#the real question is how tall is marius exactly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sockablock · 4 years

Text

(TW for panic attacks and discussions about trauma)

— — —

The thing is, Beau's friends are shit fighters.

To be clear—she's not saying that they're bad at fighting, gods know Veth's a force of nature with her crossbow and all of the spell-slingers can kill with a word—it's just that when it comes to fighting, actual fighting, that down-and-dirty fist-on-flesh shit, her friends suck. Most of 'em just run, or they’d sweet-talk a surrender, or go back to slinging spells.

Beau would never admit she misses the Soul, but at least those people knew how to block. At least Dairon would make her work for it, wouldn't tell her to please, gods, Beau, stop punching me, I give!

Fjord's better these days, but not good enough.

Which is why, on their third morning back in Nicodranas, when Beau opens the door to see Yasha looking restless, she knows exactly what's up.

"Should I get my staff?"

Yasha shrugs. She usually does.

"I'll grab it. Down in five."

Beau considers grabbing some toast too, but she remembers how antsy Yasha seemed and figures she should try to avoid puking in Marion’s yard.

Yasha is stretching when she gets there. The gate swings behind her with a gentle clunk, and she kicks her shoes off, curls her toes in the grass. The sun is barely broken above rooftops and towers, and the first chime of church bells ring out overhead.

Beau yawns a little, but it’s just for flavor. Mind games. She’s not actually sleepy.

“We do not have to—”

She quickly waves her hand. “It’ll wake me up. You know, get the blood pumping.”

Yasha smiles a little at that. It’s always such a small one, but it’s getting to be familiar.

“I got up early. I couldn’t sleep. Er...sorry.”

Beau doubles her effort to be dismissive. “Don’t apologize to me, Yasha. C’mon. You think I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to?”

This seems to be a winning argument. Yasha nods, like she can’t imagine Beau doing anything she doesn’t want.

Maybe it’s the crisp ocean breeze, maybe it’s the way they circle each other in the yard. Maybe it’s the fresh brush of gauze on her fists.

Beau wants to win.

She dives in, pulls low, uses her quick movement to catch Yasha off-guard and get in as closely as she can. Yasha’s tall, broad, strong as an ox, and even holding back, she could wind Beau with a punch. She presses even closer, limiting Yasha’s motions, sweeps out a leg and cuts up when Yasha moves. The two of them duck and weave and push, neither allowing the other an inch, fists flying, blows being blocked and sweat beginning to pour down their backs. Beau lands a hit that leaves Yasha grunting, then stumbles when a wild haymaker knocks her back. It’s clear that Yasha was never taught any form, just scraped it all together by surviving on the moors and her chaotic movement, high endurance, and reckless confidence just make her deadlier.

Beau tries to close in again, but a lucky kick forces her a pace too far. Her knuckles are bruising in that numb, seething way, and so she darts to the side, grabs her staff, vaults up and then arcs her foot to Yasha’s face—

The dance starts again, this time hardwood hitting forearms and on anyone else, Beau might even feel guilty about it. But Yasha barely seems to register the thwack, her teeth bared in a sideways grin, her eyes hard and excited and alive. Beau’s probably wearing the same expression. She hears herself laughing, and knows that she is. Up-swing, down-swing, slide left, throw a punch, block one, dart back, duck and then—

Yasha’s fist catches her right in the gut, sends Beau lurching flat into the dirt. She chokes her own breath, coughs up dust, barely gets an elbow up with Yasha leaning over her, blotting out the sun, raising Beau’s staff for a finishing strike—

Halts.

It’s like watching a tower fall. Yasha staggers back. She drops the staff. She lifts her hands and stares at her palms and Beau hears a mangled breath. Her knees give. She collapses on herself.

Beau scrambles up, aching limbs forgotten.

“Yasha?” she says. “Yasha? Are you—is—what’s wrong?”

Yasha sucks in more air, but that just seems to make things worse. Her shoulders tremble and her lungs sound ragged.

“Aw, shit,” says Beau, “I mean—fuck—uh—”

She half-runs, half-crawls, ‘til she’s at Yasha’s side. She wants to put her hand on Yasha’s arm, thinks better of it, panics a little more. She wishes she were Jester. She wishes she were Cad. They’d know what to do, they’d be better at this than her, anyone, hell, Marius would be better at this than her—

But it’s her, and everyone’s still in the house, so she shakes her head and stamps the fear down.

