#and yet being better humans than most human beings

[erinwantstowrite]

bear with me here because i'm gonna ramble about something i've been thinking about for a while... and i'm not complaining, i'm just noticing

sometimes i think we've leaned so far into the vigilante side of the batfam that we miss out on what really makes their characters: detective work. we need more mysteries in their lives that don't lead up to some big bad "we already know who's doing it" or an "end of the world" or "yet again: this fucking guy." we need more stuff where spy movie music plays in the background and dumb adventures that don't lead up to some huge grand event with a big name villain. the shock factor stops being shocking or interesting in any capacity if we're like "Gah! the Joker! ... Again!" or whatever

does that even make sense? like "yeah sure they're blowing up a building again and there's hostages. oh look they're gonna poison the water supply." these aren't bad and that's not what i'm getting at because obviously this is a classic for comics. you need to have characters/antagonists that show up more than once and who can make a story better by being in it. and i did say to bear with me- that's because im tired. so like i hope im getting this across the right way? it's just that sometimes i don't wanna see a huge explosion, i want these motherfuckers solving a regular murder or a disappearance or regular corruption in a local office without it being tied to a grand reveal like "actually this person knows you as a long lost relative" or "they were at that circus can you guess which night they went?" that kind of thing? if you get me? like... more of the small time stuff makes the big stuff important, it makes it stand out more. at some point, the format gets repetitive even if you're switching up the villains. you can make these situations/mysteries still fun to solve for the characters and fun to read for the audience if you do it right

the concept of a detective dressed as a bat and having a sidekick in traffic light colors is inherently goofy as hell??? but that is what is so charming about it??? i think we have lost the balance between them being silly while also being intelligent with important conversations that criticize the world as we see it and teach lessons and can go over dark topics. nowadays it's always end of the world problems or just straight up the most gruesome true crime you can think of?? or they can ONLY do the dark stuff and the criticism without offering a balance of the good in the world. or we keep coming back to the FUCKING JOKER-

like yes they are vigilantes and with that comes a different level of their work, but their brand should be a mix between a black and white detective film that can get very nitty gritty and a classic spy movie, that kind of thing. at the end of the day, it's what makes them so different from the superheroes. that's what appeals to me.

seeing them in the big superhero groups is fun, don't get me wrong. it's always funny to see them standing next to people who are so powerful they never really fit in with anyone but each other, who chose to step up and use their powers for good. the Bats' specialty is Gotham and yet here they are stopping a god or whatever. and they do stop the god or whatever, all the while being an important leader and strategist to their teammates. they're important to have in these cases. but if there's a world ending event every time i pick something up, it's not as fun

the fact that they are so very human and not fantastical is why i like reading them. it's what makes the joke of people, even Gotham citizens, theorizing about them being cryptids, funny. they're fucking weird but that's because they're detectives. people who love to solve mysteries usually have a fatal flaw of curiosity. they forget the bounds between social interactions sometimes because they're used to working through problems or being intertwined with partners that understand them. but they're very much human. so human that it hurts them in many ways. and idk i've just been thinking about it lately and idk what point i'm trying to get across actually

it's just that in my eyes that's how it really is for Batman- a black and white movie narrated by a very serious man who took up a job to help people, one that has a deeper commentary on the world and viewed outwardly as pessimistic but actually has a deep hope for his city and who tries to help even the people who have wronged others. He's a stationary man in the belief that him being a constant can serve to soothe others and help them move forward. He stays in the middle of the path so he can tell everyone what is up ahead. he blends into the Gotham rainy night to serve justice but in a way that saves both the victim and the perpetrator. (the way he tucks a Robin into his cape is the same he does for Gotham with his mere presence.) and his background is actually so important to his story and yet people still somehow gloss over the lesson from it? he lost his parents because of a man who was on the opposite end of the spectrum to where he was in life. and yet he chose to help the people like the man that killed his parents. he could have done anything else with his power and money, but he instead is choosing to bring as many people up with him as he can. He's Mr. Serious that no one else can get a read on. and yet he walks into a room and he's already piecing together your life and what you're going through because he thinks it matters. he comforts people who have lost something or someone or themselves. I picture Batman and I don't picture a man trying to save the world, I picture a detective walking around a crime scene and trying to save at least one person every time he puts on the cape. and he put on the cape and became a vigilante because then he could go out of the bounds of what laws have been set up- and specifically, Gotham has other people in power who are corrupt, keeping the system that way. that's why Batman being a billionare and throwing himself into helping people at the risk of his own life is so important. he knows that if you are alive, you have something or someone to lose, no matter who you are. the dude is a bleeding heart but he doesn't know how to express it, in fear that if he gets too close, if he moves down the path with them, he'll be lost again

