#I'M BACK BITCHES

[scarred-but-still-smiling]

A Legacy Of Love

In which Odysseus finds a very odd man in his palace who looks hauntingly like the man he used to be.

Read here on AO3!

It had been many years since Odysseus had felt comfortable and at ease; from Troy, through 20 years of tragedies to get home, and the many moons since he finally returned, he was still getting used to not being in danger in his every moment.

Walking through the palace halls, just allowing himself to soak in the peaceful ambience, he suddenly heard a voice from the general direction of the central courtyard. Purely on instinct, Odysseus reached into a nearby vase and pulled out one of the many weapons he'd hidden around the palace since arriving home and crouching low and stalking, close up to the wall, towards the courtyard.

"My King! My King, there's an intruder in the courtyard!" A familiar woman's voice rang through the halls, and Odysseus heard footfalls rushing towards him.

As the woman rushed through the door next to him, he swiftly grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, covering her mouth to muffle any more screams that could give away their positions. "Amara," he whispered, "don't worry, it's just me." he released her once he was sure she had registered who he was. "Are you okay?"

The maid breathed heavily, hugging herself tightly, "Yes, my King, I'm okay, I don't think he saw me."

"That's good to hear," He smiled softly at her, "I would hate to lose you." his expression grew stern again, "Okay, did you see if our uninvited guest was armed?"

Amara shook her head, "Not that I could see. He was dressed very strangely, though. Like nothing I've ever seen before."

"And did those clothes look loose enough to be able to conceal a dagger he could get to easily?"

She shook her head again, "It didn't seem like it."

Odysseus nodded, "Thank you, Amara. Telemachus should be on his way to the weapon room with Athena. I need you to inform them both that we have at least one intruder, and possibly more. Ask them to comb the palace for anyone else while I deal with the man you saw. Then I want you to find Penelope and instruct her to arm herself, just in case someone tries to ambush her. Last I saw her, she was in our room, but she did talk about wanting to repair the drapes in the grand hall, so she could be collecting them. Understood?"

Amara nodded, "Yes, my King, right away."

Odysseus watched as the maid retreated until she was out of sight, before continuing his stealthy advancement on the courtyard.

Arriving at the doorway, he carefully slung the sword through his belt and picked up the bow and quiver he'd mounted above the arch, carefully positioning himself behind one of the support pillars to keep himself out of sight.

Carefully glancing around the pillar, he saw the man Amara had reported; she hadn't been wrong when she said he was dressed strangely: his upper body was clothed in an odd, pale blue, enclosed fabric sleeve, with sleeves enclosing his arms down to the wrist, and his legs were equally enclosed in a stiff, dark blue, fabric. He couldn't help but be bewildered for a moment; that couldn't be comfortable. Though, he thought, refocusing, it did mean there was no chance of any hidden weapons, unless they were strapped to his flesh, and those would be very difficult to access with the enclosed nature of the stranger's unusual garb.

Drawing an arrow back, Odysseus stepped out into the doorway, his aim locked onto the intruder's neck. "Who are you?" he snarled.

The stranger spun around, his arms raised, revealing a group of 4 strange characters on the fabric over his chest, and Odysseus almost released the shot, his eyes going wide in sheer surprise as he saw the man's face:

The stranger looked like him.

Like a younger him, the Odysseus who left for Troy all those years ago, an Odysseus unburdened by pain and loss.

He looked almost identical to Telemachus...

"What trick of the gods is this?!" He roared, glaring, his eyes burning crimson, advancing on the stranger. "Why do you look like my son?!"

The man stepped back in fear, his face turning the colour of ivory. "I-I'm not a threat." he stammered, "I'm not going to hurt your family, I swear to Horkos, I mean no harm." The man's gaze didn't waver from the arrow, "As for your other question, that's a very complicated story."

Odysseus cautiously lowered his bow, slowly releasing the tension in the bowstring. An oath to Horkos was serious, calling down a generational curse if broken.