“Yasha, I...aw, fuck, I’m—I’m here, it’s okay, nothing’s wrong—” clearly something is wrong, idiot, “—I mean, um, you’re safe here, okay? It’ll be alright. I’m here, and I’ll stay if that’s what you want, okay? I won’t go anywhere, if you don’t want. Uh...can you shake your head if you want me to go? Is that...possible, can you—”

A frantic shake.

“Oh good, okay, thank fuck, then I’m here. I’m right here, Yash. I’m not going anywhere.” She tries to pitch her voice calm, takes deep, long breaths, and continues to murmur as reassuringly as she can until after...seconds? Minutes? Yasha’s trembling slows.

There’s a pause. Yasha inhales and lets it go. It’s shaky, but apparently good enough because finally, eventually, she turns and looks back at Beau.

“I’m...okay. I am okay.”

Beau sinks back into the grass. Then she lies down. “Oh, cool. I’m, uh, glad.”

“I’m so—”

She holds up a hand. “Nope. C’mon.” She pats the ground beside her.

“Er...what?”

She pats it again, emphatic. “Lie down. C’mon. I think we’ve earned a break.”

She stares up at the sky while Yasha shifts around, and eventually there’s a gentle thud as she lies down. Seagulls cry in the distance and clouds drift slowly past their heads.

Beau swears, but mentally. A private thing.

“So, uh...do we...want to talk about it, or...?”

Yasha is quiet for a moment. That’s not surprising. Then:

“It...reminded me of when I killed you.”

“What? Oh—”

“Almost killed you,” Yasha amended. “Both times.”

“Right,” says Beau. “That’s...right.”

She thinks about saying—almost. You only almost killed me, so really it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. And you kill people all the time anyway, right?

She blinks. “Wait, you kill people all the time, Yasha. Is it always that bad? Shit, does it always...does it always make you feel like this? Only...I don’t think I’ve ever seen you...break like that...”

She regrets the words immediately. Stupid, Beau, that’s a stupid thing to say.

But Yasha answers the question earnestly. “It’s usually different,” she says to the sky. “It usually...doesn’t matter. Er...no, not that it doesn’t matter, it just...”

“Doesn’t matter,” Beau sighs. “No, I...sort of get it. Man, that might be fucked up. Of us.”

Yasha shrugs, which rustles the grass. “It’s how it has always been for me. That is just what life is like.”

“I’m sure Jester would disagree.”

“Jester is...nice. I am not. I...have hurt a lot of people. And not just people who were fighting me, or trying to hurt me, but people who were innocent, who did not need not to be hurt, people who care about me, and, and people who I...”

She trails off. Beau can’t see her face, but right now, selfishly, she is glad for it. She feels anger bubbling up in her stomach.

“You were being controlled,” she says fiercely. “You didn’t do it. Someone made you do it.”

“But...part of that...part of it was still me. Since...since you all freed me, I...I remember parts of it. I remember doing it. Those were my hands.”

Beau can practically hear Yasha’s fist tighten. She definitely feels it when Yasha hits the ground.

“If I was better, or if I was stronger, if I had broken free faster, none of that would have happened, I could have stopped him sooner—”

This time, Beau doesn’t hold back. They’re lying down, so it’s incredibly awkward, but the first thing she can think of is to grab Yasha’s hand.

She sits up, and waves it over Yasha’s face.

“But you didn’t,” she says, then falters, then wants to smack herself. “Fuck, no, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is...” Then she stops. “No, you know what? Fuck it. You didn’t break out faster. And that’s because it was a miracle you managed it in the first place. Yasha, you were being controlled by a devil. You were being controlled by the Chained Oblivion. The fact that you were even a person the first time we met—and you were a person, you were funny, you charged me money to, to, well, you charged me five gold, remember that?”

Yasha blinks. Her wrist is slack in Beau’s grip.

“I...do, yes, I remember that.”

“Right. The fact that you were a person then meant that they couldn’t keep their claws in you. Because you were strong. You were better. Better than everything they tried to make you. You kept breaking free.”

Yasha does not try to squirm away, only stays there.