and then he's met with someone who should be a complete opposite, but isn't at all, because they're two sides of the same coin. his partner in crime, his son, a boy that is nothing like the black and white world that he sees. and that's the point in his life where he first sees that potentially getting lost is worth the risk. Robin is color and passion that needs guidance to move forward, but can not do so unless the stationary man learns to move with him. the kid is loud and reckless and you'd think he's from a different genre from the detective but they aren't so different, really. not when you look close enough. Dick grew up moving from place to place and seeing the world, knowing so many different people from different cultures. He's been learning to fly and jump and embrace the free fall his entire life. He's clever and he's sharp, and he thrives in the action and adventure. it's that perspective that compliments the stationary man. one is steady and the other pushes. he's the same genre but a different generation. and Batman introducing him to the way of life he chose for himself was another way he could save someone. because let's be real for a second? Dick would have gone down a very dark path had he not had Bruce, who understood, who saw not just himself in the kid but also saw who the kid has been his entire life until now. he saw Dick's parents, he saw the family he had in the circus, he saw the joy he had in what his family was doing. he saw the grief and the fire and the color that Dick's world was made of. because to Bruce, it always matters. Dick had to come to terms with Bruce's perspective to help anyone who they come across, to always give more chances, and it kept Dick from losing his color

what gets me is that the man who lives in the black and white world can actually see many different shades of gray (because black and white always needs the medium), whereas the boy in a world of color and light can get so focused on the bright that he can become single minded. and yet the boy sees a world of color and delves deeper into the lives of the peolle they come across and can be much more open minded, and the man in the black and white world sometimes forgets the shades of grey are right there. they are just like each other. they can exist without the other, but do they want to? because the black and white can be built up into the colored image, like the inking and shadows drawn on a comic book page before the colors are added in. they meet in the middle to complete each other. Bruce has been passing the story over to the next generation for a long, long time, even before his story was complete. and just like with the first Robin, it was so for every Robin afterwards. they each color in the lines differently, but that's what makes Robin so special, so unique. they are an art style that branches into their own life, but can not forget where they started: tucked into Batman's cape and the inky black of his world

and so detective work really frames their hunanity to me. the mysteries they get their hands on, the glimpses into the lives of Gotham citizens that they swore to protect, it's fascinating. it's what makes their story stand out compared to the people who can lift trucks or cast spells or run around the world in seconds. so yeah ig that's what i'm trying to say? that i want to read more of that? in both canon and fanon. cause even the small time villains we see can be like. AWFUL people and it takes out the fun of their gimmicks. and if it were any other day this would be a more coherent post but alas, it is not any other day

[muletia]

[tfp] obsessed!ratchet x human!reader

summary: when his emotions turned overwhelming, ratchet tried to hate you instead, to protect both of you. despite his efforts, he cannot stop caring about you

cw: angst, obsessive thoughts, emotional manipulation, mentions of jealousy and possessiveness, ratchet is kinda toxic in this (but he gets better i promise)

word count: 1250

At first, he tried to hate you. To push you away, to make you despise him just as much as he tried to despise you. To turn passion into hatred, to move to the opposite end of the spectrum, yet still burn with the same fervor, the same intensity. Hatred was, after all, easier to manage than love—easier to understand, easier to explain, and easier to back up with facts. Love was an unknown, raising millions of questions he could never answer. Hatred hurt less. And although both passions were fierce in their own right, Ratchet could swear that the first one was far less damaging.

At first, he tried to be cold. Indifferent toward you, mean, and grumpy. He would throw comments at you that he could have easily kept behind his denta because he knew they would hit a nerve and wound you to some extent. He wanted you to leave him alone, to grow disillusioned with him. To stop interacting, to stop looking, to stop being a part of his daily life.

Another warm relationship was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Ratchet was tired. Tired of war, tired of being a medic, tired of patching up his friends only for them to return with fresh, bleeding wounds—or not return at all. Every mech and femme he grew close to either died or suffered, and he had to watch. Watch as the light faded from their optics, as energon poured from their wounds, as they lost limbs. You weren’t a Cybertronian, but would associating with him not weave a similar fate for you? One filled with pain and suffering? If the war didn’t harm you, his feelings surely would—what difference would it make? And your death was something he could not survive.

That’s why he wanted to prevent it. To break the vicious cycle, to stop the machinery of torment. To give himself no hope of a happy ending because he knew it was never meant for him. He couldn’t afford to think of himself. Ratchet was harsh, unfeeling. He made sure that every word he said struck like an icicle, that it hurt. Yet he wasn’t sure who was suffering more. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain, but in this situation, he saw no other way. In a sense, he was saving you from catastrophe, from a collision that would destroy you both. He preferred to deliver the blow when his feelings were just budding, before his infatuation grew into something unmanageable. At least then, you’d both have a chance to recover.

But he found himself checking on you. Ensuring you were all right, even though he had just done so moments ago. He found himself having needs that terrified him because he was never supposed to feel them. Even with a carefully laid plan, with his rigidly set values, Ratchet’s thoughts circled taboo. He contemplated touch, intimacy. Happiness that wasn’t meant for him.

He often wondered if you understood why he had to be the way he was; what kind of clay the war had molded him from. If he explained the details, would you grasp his intentions? Understand that he couldn’t afford the luxury of love? He only hoped you didn’t think it was your fault, that you had made some mistake, even though he gave you no reason to think otherwise. And that hurt more than any sharp remark he ever hurled your way.

It was a pity that by the time he acted, it was already too late. You had cast your spell, enchanted him and his processor. You haunted him during the day, in dreams, when you visited your alien friends, and when you were at home. You appeared in his thoughts when he least expected it, yet when he needed it most. At first, sporadically—when you hadn’t visited them for a while, when he began to miss the sound of your chatter near his workstation. When the lack of your presence started to bother him. Then, you appeared more frequently, and fleeting memories turned into fantasies and daydreams. He stopped thinking he’d like you to sit with him and started longing. Intensely, fervently.