The man relaxed, colour slowly returning to his face. "Oh, thank goodness." he smiled. "I was worried you'd Antinous me for a second there."

Odysseus froze. "What did you just say?" he began to raise the bow again, "The only people who know how I killed that bastard are my family and maids, how do you know that detail?"

The stranger slowly raised his arms again, "That's part of the complicated story, my friend." He laughed nervously, "I can tell you it if you stop pointing sharp things at me."

"You will stay here until my children finish combing the palace for any others who came here with you."

"I mean, I hope none of the others wound up here," the stranger said, "just me getting home is gonna be hard enough." He paused, "wait, children? As in plural?" He tilted his head, "as in you had another kid after Telemacus?" The man tilted his head the other way and began muttering to himself, "no, that wouldn't make sense; he doesn't look much older than his 50s, which means that, even if they had the kid 9 months to the day after he returned, that child wouldn't be nearly old enough to assist in recon, hell it would be barely old enough to hold a sword." He straightened up, beaming, "did you adopt?"

Odysseus was so caught off guard, seeing such joy on a face so like his son's, and his own, he couldn't help but smile himself. "You could say that," he unstrung his arrow and returned it to the quiver, slinging his bow over his shoulder. "It was Penelope's idea."

As if on cue, Odysseus felt two sets of eyes watching the pair of them.

"That'll be them now," he said, "report? Does this man have any friends in the palace?"

Telemachus' voice approached from his left, "Not that we could find, father."

Then Athena's from his right, "Indeed, it appears that, whoever this unusual man is, he arrived alone. What about you? What information were you able to gather? I notice your weapons are sheathed, so I gather you have determined he is not a threat?"

Odysseus nodded. "He's odd, but he seemed about as confused as to how he's here as we are, and if he wanted to hurt us, he wouldn't be in such an open area."

He watched as Telemachus squinted at the stranger curiously, "Is... is it just me or-?" He glanced at his reflection in the head of his spear. "Does he-?"

Athena nodded, "He does resemble you, yes. It's quite strange."

Looking between the two men, Odysseus was fully struck with how uncanny the resemblance was; if he were to remove the stranger's facial hair, they would likely be perfect mirrors of each other.

The stranger clapped his hands over his mouth, "Holy crap," he gasped, "you adopted Athena?"

Telemachus drew himself to his full height, "That's Goddess of Wisdom, Princess Athena of Ithaca, to you."

Athena bowed her head and laughed softly, "That's quite alright, Telemachus. I don't mind."

Telemachus pouted, "But you deserve your full title!"

Odysseus sighed happily as the two laughed together, looking over at the stranger, "Like I said, it was Penelope's idea." He laid a hand on his son's shoulder, "go tell your mother that the coast is clear, she and Amara should be in our bedroom, worried out of their minds. We'll be in the family room when you're done; the stranger has to explain who he is and what he's doing here, and, apparently, it's going to be a long story."

Exiting the courtyard the way he came, Odysseus replaced the bow, arrows, and sword to their hiding places along the way. The stranger raised an eyebrow as the sword was placed back in the vase, "So," he mused, "you've not been home all that long, have you?" Odysseus mimicked his curious expression, "I've noticed a few barely visible pommels between the courtyard and here," he said in response, "you might wanna hide them a little bit better; if I can see them, then there's a good chance attackers could too."

Arriving in the family room, Odysseus saw Penelope and Telemachus already waiting for them, a platter of olives, cheeses, dried meats and fruit sitting on the table in the centre of the room.

As they approached, Penelope stood and smiled, bowing slightly at their guest, "Welcome, strange visitor," she said warmly, "it's nice to meet you, I am Penelope, and you are?"

The stranger's eyes went wide, and Odysseus saw the tips of his ears turn slightly flushed. The man bowed back, "Greetings, Queen Penelope of Ithaca, my name is Jorge Rivera-Herrans, it's an honour."