“But...I needed help every time that I did escape. I never managed it on my own. First it was...it was Kord, and then you all—”

“Of course!” Beau throws her other arm into the air. “Who the fuck could do it on their own?! All that means is that when you had a chance, the second you had a chance, you were outta there. In your heart, you knew what was right. You knew it, and held onto it, even when I’m sure it would’ve been so easy to stay there, to stay in that hell and just go through the motions and lose yourself in...in grief, and loss and...and all that. But you didn’t. And now look at you.”

She cracks a goofy smile, all desperation to make what she’s trying to say heard.

“You’re an angel, Yasha. Remember?”

Yasha slowly sits up too. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, black turning white, with little blades of grass.

Beau is made painfully aware of the fact that she’s still holding Yasha’s hand. She lets go. Then she swears again, and hopes that Yasha doesn’t think it’s because of anything s—

“I am, aren’t I?”

Her gaze shoots up and Yasha's wearing a goofy smile too. Small, a bit nervous, but real and warm.

It’s getting to be familiar.

Beau snorts. She snorts so loud that it might dislodge something in her chest. She hits Yasha gently on the arm.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t, uh, don’t let it go to your head.”

She can see Yasha nodding in the corner of her eye.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Then, after a brief battle over whether or not to bring it up, “I don’t...I don’t...for the record, I’m not mad about you stabbing me. Or whatever.”

Yasha looks stricken, and Beau regrets it instantly. “Shit, should I not have reminded you of—”

“No,” Yasha sighs, and her face softens. “No. I am...glad that you are not mad at me.”

“Should we, like...go to a cleric about this?” Beau asks. “Is this going to be something that happens in, like...fights? Because if it does, it might put you in danger. Also, it’s...it probably sucks for you. Right?”

Fjord would probably have something to say about the way she’s handling this conversation. He’s not here now.

“I...don’t know,” Yasha says eventually. “It hasn’t happened before. It was only...just now. And...just with you. It...hurting you reminded me of being controlled. It...brought me back to all the times that my mind was not my own.”

“I’m sorry,” Beau says, because she’s not sure what else to say.

“No,” says Yasha. Beau looks up, surprised by the weight in her words. “If I am not allowed to be sorry to you, you cannot be sorry to me.”

“Ah,” says Beau. She feels a grin pulling. “In that case...I’m not sorry.”

Yasha nods, like this is sacred, and Beau can’t help but snort again.

“C’mon,” she says. “We can...work this shit out later. Or start to. With a cleric if you want, or not, if you don’t. But I just got my ass kicked, and I’m thirsty. What do you say to some drinks? I think there’s juice. Do you like juice?”

She stands up, and sticks out a hand.

Yasha takes it.

“Okay. I like juice.”

— — —

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

1K notes · View notes

onthesandsofdreams · 4 years

Text

The Princess & The King’s Shade

Fandom: Wonder Woman Pairing: Steve x Diana Rating: T Summary: “No, that’s…” she stumbles over her words. Then, she regains her wits and stands tall and proud. “Who really are you, and try not to lie to me.” Words: 1277 Notes: Chapter 2. In which Steve Trevor enters the story full force. As usual, for dearest @steventrevor.

Read @ AO3 | Previous Chapter |

Diana’s eyes grew wide.

“No, that’s…” she stumbles over her words. Then, she regains her wits and stands tall and proud. “Who really are you, and try not to lie to me.” Her voice is firm, brokers no arguments and is grateful for all those lessons her mother taught her.

The shade of the man seems more amused than anything else. He simply arches a well groomed eyebrow, walks closer to her, lips curled upwards. “I am who I say I am. I am King Steven, of the House of Trevor. King of Germania.” He then tilts his head. “The real question is, who are you?”

She looks at the shade, she knows that shades and ghost can lie. They do lie, some with ill intent, but there is something that has raised goosebumps on her arms. “My name is Diana, an ambassador from Queen Hippolyta from Themyscira.” Until she knows if the shade is lying, she will not say who she really is.

The man’s eyebrows go up. “Really? Hippolyta is sending an ambassador, that’s a surprise. Bad timing though, sorry to say.”

The tone of his voice makes her grind her teeth. “Queen Hippolyta is wise.” She says, but her voice is sharp, a warning for the shade.

The man shrugs. “Perhaps so, but the truth is, she could not have picked a worst time to try and forge an alliance – if that’s what she wants. If not, she still picked the wrong time. The House of Trevor is no more.” His voice trails and she can hear the grief in his voice. He turns his back to her and she feels pity for the man.