Still, he believed his plan would work. That he could end the relationship he had nurtured for so many months. But you had entirely different plans. Consciously or not, you dismantled the calculated, artificial hatred, tearing down the walls he had begun to build around himself.

The first time you touched him to draw his attention, Ratchet was convinced his knees would buckle under his weight. Suddenly, new colors entered his field of vision, and where you touched him, an explosion of sparks erupted, an electricity incomparable to merely being in your presence. The touch was more vivid. Raw and intimate, and so incredibly powerful that it broke him. It pierced through his defenses, reached so deep that Ratchet abandoned his plan. He stopped trying to change your relationship at an unnatural pace and in a dishonest way. Oh, what a fool he had been, what a burden to both you and himself.

Mending the fractured relationship didn’t happen quickly, nor was it easy, but it gave him time to loosen the collar and allow himself to enjoy your company. Your presence brought comfort and peace. Even when you disagreed, when arguments grew heated, Ratchet clung to those shared moments. He wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world and would fight to keep them going. He grew jealous when you claimed you wouldn’t speak to him again, though he knew it wasn’t true. He knew, but he couldn’t stop himself from pulling you into his servos whenever you started talking to someone else. He wasn’t proud, but seeing you in your rightful place, close to him, made everything feel right again. Everything returned to normal.

“I owe you my sincerest apologies,” he once said to Optimus, choosing a day when the base was nearly empty, save for him, his friend, and the two humans who had changed their lives. Whether for better or worse was yet to be determined.

“You have done nothing that could cause me harm,” Optimus replied.

“But I did not understand,” he said. “That has changed somewhat recently.”

The medic’s gaze anchored on you, dispelling any doubt in the leader’s mind. Optimus began to pity his friend.

“Will it ever improve? Will this torment ever bear anything good?” Ratchet asked.

Optimus fell silent for a moment. “I am unable to provide an answer to that. However, I am certain that surrender is not the correct course of action, and you must not pursue it, for it would destroy the benevolence you have labored so long to cultivate. [Name] holds you in great regard; I would urge you to keep this in mind.”

For Ratchet, it was already too late for retreat, though he had lost the battle with himself. You had entwined yourself too deeply in his spark, taken a permanent place in his processor. He failed to keep his feelings in check, and they took over, spreading everywhere.

He started with hatred, using it as a familiar form of self-defense. Now, when you come to him with the tiniest scratch on your finger, Ratchet is ready to wage a war for you, blinded by his feelings. Ready to protect you at all costs, dedicating every free moment solely to you. He was finished, undone, but the fact that his demise would likely come through you no longer mattered to him.

[envolvenuances]

one thing me and my sisters kept reverting back to is that... They didn't need to set up anything beyond what they hinted at season 1?

Ambessa wants to weaponize Hextec for the sake of her war in Nexus. It's better yet to test it, make a Guernica from this city. Jinx attacked the Congress. Piltover elite demands counteractions. That's enough to set up a civil war.

And to be fair all of that happens in the first three episodes. But as much as I enjoyed Caitlyn's downfall into fascism and originally called it more bold than I expected before they attempted to erase it in record speed and creation of excuses... I feel like I should have seen the problems coming now I think of it. Because it was all too militaristic in contrast to anything we had seen from their police before wasn't it?

I feel like the entire season they've attempted to rise the two sides to equal independent cities. When they had previously always made clear it was one city with extreme class division, the elite and the slums they isolated at the other side of the river. Most obvious example being the overuse of the word "Zaun" even by top-side characters for me when before even Silco kinda saved it for special occasions. The dialogues and the few character driven scenes kept insisting the conflict is driven by human nature or senseless emotional drawbacks like there's comparison between Caitlyn and Jinx. And acting like it started with the girls or at best Vander and Silco. And not like they tried marching on that bridge for a reason.

It's quite obvious they wanted a big battle scene to use their experimental animation tactics on. But it's like they couldn't stomach the political implications of the testing nuclear/chemical weapon allegories on favelados they had previously set up. Yet they stomach to animate a revolutionary poor black woman dying in a military police uniform. But anyways the result is those scattered plotlines trying to set up this big battle and it just... completely negated any suspension belief for us. Truces in wartime happen but not like they've presented. One of my sisters started laughing so loud on the scene of them raising the barricades in the bridge so Zaun characters can go die for Piltover even tho they never even made Ambessa threaten the lanes. You're so emotionally uninvested by that point we just started nitpicking the show and they did give us a lot. Like why do all Ambessa's soldiers just stand there watching while Mel and Caitlyn were double teaming her. This is the big battle you gave up your themes of class warfare and your two main characters sibiling bound for???