"That's a very strange name," Athena mused, as the group sat around the table, "from where do you hail, Jorge Rivera-Herrans?"

Jorge paused, as if trying to figure something out, "In terms of the where, somewhere far to the north and west of here."

"What do you mean by 'in terms of the where'?" Penelope inquired, "are you trying to imply that the when is also a factor?"

Jorge laughed, "Sharp as ever, I see," he smiled at Odysseus, "I can see why you fell in love with her all those years ago."

Odysseus blushed; the man wasn't wrong.

"She reminds me of my Talya," Jorge smiled softly, "beautiful, sharp as a new blade and powerful enough to make a man quake in his boots."

"So she was right?" Odysseus asked, "have you somehow come from a different time?"

Jorge nodded, "That's part of why it's such a complicated story."

"Father is remembered?" Telemachus asked excitedly, "for how long? How far in the future are you from? How did you get here?"

Jorge sighed deeply, glancing from Telemachus to Odysseus and back again, "A little over 2800 years. And I predict you'll be remembered for thousands more. Greek myth is full of stories that have been told and retold for centuries." He looked back at Odysseus, and the king felt the weight of eternity on his shoulders. "That's why I know how you killed Antinous, for one thing. And as for why we look so alike," the man from the future smiled kindly, "I'm one of those storytellers."

Odysseus found himself leaning forward in his seat, fascinated by the odd man's story. "2800 years? That's such a titanic span of time, how could you have ended up here?"

Athena tilted her head owlishly, it was a motion that always made Odysseus smile, even though it looked rather uncanny. "Unlike my grandfather, I am no authority on time," she ventured, "but I do know that it can be rather malliable under the right conditions."

"Grandfather?" Jorge said, "That'd be Chronos, correct?"

Athena nodded, "Indeed. If our stories are as retold as you say they are, I'm sure you know his tale."

"How do you mean malliable, Athena?" Penelope asked, "you mean it can be shaped? Altered?"

Athena nodded again, "That's correct; there are spots in the world, places where something monumentous enough happened, where time can be," she gestured for a term, "somewhat thin."

Jorge grimaced, "Note to self, stay away from Troy. Got it."

"While I'm not sure why Jorge arrived at the precise location and time he did, it's likely the thinning caused by Odysseus' return and slaughter of the suitors is what caused it." She looked to their guest, "Would I be correct in assuming that you were, perhaps, walking through whatever stands in this spot in the future?"

Odysseus opened his mouth to ask Jorge a question as the other man nodded in response to Athena's question, but the many he needed the answers to surged forward to choke him.

"Are you okay Odysseus?" Penelope asked, eyes filled with worry.

"How..." he hesitated, afraid of the answer he would get, "how am I remembered?"

The smile Jorge gave him was filled with warmth and care and kindness. "You're remembered as a man who loved his wife and son so utterly, so completely, that he would give anything, sacrifice anything, suffer any pain, to get home to them." the man slid from his seat and knelt in front of him, a gentle hand on his arm, "your legacy, King Odysseus of Ithaca, is a legacy of love." Jorge looked around at them all, "All of you, though your adoption of Athena isn't a tale that carries forward, are remembered as one of the most solid family units in history."

Odysseus felt something catch in his chest as Jorge spoke; to know that history remebered him, not as a monster, but a man, that they wouldn't condemn him for the atrocites he had to commit in order to get home.

"If you don't mind my asking, Jorge," Telemachus piped up, "you said you were one of the storytellers who tell our tale in the future. How did you tell it?"

Returning to his seat, Jorge looked over at Telemachus. "In song." He smiled, "I had the idea to make a musical retelling of your father's story, so i asked around and found many singers who would, over the course of writing and recording, become my dear friends." Jorge looked to Odysseus, "the reason we look so alike, which is also the reason I look like Telemachus since he looks more like you than you think he does, is because I was the singer to portray you." He bowed his head, "And, might I say, it was an honour to do so."

