specific things I will! THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME ❤️❤️😭

#ily anon #goldfinch goes insane on main #anon ask