If Vi just committed to killing Jinx and Caitlyn just killed Isha, cementing the enmity between sisters (instead of that time-wasting Vander plot) and building up to a finale where the focus was a battle between Piltover and Zaun, and Jinx wanted to avenge Isha as Vi wanted to avenge Vander/her girlfriend's mom--

If Viktor becoming an apex hex-tech man made him "evil" not because the arcane "corrupted him" but because the council considered him a weapon Zaun would leverage against them and if Jayce, now a councilman and puppet to Mel, went on a mission to disable Viktor for Piltover instead of "humanity", thus cementing his deviation from the dream of helping people they had both shared in the beginning--

If Jayce and Vi had the realizations that they loved Viktor/Jinx more than their perfect/peaceful worlds and lives in the midst of a devastating battle where everybody lost--

If Jinx and Viktor had once again difficulty choosing between the person they loved most in the world who was threatening to kill them and the glorious revolution that had been thrust upon them and their crushing sense of responsibility--

If the writers had just committed to one idea instead of trying to do everything in a season that already shouldered a lot of weight, if they'd just finished what season 1 started . . .

[beelinx]

Could you do Leo Valdez dating a hypnos kid..🥹🥹🥹

leo valdez dating a hypnos kid hcs

a/n: got a bit carried away </3 honestly my fav one yet it’s the cutest ever 😭 hypnos cabin ilysm

If there is one thing Leo is, it’s dedicated.

That man built a whole ship in a few months.

Sadly, a trait that comes with that attribute of his is also being very sleep-deprived.

He spends so long working on projects, he misses many hours of sleep.

Sometimes deliberately, when he’s fully immersed in a project, and sometimes he just gets distracted and completely forgets that it’s a basic human need.

Anyway, during one of these sleepless nights, he met you.

As a child of Hypnos, you definitely love sleep.

Therefore, being awake so late at night was definitely not your ideal situation.

There was plethora of loud noises coming from outside, and the council of sleepy mumbles in your cabin decided that it was you who had to check it out.

Your slippers shuffled on the ground as you grumbled about your misfortune and sleepiness.

Well, that misfortune quickly turned into quite the opposite when you knocked on the workshop’s door, and it was Leo who opened it.

You always thought he was cute, whenever you saw him around camp. But – seeing him up close felt way more different.

You shoved down your intrusive thought on how hot he looked, and simply told him to be more quiet, since others were trying to get some sleep, and staggered back to your cabin to get some more quality rest.

Well, his first impression of you was that you were just about the cutest thing ever, with your sleepy face and silly looking pajamas.

He definitely started seeking you out more and more afterwards, trying his best to make conversation with you.

He’d constantly go to your cabin, claiming he’d been having issues falling asleep.

You’d help him, obviously, but his excuse soon became futile, as you had helped him enough times for him to not be having these issues anymore.

Clovis had to straight up tell him to quit it, because he was interrupting the afternoon nap time.

After that, he starts talking to you during the campfires.

Unlike most of your siblings, you were awake during these, so he decided this was a better time than ever to make a move on you.

One of these nights, he finally asks you out, and lucky for him, you liked him, too!

Once you two were actually dating, then I guarantee he’s absolutely the sweetest <3

Leo would definitely alter his schedule so that you’d be able to hangout while you have more energy, and quiet down his work while you sleep so that you aren’t disrupted.

He got you noise-cancelling headphones so that you’d be able to nap inside his workshop without being awakened by all the loud sounds.

If you can remember your dreams then he’d be more than down to listen to you narrating all these crazy dreams.

Sometimes he’s really shocked at what your mind somehow manages to come up with.

He also asks you if you can enter his dreams, thanks to your parentage, because he would love to be with you there, too.

This one might be stereotypical but (obviously) cuddles!

Easily the best pastime activity, since it does kill two birds with one stone.

1. Getting your annoying boyfriend to finally get some rest.

2. Sleep!

Anyway… since I do have a track record of mentioning siblings, I’ll get to that.

Your siblings quite literally don’t care about him.

They weren’t very fond of him at first, especially after the nosey nights he caused, but they quickly warmed up to him.

Now they feel neutral about him!

Not the biggest fans of him when he sleeps over, though.

He talks in his sleep.

And snores (sometimes)

It can get pretty annoying…

But back to sleeping over, it’s slightly against the rules to sleep in a cabin that’s not your own, but he hasn’t gotten caught yet.

Therefore, he basically spends every night at your cabin now.

He can’t really help it, he usually has issues falling asleep, and your cabin’s just so comfortable, he rarely has any issues there.

He swears he’s never sleeps better than when he sleeps over at your cabin.

It’s just so cozy and calming.

Literally prime nap location.

His friends thank you endlessly for helping him finally get some rest.

Piper and Jason are eternally indebted to you.

Honestly I think the Hypnos cabin would be incredibly cozy and I can’t stop thinking about cuddles with a bunch of fluffy blankets and I

Leo would look so cute sleeping all bundled up there.

He never looks as peaceful as he does then, so you always make sure to take a bunch of pictures to make sure to treasure the moment.

Then you immediately put down the camera and snuggle up with him.

[lovezbrownies]

LoveBird (Yandere!F!Pop Idol x GN!Reader.)

Masterlist - Previously

Synopsis: Yuna Claire is beyond famous, she's adored and admired. Yet when she meets you, a nobody, you look at her the same way, like she was a nobody. What follows is her wooing you.

It all started with a fleeting encounter that Yuna couldn’t shake, no matter how much she tried. She’d been stuck in a rare moment of anonymity, her hoodie pulled low and sunglasses perched precariously on her nose as she wandered into a small indie bookstore tucked into the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t the kind of place anyone would expect to find Yuna Claire, the untouchable pop idol. But she wasn’t there to be recognized. The noise of her world—the constant demands, the suffocating adoration—had driven her to seek solace somewhere quiet. And that’s when she saw you.