Athena squinted at Jorge, "There's something you're not saying."

Odysseus watched, puzzled and a little astonished, as Jorge glared at Athena, "That part isn't important," he snapped, "all stories change as eons pass, that's a given."

Athena bristled, feathers briefly appearing on her shoulders and neck.

"Talking about the specific details I changed would only cause pain. In Odysseus if I was accurate, and in Penelope and Telemachus if I was not. Do you want that, goddess of wisdom?"

Athena averted her gaze, and Odysseus was lost for words. "No. I do not, they have suffered enough."

Jorge sighed in relief, "Thank you."

For the briefest of moments, hearing the tone that Jorge used in his thanks, Odysseus remembered the argument he had had with Eurylocus before he'd climbed to petition Aeolus, and he shivered.

"Jorge," he said, trying to diffuse the tension in the room, "you're from hundreds and hundreds of years in the future, so I want to know; Athena told me she wished for a world that was kinder, has it come to pass yet?"

A sad smile spread across their visitor's face, "Almost," he said softly, "there will always be cruelty, there will always be ruthlessness and monsters, that's just how things shake out, but so much progress has been made." The man shook his head, a hint of song slipping into his words, tears beginning to sparkle in his eyes, "if that world exists, it's still far away from here, it's one I'll probably miss, it's far beyond my years. But she will live forever, I have faith she'll make it be. It's Humanity's endevour, you have my word it's one they'll see."

Odysseus looked over at Athena, eyes wide, hearing the familiar words, only to be met with an identical expression from the goddess.

A quiet chuckle brought their attention back to Jorge, and they saw him wiping the tears from his eyes with a smile. "From the looks on your faces, it looks like I was right. That's good to know." He sighed, "now then, I'm grateful you didn't shoot me, King Odysseus, and I'm grateful for your hospitality Queen Penelope, but I have friends to get back to who were probably very alarmed when I walked through a crumbled archway and seemingly vanished in front of them. So then," stood from his seat and bowed to Athena, "Goddess of Wisdom, Princess Athena of Ithaca, if you could find it in your heart to help me return to my loved ones, I would greatly appreciate it."

Athena smiled kindly, and Odysseus couldn't help but remember the friendship that they'd built together as he grew from a child into a man. His thoughts drifted to the relationship between Athena and his son, and he looked around the room in search of him, but noticed that Telemachus had left.

"Very well, Jorge Rivera-Herrans. I believe speaking with my grandfather would give us a better understanding of how exactly you got here, and thus how to get you home. Unfortunately that means travelling to-"

Jorge nodded, "If I remember my mythology correctly, he's either prisoner in Tartarus or a king in Elysium, right?"

"I'm impressed." Athena replied, "would you like to join me? There's a chance he'll be able to send you home directly."

"I mean, as long as you're aware that I'm the furthest thing from a warrior and would require your protection."

"That is acceptable."

"Wait! Hold on!" Telemachus rushed into the room with a collection of weapons clutched in his arms; a sword, a dagger, a spear, a bow and a quiver of arrows. "You can't go on a journey without a way to defend yourself, it's dangerous out there, right father?"

Odysseus laughed, "I'm so proud to call you my son." He looked to Jorge, "he's right though. Though I think you know that very well, don't you, Storyteller?"

"Yeah," Jorge chuckled, "and, unlike you, danger and I aren't on the best speaking terms." He turned to Telemachus, "I think, if I'm being protected by Athena, meaning Quick Thought is in play, a bow and arrow would probably combo the best. Though I would also appreciate a dagger, just in case."

Odysseus understood about half of those words, but, as he watched Jorge recieve his weapons, he was brought back to the day he left for Troy, so full of hope and determination. "Be careful out there, Jorge Rivera-Herrans, I would hate for the future to lose a man such as you. And... thank you. You've given me some much-needed hope this day."