“And why is that?” She needs to thread carefully, she doesn’t want the shade to leave without answering some questions.

“Did you know, that these rooms were my sister’s when she was alive? Sickness took her away, my mother never really recovered from the blow. She would walk around with a cloud of sadness upon her. My father tried his best, but even he passed away soon after and my mother… well, she gave up. I was left all alone.”

She is torn between feeling terrible for the man, and being wary, she needs to be careful now, because if the man is telling the true, then it must have been a deep blow to loose his entire family so soon after each other. But if he is lying, she risks falling for the tramp of believing that story and be dragged into her own grave.

“But it wasn’t all that bad. I made friends, found a family entirely on my own. Darling Etta, best wizard that I could possibly find, brave and bold with softness to her that goes unmatched. Charlie, Napi and Sammy… my personal guards and closest friends and confidants. I could not ask for better people around me.”

“What happened to them?” She asks, hoping the man will know.

“Etta? She’s been controlled. That’s the woman who helped you early, she doesn’t remember her magic, nor can she see me.” The man turned and she could see that there were tear tracks on his translucent face. “The others? I don’t know. I wish I did and… well, I can’t leave this area of the palace at all. Besides, who could see me? You’re the first in months.”

“Surely, someone could see you?”

“No one has come over this area in a while.” The man shakes his head. “No one but them.” And the way he says them sends chills down her spine. “So why exactly should they help me, after all, they are the responsible for whatever this is.”

Her mind races, she needs to keep the man talking, the more he talks, the more information she can gather. “I must ask, is there a way to prove who you say you are? I want to believe you, but surely you can understand my position.”

The man nods, a look of resignation on his face. “I understand Lady Diana. And I hope you are prepared to thread carefully, these men are not people to trifle with. I made the mistake of underestimating them and now I’m here. And as to proof of who am I… well, I doubt that these bastards kept my family’s portraits around. But they don’t know about the one in this room. Look behind the fabric behind your headboard, the one that starts the canopy above the bed, there is a portrait of mine, I was younger then, but my face did not change much.”

She rushes towards the bed, and frantically pulls the at fine silk fabric. And there she finds it. A portrait of a teen boy who looks so much like the man she’s speaking to. She shivers, he’s not lying. She’s speaking to the actual King of Germania. “It’s you! You are not lying.” She sits, her head feels heavy and her world is spinning. “I don’t understand, but if I must navigate this, you need to tell me who they are.”

King Steven closes his eyes, silence falls on the room and she doesn’t push it. She lets the man take his time, it’s still early and she has no problem sleeping late if she must. She’s tired, she had been traveling to get to this place and now, she finds that she can’t sleep. This shadow or ghost has rattled her.

“The older man, is the wizard Ares.” Goosebumps raise once more on her arm. “The blond man? That’s Orm Marius. And they are sitting on my fucking throne.”

She feels her breath get caught on her throat. It couldn’t be, this shade must be lying. All the people who arrived at Themyscira said King Steven had thrown the invading army off. “How?” Her own voice is raspy to her ears.

“How? That I don’t know, someone must have betrayed us.” The man shrugs again. “Orm’s army had been defeated, at least that’s what we thought. Etta’s shields still stood firm. I was on my office two days after, checking a new law and I felt a hit to the back of my head and then, blackness.”

“Blackness.” She repeats.

“Next time I opened my eyes, I was this,” King Steven motions at himself. “And Orm was sitting quite comfortably on my own chamber. I tried to follow him, but every time I tried stepping outside of this wing, I would be pulled back. Etta is under an enchantment, that I can tell you, Ares spoke of it to Orm. And that’s all I know.”

“Assuming I believe you.” She starts and gather her courage, she knows there could be hell to pay if she were to anger this shade. He vibrates with power, even now. “How come you didn’t go to the great beyond and followed Hades’ call?”

“There was no call.”

No call? That simply couldn’t be. Hades had never been remiss as to abandon a soul, many rejected the call, but all the ghosts and shades she spoke to, they all had heard it. “How come a ghost did not hear the call, Hades would never leave a soul behind?” She wonders out loud.

Steven gives her a look. “I don't appreciate being called a liar, my Lady,” There is a harshness to his voice, but then Steven sighs, resignation written all over his face, “There was no call and… Lady Diana, I do not know what I am, how can you?”

And with that, he fades away and she all but falls into her bed in shock. And once more, she feels like someone pulled a rug from under her feet.