You were sat on one of the designated seating areas of the library, hunched over the novel you had in your hands, The Poppy War, flipping through the novel with an unhurried grace that felt foreign to her chaotic life. Yuna hadn’t meant to linger, but something about you caught her off guard. Maybe it was the way you scrunched your eyebrows faintly at the book, as if it sucked you right in the world. Or perhaps it was your complete disinterest in the world around you, your focus solely on the pages in your hands. For someone used to commanding attention, it was jarring to feel invisible in someone’s presence—and yet, there was something magnetic about it. She couldn’t look away.

What struck her most was the brief exchange that followed. As you got up, the book slipping from your hands, at this point Yuna was just behind you, Yuna instinctively bent to pick it up at the same time you did. Your fingers brushed hers for the briefest moment, and when your eyes met, there was no flicker of recognition. No widening of pupils, no stammering or excitement. “Thanks,” you said simply, a polite smile on your face as you took the book and moved on without a second glance. Yuna blinked, stunned. You didn’t know her. You didn’t care who she was.

That small interaction planted a seed in her mind that quickly grew into an obsession. For the first time in years, someone had treated her like a normal person, not a larger-than-life figure. The weight of her fame always pressed down on her, making every interaction feel superficial, every relationship transactional. But you were different. The memory of your indifference became a tether she couldn’t sever. It wasn’t rejection—it was freedom. Freedom from the persona she’d carefully constructed, from the expectations that suffocated her daily. You saw her, if only for a second, as just another human being.

From that day on, Yuna found herself drawn to the bookstore, always under the guise of needing “space” from her hectic schedule. She told herself it was a coincidence at first, but she knew better. Her heart raced each time she spotted you, even if she never worked up the courage to speak again. She learned your habits quickly—when you visited, what genres you lingered over, the little furrow in your brow when you couldn’t find what you wanted. She told herself it was harmless, this quiet observation. But deep down, Yuna knew it was something far darker. You’d given her a glimpse of something she hadn’t even realized she craved, and now, she couldn’t let go.

Yuna spotted you across the bookstore just as she had the first time. The familiarity of the scene was enough to make her heart quicken—though she’d never admit such a thing aloud. This wasn’t coincidence; it was destiny, she decided. You were meant to be here, meant to be hers. Adjusting the hoodie draped loosely over her figure and tugging her mask into place, she approached with the same deliberate confidence she used on stage. Each step was slow, unhurried, as though she had all the time in the world. Her sharp gaze stayed fixed on you, tracing the slope of your shoulders, and the slight furrow in your brow as you scanned the shelves. She let herself savor the sight for a moment before finally making her move.

When you turned at the sound of her footsteps, recognition flickered briefly in your eyes. But just as quickly, it faded, replaced by polite curiosity. No gushing, no fan-like adoration—just the calm, neutral expression that made Yuna’s pulse race. “We really have to stop meeting like this,” she teased, her voice low and smooth, every syllable carrying an almost musical cadence. The lazy warmth of her tone made it seem like she was speaking directly to your soul, drawing you into her orbit without effort.

You blinked, clearly caught off guard, and she saw the hesitation in your posture. “Oh, it’s you again,” you said with a polite, if cautious, smile. “Kind of a coincidence, don’t you think?” There was an edge of wariness to your voice, and Yuna’s sharp instincts picked up on it immediately. She tilted her head, letting her hood slip just enough to reveal the curve of her jawline, the faintest flicker of her smirk visible beneath the mask. “Maybe,” she said, her voice lilting with an easy confidence, “or maybe it’s fate.”

The words lingered between you, and you shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure of how to respond. “I don’t really know if I believe in fate,” you said hesitantly, your eyes darting to the shelf as if looking for an escape route. But Yuna wasn’t going to let you slip away so easily. She leaned in slightly, closing the space between you just enough to command your attention without crossing the line. Her voice softened, becoming almost a whisper. “You should,” she murmured, her gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “Some things… some people… are meant to cross paths. Don’t you feel it? Like there’s something here, waiting to be discovered?”

Your hesitation was palpable, and she could see the inner debate in your eyes. You didn’t know her—not really. You’d only met once before, and yet, here she was, weaving her way into your life with an ease that felt almost magical. “I guess I know what y-you’re getting at but um… I mean… I don’t even know your name,” you finally said, your voice cautious but curious. Yuna’s smirk widened beneath her mask, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “Yuna,” she said simply, the name falling from her lips like a spell. “ I’d like to get to know you better. How about this weekend? A little coffee, maybe? I know an amazing place that’ll make you feel like you’re… exploding.”

The words wrapped around you like silk, disarming your defenses before you even realized it. There was something hypnotic about her, the way she moved, the way she spoke, as though the entire world bent to her will. You found yourself nodding before you could think it through. “I… guess that sounds fine,” you said, the words slipping out almost involuntarily. Yuna’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction, and she reached out to lightly brush your arm, the touch brief but electrifying. “Perfect,” she said softly, her voice carrying a weight that made your heart skip. You didn’t know what you’d just agreed to, but under her gaze, it felt like you didn’t have a choice.