"Of course. It's only fair, really; your story has given hope to so many others in my time. Even just from my own telling of it."

Odysseus watched as the strange man turned away and walked with Athena out of the palace, Penelope following behind and calling the maids to escort them to the kitchens to pick up provisions for the journey.

"Oh!" Telemachus shouted after them, "what is father's story called in your time?"

Jorge laughed, not even turning around as he answered.

"The Odyssey!"

[blackmissfrizzle]

I Told Y'all I Was Coming Back

Terry has now spent centuries wandering this Earth alone. When he plants roots in his new home, he makes an annoying, unexpected friend and possibly something more. A young woman accidentally discovers his secret and now he has a human woman as a friend. At least she's a millennial and not Gen X or Z.

Come along for a ride with Terry and YN! This is not a linear series. I will be writing random one-shots about the reader and Terry. So, you can send suggestions to the ask inbox (respectfully, doesn't mean I'll write them). I'm so excited for this journey. Shoutout to this man for getting my creative juices flowing.

I hope this causes a little bit of chaos before bed lol. Good night, beautiful people!

One Shots:

Dracarys

[wr0wn]

I have a job for you :)

[honestlydarkprincess]

'cause baby you make it all fade away

buck x eddie || rated: t || wc: 3k

for @beyourownanchor6 💕

Buck's having a no good very bad day and Eddie makes it better.

No hoodies were harmed in the making of this fic.

read on ao3

[goldenashes-if]

hi hii!! how would the ROs feel abt the MC referring to them as part of their hoard? like not in a hyperpossesive typa way but like them also using "treasure" or "gem" as pet names <33

Sekh': I think they'd be the RO to feel most touched by this. They'd be flustered when MC says it out loud, but there is a careful longing in the way they behave afterwards. Leaning a bit towards MC, getting closer than they normally allow themselves to get to MC in public.

Because Sekh' only ever had their disgraced family name and nothing else. They don't belong anywhere, no one wants them, and they belong to no one because no one has wanted them as well - since now.

Cherena: Cherena preens and blushes and melts, almost in tears, if it's a day where their emotions are running a bit all over the place. Finally, they have something genuine. They aren't being used, like they are with their 'friends', they aren't being displayed like their grandparents do with them.

Cherena loves hearing MC call them part of the hoard, and they frequently daydream about being inside MC's hoard or nest with them, cocooned and happy.

Zaphia: Zaphia blinks, and they can hardly believe it at first. This is all they ever wanted. To be treasured so, and to be the most prized possession of their partner.

The though alone makes their body shudder and mind shake with soft delight. They look proud and properly content every time MC calls Zaphia that, especially in public.

[anekogia]

Diavolo: *Goes on a vacation with the demon bros and MC/Yuki and leaves Barbatos behind at the castle.*

Mammon: Man, I feel bad that we didn't bring Barbatos along.

Asmodeus: Right?! That poor guy must be mopping around the castle like some sad puppy waiting for its owner to return.

MC/Yuki: I don't know about that, but yeah... I wonder how he's doing?

*Meanwhile*

Barbatos:

*Solomon is the one who walks in on him.

[theromanticscrooge]

The Shipping Corner: Voxman, A Balm for Capitalist-Induced Angst

Note: I'm sorry this took as long as it did. I've been in a pretty bad slump recently and am just now coming out of it.

Lord Boxman is the black sheep among his peers. This is first established with Professor Venomous' initial distaste towards him and the later reactions he gets when he unexpectedly shows up at Billiam Milliam's villain yacht party. The only kinds of relationships Boxman has with other villains amount to strictly business transactions to create their robot minions. The shareholders that directly fund Boxmore are especially skeptic of Boxman's destroy the Plaza side venture and see this as a misguided, Snidely Whiplash-esque escapade. He's just a Saturday morning cartoon villain and they're the respectable big leagues. When Boxman funnels so much time, effort, energy, and resources towards the Plaza attacks, it takes precious time away from robot production; the one thing he does they consider valuable or worthwhile. They threaten to cut off their support if Boxman's production doesn't increase and then gladly replace him with Darrell when the opportunity arises. Darrell fits the exact mold they need for a CEO: he focuses exclusively on production.