#wondertrev #Diana x Steve #Diana Prince #steve trevor #wonder woman fic #au: fantasy #au: supernatural

2 notes · View notes

ifeveristoday · 5 years

Text

Are we in Bizarro Land?

@jenny-calendar has already keyboard flailed about the progress of Jenny and Giles in the Boom!verse (and I definitely have thoughts of my own) but this issue is so good about picking up from the quiet introspectiveness of issue 7, as if Jordie thought, ‘Okay, I’ve let Willow breathe and Xander come to terms with his new existence...now shit’s really getting real’ and we’re back into action.

A feature of the Boom!verse has been the feeling that each issue has a mini cliffhanger - not necessarily, OMG what happens next?!? in feeling all the time, but ‘why did you end it THERE?’

It happened for me in the Chosen one-shot - I would have liked to have spent more time with the individual slayers (possibly giving each one her own issue instead of sharing?) but the glimpse I got of each life was intriguing.

With issue 8 of the Boom!verse, we’ve definitely hit upon OMG what happens next territory.

And one of the elephants in the fandom - the Buffy/Angel relationship gets introduced in this issue.

There’s a lot of other plot points about issue 8 that I’m going to address in separate posts, but I want to comment on the B/A dynamic as it is in the Boom! verse. OG canon will be referenced but for the most part I want to focus on what Jordie and Bryan have decided to do with them and how that impacts their relationship in 2019.

Did I go down a google deep dive to ascertain if Bats do in fact have tails? Yes. Yes I did. And they do, but it’s not quite to the extent that Handmade Costume Buffy takes it to -- her costume looks more like a cartoon version of a Bat, with the little forked end. There are 1000 species of bats, however, with the majority of them having some sort of tail, both obvious and not so obvious. And there’s a bumblebee bat that does not have a tail. I highly recommend that you google it because it’s goddamn adorable.

Despite his many years existing, I don’t think Angel really was cataloging all 1,000 species of bats and just went with the common perception that bats are tail-less. The bat motif has been repeated over with them in canon, however - there’s Camazotz, Buffy’s pegasus bat (who’s returning for HELLMOUTH), the endless Batman comparisons Angel has (TV and Bryan comparing him to Bruce Wayne) and of course vampire bats (Dracula and his party trick). Buffy dressing up as a bat is pretty on the nose for this ‘verse.

And I like that it’s obviously homemade - Joyce (or Eric! Doctor after all) probably helped her stitch on ears and a tail to a black hoodie and black shorts, and she just needed fishnets to complete the look - cozy with a slight detour into Women’s Halloween Costumes Must Be Sexy All The Time Now, Especially if It Is Not Sexy Before. Buffy wasn’t going to spend Tuna Palace money on wearing a costume for an event that she was forced to unofficially chaperone, hence the surliness/over it attitude with Halloween. We still have no idea what fifteen-year-old Slayer Buffy was like and if her Halloween in Los Angeles was eventful or it’s a Los Angeles vs “small town” approach to Halloween.

Or if it’s Buffy just being annoyed that once again, she really can’t participate in an ordinary teenage ritual, she has to watch over it to make sure everyone’s safe. The visual of Buffy on the fringes of the party, observing, not participating is something that really resonated with me, as a fan of the TV canon and just being a withdrawn person in RL.

Buffy’s had a setback - her friends have gotten hurt helping her slaying, her crush has fizzled out before it could properly begin (and Robin dancing with a look-alike didn’t help) and as Giles likes to remind her, evil is always in the background. Her doing normal stuff - group date with her friends is directly before Xander gets turned by Spike and Drusilla, and then she witnesses Willow giving up a part of her soul for Xander, and being defensive when Willow tells her she hardly knows herself - Buffy is both a part of their group but separate. The argument the two get into in front of the demon - that Buffy tells Willow she’s pretending, and Willow tossing back that Buffy is a master of pretending and lying (Slayer, secret identity after all) and the demon sneering at Buffy’s overinflated sense of worth - just because she’s the Slayer doesn’t automatically give her soul more weight. Xander and Willow’s bond excludes her because they’ve known each other forever and she is the new girl. The outsider.

We’ve been given more insight to Willow and Xander, but just peeks at Buffy’s mindset - and with all that’s happened, I don’t blame her for being resentful or less sunshine-y than her season 1 TV counterpart. But Boom! Buffy as always, is her own person.