The café Yuna chose was tucked away in a quiet part of the city, a place far removed from the usual hustle and bustle. It had an understated charm: soft lighting, the scent of freshly brewed coffee, and cozy nooks lined with mismatched cushions. You found yourself surprised by how comfortable the atmosphere was, the initial hesitance you’d felt about meeting her already beginning to fade. Yuna sat across from you, her posture relaxed yet deliberate, as if she’d been born to own whatever space she occupied. Even dressed down in her hoodie and mask—now pulled down to reveal her striking features—she had an undeniable presence, a glow that made it hard not to get caught up in her rhythm.

“So,” she began, swirling the straw in her iced coffee lazily, her voice a melody that was equal parts soothing and alluring, “what’s your story? You seem… different from most people I run into.” Her gaze settled on you, not demanding but captivating, like she genuinely cared about your answer. You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the intensity of her attention, but something about the way she asked made you feel like opening up. “Different how?” you asked, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Yuna leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm, her expression softening. “It’s hard to put into words,” she said, her voice dipping into a thoughtful murmur. “You’re just… real. Like you’re not trying to impress anyone. It’s refreshing.” She chuckled lightly, the sound warm and almost self-deprecating. “Most people I meet are either trying too hard or not at all. But you? You just… are.” Her words lingered, settling into the space between you like a confession. For a moment, you felt seen in a way that was both unnerving and comforting.

As the conversation flowed, so did your guard. You found yourself laughing more easily, sharing little anecdotes about your life, and listening to Yuna talk about hers in vague yet compelling terms. She didn’t reveal much—nothing too personal—but she had a way of weaving her words that made everything sound meaningful. “Life’s too short not to chase what you want,” she said at one point, her eyes holding yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “You strike me as someone who understands that.” There was a subtle weight to her words, a quiet suggestion that left you wondering if she was talking about more than just philosophy.

The moments stretched, warm and easy, until the spell was abruptly broken. From the corner of the room, a voice piped up, hesitant yet tinged with excitement. “Oh my god… are you Yuna Claire?” Both of you turned toward the source—a young woman clutching a notebook, her eyes wide with disbelief. Yuna’s relaxed posture stiffened slightly, though only someone as observant as her might notice. Annoyance prickled under her skin, sharp and immediate. It wasn’t the first time a fan had interrupted her, but this was different. This was your moment, your time with her, and the intrusion felt like a personal affront.

Despite the irritation coursing through her, she smoothed her features into a soft, practiced smile, her charisma shifting gears as effortlessly as breathing. “I guess you caught me,” she said smoothly, her tone still warm but now tinged with the polish of someone used to this kind of interaction. “What gave me away?” Inside, though, her thoughts churned. Of all the times, it had to be now. Can't they see I’m busy? Do they always have to invade my space like this? Her gaze flicked briefly to you, worried this interruption might shatter the mood she’d worked so hard to build. The fan giggled nervously, holding out the notebook. “Your eyes. I recognized them immediately. Could I… could I get a photo and an autograph?”

Yuna hesitated for the briefest of moments, her annoyance bubbling just below the surface. She stole another glance at you, forcing a flicker of apology into her eyes before she turned back to the fan. Smile. Sign. Make it quick, she thought, the plan forming in an instant. “Of course,” she said softly, taking the notebook with a practiced grace that belied the irritation simmering beneath. As she signed, her other hand brushed the edge of the table, a subtle gesture that seemed almost possessive—as if to remind herself and the intruder that this wasn’t just her public persona’s time. It was hers. And she wouldn’t let it be stolen for long.

The fan’s interruption didn’t seem to linger too long, but as Yuna slid back into her seat across from you, you couldn’t help but notice a flicker of unease in her expression. It was subtle—gone in an instant, replaced by her usual serene demeanor—but it was enough to pique your curiosity. “So, uh… what was that about?” you asked cautiously, gesturing toward the empty space where the fan had stood moments earlier. Yuna’s hand paused briefly over her drink, but then she let out a soft laugh, the sound as breezy as it was calculated.

“Oh, that?” she said, brushing off the moment with a wave of her hand. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, though you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or just her way of deflecting. “I just… I was really good at debating back in my college debate team. Hah, hall of fame and all.” She leaned back in her chair, her grin a little too perfect as she sipped her coffee. “Guess she must’ve recognized me from an old tournament or something. It’s funny what sticks with people, huh?” The explanation was strange, but her confidence was magnetic, and the way she smiled—just a little crooked, a touch conspiratorial—made it hard to question her.

You let it go, deciding that the rest of the date was far too pleasant to get hung up on oddities. By the time the conversation began winding down, you found yourself surprised at just how much you’d enjoyed the afternoon. “This was… really nice,” you admitted as you stepped outside with her, the cool air brushing against your skin. “I’m glad I came.” Yuna’s lips curved into a satisfied smile, and she reached into her pocket to hand you her phone. “Here,” she said simply, “put your number in.” You hesitated for just a moment before relenting, typing it in and passing it back. Yuna didn’t miss the shy little smile on your face as she glanced down at the screen. The car ride back to your home was filled with easy conversation, and as you stepped out, she lingered for a moment, her voice soft and warm. “Next time, my treat.”