There's no respect. There's no interest in or concern for Lord Boxman as an individual. The dislike is mutual. Of course Boxman doesn't get along with other villains. Most of the known names and faces on screen hold the purse strings and by extension, the fate of Boxman's entire operation. He feels like he has to put on his best face and performance to keep his business afloat. Without Boxmore, he seemingly has nothing and loses everything material. After Boxman was fired by the shareholders, he becomes absolutely depressed and floats around for awhile until Venomous finds him in his trash can. As much as he hates answering to corporate interests, he's locked in as a "robot manufacturer" as much as an Average Joe is stuck at a 9-5 job because of bills, a mortgage; and most frustratingly, how easily someone can fall into the trappings of letting a job define their self-worth or sense of self.

--

When Professor Venomous gets introduced, he's partly in Boxman's mental bucket of shareholder/necessary business relationships. Boxman goes to great lengths to hide K.O., Rad, and Enid after accidentally booking his business dinner on the same night as an antagonize the Plaza event. He's scared that his 'hobby' would dissuade Venomous from buying any more of his robots and break their already tenuous business deal. Instead, Venomous starts to see Boxman through literal rose-tinted glasses and becomes interested in Boxman's ongoing Plaza rivalry but uses the robots as a continued excuse to check in again on this weird, intriguing man.

Another interesting precedent is that Boxman is more fond of Venomous from the jump. When interacting with other business partners, Boxman is over-the-top and eager to please in video calls and plays the oblivious idiot in casual settings, but behind closed doors, he's bitter towards them. Boxman won't hug his own children and scoffs at open displays of affection. Yet he wants to touch or hug Venomous as often as he can reasonably get away with. Part of his behavior is the same eager to please facade he gives other interested business parties, but the bigger part is a legitimate interest in developing a more personal relationship with Venomous.

The pink shoujo sparkles and elevator eyes Boxman has for Venomous are a blatant indicator he finds him attractive. That's a surprisingly huge part of what kicks off his interest. Look at how he reacts to Dr. Blight in the Captain Planet crossover. Boxman initially shows skepticism and disinterest towards her crazy plans, but the second she flirts with him, the flip switches. The promise of romantic interest grants her access to the full power and force of Boxmore. When she leaves at the end of the episode, Boxman is disappointed. He wanted to continue their partnership, especially their potential interpersonal one.

In Venomous' case, he gets extra points for joining in the fight after the Plaza brats interrupt dinner. He asks about the design and Lego brick-esque connectivity of the Boxbots. He's not above participating in the Saturday morning cartoon skirmish. Rather, he misses that kind of fight and yearns to experience more exploits like it. Venomous is the only on-screen character outside of Boxman's kids that shows a willingness to listen to, try to understand, and engage with Boxman in a more personable, intimate way.

--

Professor Venomous fell into villainy after he lost his powers and realized how overbearing he found the moral code heroes have. Being a villain comes naturally to him; he likes the fruits of his labor in the vast amounts of wealth, prestige, and material power that he could gain. Fast forward to present-day in the series and he's the picture of a successful villain. He figures out the easy button for amassing stupid amounts of money by threatening a Congresswoman with a death ray. He's sought out for deals involving his scientific prowess. He's respected and liked among other villains to the point he's invited to Billiam's parties. Though while he has a comfortable position, he's become jaded.