It’s this person Angel is trying to figure out. Over in his world, Buffy/The Slayer is nothing but a flashing danger sign - a shadowy figure that he first mistakes for Mara/Marius - a source of regret/love from his Angelus past. Mara was chosen by Angelus because she was a renowned fighter, and he makes/renames her in his image - possibly referencing the Roman god of War as well. But all the omniscient demons in his life insist that this girl is a danger to him and that love will bring him nothing but pain and she is the instrument of that pain.

Moth, meet flame.

Boom! Angel is not burdened with destiny in the shape of a girl, he doesn’t know anything about the Slayer or what role she’s going to play in his life, only that she’s going to impact it - most likely in a negative way.

So what does he do?

Treat it like a war campaign - do the recon, know your opponent’s weaknesses.

Which brings the comedy, because the Slayer he’s been warned off so many times isn’t the feared creature of vampire myth and legend, but a resentful tired girl in a bat costume who does not appreciate the tall dark ‘looks like a serial killer’ man in a devil mask sitting right next to her. She wants to be left alone.

In any other typical story, there would be that element of fear with a stranger, but because Buffy’s the Slayer, she knows she can defend herself and put the hurt on this guy.

Meanwhile, it’s Angel’s turn to observe. And 2019 Angel’s social skills have ...not improved. There is a slight symmetry to their meeting - Buffy watching a world she’s not quite a part of, and Angel watching her and not sure how she fits into his world, both outsiders looking at something they’re not sure they want but still are fascinated by.

Angel’s initial attempt to get closer to Buffy (literal sitting down next to her, then being a troll and moving up one stair) is the personal approach - he notices that she’s bothered by Robin dancing with another girl and then quickly enters Uncomfortable Job Interview Questions territory - 'tell me about yourself - where would you be if you weren’t here? What if you had more time for you?’

These are not mortal enemy questions, obviously. Angel is trying to decipher Buffy as a person and subtly mirroring her body language.

In a callback to Willow’s accusation that Buffy doesn’t really know herself - she admits she doesn’t know what she would be doing if she didn’t have to be there - she said to Xander that she’d rather be home studying...but come on. That’s not what she really wants to be doing.

To defuse the suddenly personal conversation, Angel makes the observation that the reason no one can tell she’s a bat is that she has a tail - and Buffy is so wrapped up in her situation that she doesn’t clue in on the fact that Angel has used Xander’s words almost exactly. She repeats that she hates Halloween while flaming with embarrassment that she’s appeared both vulnerable and not bright in front of a stranger.

This whole exchange - about who Buffy is and what she presents to the world - no one knows if she’s a cat or a dog - I’m a bat fits neatly with her identity crisis as a Slayer and as a teenager still figuring stuff out.

Similarities to TV canon - Angel knows more about Buffy than she knows about him, and he’s intrigued by her, and she’s...annoyed by him.

The update to their histories is what makes me intrigued about the potential of their romance/relationship - it’s definitely happening with all the hints that have been dropped, anvil-like from the sky - but Buffy is not Angel’s route to redemption or desire to be useful for the fight for Good. He was already going down that path/doing that before he meets her. Angel is not a romantic figure for Buffy, she doesn’t know what he looks like, only that he’s really chatty (!) and vaguely has motivational speaker vibes. He’s not a canvas for her to project ideal fantasies on, just yet.

They’re both damaged, unsociable in their own ways people - but a connection has been made. Where Jordie and Bryan (and Jordan Lambert for HELLMOUTH) go with it, is the exciting part. The ending we know is inevitable, plus it’s the first year of their series, and creators rarely get OTPs together and stay together that quickly, but because Boom! has them both under their umbrella, crossovers will happen more easily and the mythology will be tighter instead of the same tiresome ‘one is more darker and adult than the other blah blah blah shut up dude creators as if that’s the only worthy characteristic of a story’ box.

So, I’m excited about the journey, and as you can see in my chat bubbles above - any Hades/Persephone parallels.

Look how gorgeous this panel is - the colors and the way Buffy is perched above it all...like a bat. Or Nosferatu.

#meta #buffy comics #boom! studios #boom! verse #the ballad of buffy and angel #not that i've thought about this at all #overthought? yes #buffy summers #angel #what's the point of an English degree if you can't wildly blow up every little pointless detail?

12 notes · View notes