The next morning, everything felt surreal. Your phone buzzed incessantly on your nightstand, a flurry of messages lighting up the screen. Groggily, you reached for it, wondering why so many people suddenly had urgent reasons to talk to you. But as your eyes focused on the notifications, your heart skipped a beat. Social media was flooded with pictures—your pictures. There you were, sitting across from Yuna at the café, her face mostly obscured by her hoodie and mask, but unmistakable to anyone who really looked. Her unmistakable eyes and relaxed posture, coupled with the proximity between the two of you, had sent fans into a frenzy.

Group chats were blowing up. Friends you hadn’t spoken to in ages were suddenly sending screenshots of the posts with captions like “Is this YOU?!” and “Were you on a date with YUNA CLAIRE?!” The comments on the pictures were worse, filled with speculation, disbelief, and more than a little jealousy. You scrolled through the posts, your heart pounding with a mix of shock and confusion. Who was she, really? Her explanation from yesterday seemed laughable now, but the memory of her smile—so self-assured and just a little mischievous—made your stomach twist. Yuna Claire. The name suddenly had a weight you couldn’t quite grasp.

You set your phone down and exhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself. The day before had been perfect, and now it felt like it was slipping through your fingers, no longer yours to hold onto. The pictures, the comments, the speculation—it all felt unreal, like you’d stumbled into someone else’s life. And yet, you couldn’t help but think of the way she’d looked at you, like you were the only person in the room that mattered. The charm she exuded so effortlessly had felt genuine, even intimate. You wanted to believe it was real, even as doubts crept in.

Was she just playing a game? Or had you seen a side of her that no one else had? The thought sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, a small part of you hoped you’d get to find out.

The day passed in a blur, the events of the morning casting a shadow you couldn’t quite shake. Messages kept pouring in, each one pulling you deeper into the chaos that seemed to follow Yuna Claire. The odd thing was, despite the confusion and growing anxiety, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel angry. There was something about the way Yuna had carried herself, her charm and ease, that left you more intrigued than upset. She’d drawn you into her orbit, and it was hard to resist the pull.

By evening, your phone buzzed again, this time with an unknown number. A part of you hesitated before opening the message, but curiosity won out.

XXX-XXX: hey, i hope all that debacle didnt scare u off yet lol

XXX-XXX: im sorry for not being honest wiht u, its yuna

You stared at the text for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She’d clearly seen the fallout, but her message was casual, almost too casual, as though this kind of situation wasn’t new to her. Before you could overthink it, another message came through.

Yuna: let me see you again, ill tell u everything, but this time to avoid anymore of the razzi come over to mine, 

Yuna sent you a google maps link.

The words lingered in your mind, their ambiguity unsettling yet tantalizing. You typed out a quick reply, keeping your tone light.

You: sure but ill dress up, so if they see me they dont catch me off guard and ugly

Yuna: omg

Meanwhile, Yuna sat in the quiet of her penthouse, the glow of her phone illuminating her face. The fallout had been predictable—fans recognizing her disguise, tabloids running wild with speculation—but it didn’t bother her as much as she thought it might. If anything, the chaos only served to solidify her resolve. You were worth it. She could still see the way you’d smiled at her during the date, the way your hesitance had melted under her gaze. That was real. That was hers.

Her annoyance at the fan earlier lingered like a dull ache, a reminder of the world she’d chosen and the obstacles it placed in her path. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to regret the risks she’d taken to get closer to you. This was just the beginning. She tapped her fingers against her phone, a plan already forming in her mind. The next date would be even better—more private, more intimate.

Yuna smiled to herself, a lazy curve of her lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Let them talk, let the world speculate. She’d handle it all, just as she always did. But when it came to you? That was a game she refused to lose.

[a-998h]

The reader is female in this one and I will be using information from the 2003 cartoon, the DC comics, and my own stuff.

There will be a version of Blackfire mentioned, but she'll be not super evil, just more protective and obsessive.

So, what is reader? Reader, is a Tamaranean from the planet Tamaran. This means Reader is the following powers.

Converts ultraviolet radiation into energy (which is the reason for the sleeveless crop top and skirt)

Superhuman strength

Superhuman Speed

Superhuman Durability

Superhuman Endurance

Superhuman Agility

Superhuman Reflexes

Flight

Traversing the cosmos at light speed so long as she has copious amounts of extra energy to subside on

Tactile linguistic assimilation (most effective through lip contact)

Starbolts (highly concentrated solar energy that possess incredible power)

Enhanced vision (alien physiology leads to having better eye sight than humans)

Reader also has these physical traits

fiery-red hair

bright orange skin

large green eyes with light-green scleras

Nine stomachs

You were born the second child of Tamaran's central royal family. You have an older sister who was worried about you from the day you were born. You had a happy life, until your planet was attacked and you were taken. When your sister did find you, you were both captured by sadistic alien scientists. They pumped you both with ultraviolet energy, with the goal of seeing how much Tamaraneans could absorb until their cells exploded.

So, you ended up on Earth due to escaping the sadistic alien scientists and being separated from your older sister. You were freaking out, which makes sense. You were on a random planet and your sister is who knows where!

This is where Momo and Okarun come in. They were keeping an eye on things and you falling to Earth left a green comet trail. They followed it to your landing spot, and you freaking out.

"Wow, wow, wow, we're not gonna hurt you!" Momo says.