Enter Lord Boxman. Compared to the villains Venomous is used to, Boxman dances to the beat of his own drum. He's more interested in defeating the Plaza than an endless vie for prestige, wealth, or power. He says he doesn't care what the other villains think of him and how he does things. No matter what happens, he's going to carve out his own path as a villain and do what he wants to with his life. Somehow, Venomous got tied up in a new, different kind of bureaucratic process as a villain. As a hero, he felt like an outcast and a loser everybody looked down on without super powers. As a villain, he has everything he thought he wanted but it was more of a means to make up for what he lost. It was more compensating and filling in an existential hole vs actually taking meaningful control of his life. In stark contrast to that, Boxman knows exactly what he wants and puts his all into every pursuit, consequences and obstacles be damned.

Collaborating with Boxman is an epiphany. Dreaming up new schemes and plots to challenge the Plaza is fun. It's fulfilling and satisfying to Venomous in a way that heroics and solo villain ventures weren't. There's one scene in particular after Boxman and Venomous join forces for the first time and lose spectacularly. Both of them are smiling; it's joyous. Boxman was down and out without Boxmore, but building Fink's attack trike was a spark of hope that he can rebuild even if its from the ground-up. Venomous just lost his nice house and all of his current material possessions because Boxman blew everything up. But then Boxman turned around and presented the exact existential solution Venomous didn't know he needed by suggesting attacking the Plaza. It's the dinner party attack, but this time, Venomous was a full part of the planning phases. He gets to share in and fully experience the devil-may-care and more whimsical parts of being a villain he thought were long gone.

Venomous offers to buy out Boxmore and root out the shareholders. Finally, Boxman is free of one of the bigger obstacles between him and his all-time favorite venture. Not only does Boxman have free reign, but also the equal partner he so desperately desired; someone that's on his same wavelength and as invested in his kind of villainy as he is.

--

Another important dimension to Venomous' character is his destructive spiral as Shadowy Venomous. Finding that 'missing piece' in Boxman and Boxmore respectively isn't a magic solution. There's significant baggage in how much emphasis Venomous placed on his need for power. This was such a huge quest and chunk of his life that its difficult to give up on the idea entirely. Its similar to how some people spend so much time chasing after a specific job title or promotion that this elusive thing becomes an important part of what defines them or contributes to their sense of self worth. Venomous left Carol because of a gross misunderstanding that she saw him as weak. He was missing the value he assigned to super powers for so long that every new solution was always a band-aid or a stop gap.

Someone can find a thing or circumstances that significantly improves their life, but they need to see and recognize this psychologically too for it to be completely effective. In other words, Venomous needed to recognize the real-time changes and results from joining Boxmore, then figure out how to weigh those continued changes with his own self-discovery or improvement.

Boxman started improving on being a more proactive parent. Unfortunately, Venomous started getting lost in his own head and pulling away from his other responsibilities or general life. A change as big as a new partner, surroundings, and blended family would be enough to kickstart depression; especially because Venomous hadn't appropriately addressed why he needed this abstract concept of what it meant to be the 'most powerful being.' Success and self-actualization weren't included with the previous accolades he achieved as a villain. It wasn't obvious and forthcoming with Boxman either. The lack of introspection and vulnerable talks with Boxman or anyone else is exactly what led to the wind-up and eventual "I'll destroy everything if it means getting rid of the years of resentment and frustration."

--

Both Venomous and Boxman have some sort of adult trapped in the shitty corporate world element to their character writing. In a nutshell, Boxman struggles with the existential threat of losing who he is to one specific job he performs; Venomous finds villainy gratifying as more of a hobby or extracurricular activity vs a full-time job. He's successful at it but the version he's successful at is more of a distraction or a means to fill in a missing part of himself than true interest in his corporate role. Boxman's approach to villainy is considered juvenile and worthless. Venomous still loves villainy but he wants the freedom to have fun and go all-out without worrying about reputation or meeting the specific standards that comes with his current position.

In 2024, after the various rise of corporate buzzwords trying to guilt employees back to pre-pandemic work standards and inflation vs stagnant wages, there's new weight to the Boxman and Venomous character allegories respectively. These two are that success story of Boxman giving the middle finger to a crappy boss and Venomous making that leap of faith from an empty, soul-sucking job to the more wild, out of pocket thing. Venomous' ill-obtained funds becomes that treasured pile of "fuck you" money that so many people dream about having and using to take a risk on something personally, meaningfully valuable to them. Or just having a window of opportunity to enjoy life the way they want to without having to worry about bills and necessities.

More importantly though, while they describe themselves as business partners, it's two single, lonely men building a life and trying to healthfully blend their families together. Part of this life is making space for someone new that makes the other man want to work on becoming a better, more thoughtful person. Regardless of where a person sits in their job hunt or even at the height of personal achievement, the most important part is the support network they come home to or regularly interact with.

Thematically, Boxman and Venomous are the opposite side of the coin to the more straightforward found family K.O. builds and maintains. It's a reminder that no one has to be lonely. They can and will find someone that brings meaningful, valuable things to their life; someone that makes them want to change and grow. While this is about an explicitly romantic pair, the message applies whether that hypothetical person and relationship is romantic, platonic, or a new addition to a found family.

[breaking-news-the-aroace-has]

BREAKING NEWS

[godsandvillains-if]

Hi, just wanted to know if this story is still active

I still live!!! 🔥🔥

I've been silently writing chapter one and it's coming together rather nicely. Going to answer a bunch of asks I received from you guys, so bare with me. 😍

[magistera]

Final Fantasy X (2001) Final Fantasy X Kabuki (2023)

[put-a-keep-are-you-foo-dell]

[moonhowler]

little baby Angel pls

Yeet here ya go! Didn't feel like drawing all the arms so let's just say he hid them.

[oswinsdolma]

i was rewatching with a friend the other day and like. the thing that really gets me about the sorcerer's shadow isn't just the obvious queer subtext and the weight of all those secrets never told. but it's the fact that gilli is what merlin could have been in another life, another time, and vice versa. all the anger, all the desperation, the loneliness, could have so easily lent themselves to another story entirely, yet they didn't. and the narrative conspires to make us believe that this is a good thing: that the person merlin became is the way things were meant to be, and the best thing that couldn't happened. but the glaring truth that lurks just beyond this is that no matter how much better it may seem that merlin became the person he was, his story is still a tragedy just as much as (or perhaps more so than) gilli's. he still has to hide his magic, he is still treated like a fool. he uses his magic for good rather than for evil, but he still has to use his magic for something beyond who he is, justifying his existence with a so called greater good rather than just being allowed to exist as a neutral fact of this world. the story of bbc merlin is inarguably a tragedy, i'm hardly the first person to say this (and this is hardly my first rant on the subject) but part of what makes it so is its vehement refusal to accept that fact, even to the bitter end. it is a story, and a psyche, obsessed with the idea of meaning something, perhaps so much so that he loses the ability to exist as something beyond that, wearing himself ineffably down to a fragile and insubstantial bone, held aloft by the denial of its own dreams. in this sense, gilli and merlin are not just alike through their magic and their youthful hope for a world in which they are no longer forced to hide, but by their unconscious rejection of the very ideals that they wish to embody, their sisyphean self-sabotage that eats away at the fundamentals of who they are, or at least the potential of who they could have been. in the end, the message we get from the end of the sorcerer's shadow isn't the one that the characters think: that it is better to use your magic for good than it is for bad, but that it is a privilege to be able to think this way. but that any world in which magic is must be "used" to have any meaning is a dystopia, and no matter their intentionality, both merlin and gilli are long since lost to the only reality in which either of them could have ever been free. a loss so intense and so inevitable that even the narrative structure itself seems unable to acknowledge it.

[willwooddaily]

will woods new instagram post...

AAAAAAAAAAA /pos

[incorrect-marvel-because-why-not]

This is my work, please don't copy to another site.

[incorrectosemanverse]

Tao: Wait. Did you just flirt with me?

Elle: Have been for the past year, but thanks for noticing.