You still freak out, shouting words they can't understand. When a piece of debris from your freak out flies towards them Momo uses her powers and Okarun transforms to at least restrain you. That doesn't really work until Momo is nearby and you... kiss her?

Momo blushes and Okarun has a mini freak out about what's happening. Momo demands to know what the hell you did, when you finally calm down.

"Forgive me. I needed to make lip contact with you," you say, in crystal clear japanese.

Momo asks why and you explain that your people learn languages easier through lip contact. Momo gets more flushed in the face.

"So, what are you?" Okarun asks.

"Oh, I am Zozi of Tamaran, but in your language I would be known as Reader," you explain.

They pause, and then it clicks you're an alien. Okarun asks you so many questions about yourself and your powers. Momo offers you a place to stay with her and Seiko.

They're so excited to learn about you and your race, especially Okarun. He asks you so many questions. Momo finds you really cool too.

They help you keep an eye out for news of a purple comet trail, so you can find your sister. Seiko helps you find Earth foods that are similar tasting to Tamaran food. Your large appetite due to your nine stomachs is something Seiko is excited about. Momo helps you blend in as a teenage girl, as much as you can given your eyes.

Watching you fight is something Momo and Okarun love to see. It's a welcome yet surprise contrast with your kind and sweet base personality.

Okarun would beg to hear more about your planet, culture, and everything else he finds "cool". They feel upset that you've lost your sister, and want to beat up the aliens who experimented on you.

Momo and you have girl nights, and have a similar friendship dynamic as Starfire and Reaven in the show, just if Reaven was more emotional.

Overall, they love you and will do anything to help you find your sister.

[phillycheesesteakcore]

You want to talk nuance? Fine. I can think of four enforcers off the top of my head that provide nuance:

Grayson: In her time the Sheriff of the enforcers. A character clearly being positioned to the audience as more morally upright. By cooperating with Vander she works to reduce the skirmishes as much as possible. And yet, we see that she cannot publicly work with him in any capacity that matters, because Zaun and its citizens are dehumanized to the point where their appointed leader has feasibly little power and certainly no legislation. This is not a flaw in the system, it is it's design, and it is a system that Grayson upholds with her position as Sheriff. She's trying, yes, she wants to do good, yes, but people are still being harmed.

Marcus: The man who Silco has in his pocket. By allowing Silco to control him, the corruption within the enforcers grows and the damage Silco does worsens. In his tenure as Sheriff "whole underground areas [are] FILLED with addicts wallowing around in their own filth". Oh sure, it's Silco's command, but Marcus allows it to happen in exchange for keeping his secrets to avoid the consequences of his own actions. But he's a loving father, who cares for his daughter deeply and wants more than anything in the world to protect her. He even fantasizes about taking out Silco for good, even if that means dying with him. But in the end he lacks the spine to do anything of the like. Marcus is a well-meaning if weak willed man, but his position within the enforcers mean other people suffer for his gutlessness.

Steb: Our fishy looking friend from season 2. Steb is a deeply fascinating character to me. There aren't very many non-human looking people in Piltover. The only non-human on its governing Council is Heimerdinger, but he's a Yordle, an old and wise member of a race everyone in Runeterra knows better than to mess with. I'd say the only other non-human looking character I can think of working in the enforcers is the warden at Stillwater. So I find it fascinating that Steb, as a non-human who seems to be something of a minority in Piltover, shows an open disdain for Zaunites stronger than most other characters we encounter. It's clear right from his and Maddie's first meeting with Vi, his distinct unfriendliness and distrust of her is in sharp contrast to Maddie's attitude. I'd think as someone so clearly underrepresented in his community he'd understand what it's like to be misjudged, but that doesn't seem to be the case. But even he can put aside his own prejudices when it comes to defending his home side by side with Zaunites by the end of the season.

Loris: Again, a character we don't know very much about. From the beginning he seems a bit more apprehensive about certain things than other enforcers, choosing to pretend not to hear Maddie's conversation with Vi. He also seems a lot more reluctant than the others during Caitlyn's manhunt for Jinx in the Undercity. But he follows orders nonetheless. But he has a breaking point. With the call to martial law, he sees things going in a direction he just can't follow, and he leaves. Dragging your feet while committing atrocities makes you no less culpable than anyone else, but at least he realized that some things are just too far.

There's nuance, I can see that. I'm not saying every enforcer joined with their head full fantasies about stabbing Zaunite infants in their cribs. There's certain amounts of good done, or at the very least, being attempted at. But it always comes back to the damage being done and the system of oppression being upheld.

Arcane Season 1 fans: Oh my god, I love how nuanced this show is! There are so many parallels and micro expressions and the animation is so good!

Arcane Season 2 “fans”: Don’t make me use brain, just tell me every plot point. I don’t want to pay attention to the characters expressions to figure out what they’re thinking. Fuck nuance, cop = bad!

[indignantlemur]

Hello! Hope you're doing well. I was wondering if you had any headcanon's of the cultural incompatibilities between the Andorians and the Vulcans like the kas wan? Thank you.

Hello, hello! I'm going alright, and very happy to have my internet connection back!

Andorians and Vulcans have quite a few cultural incompatibilities, really. I'll list the most common points for you!

Meat:

Andorians are technically omnivores, but only just. They consume huge amounts of protein and fats in the form of meat, and only replicate meat about forty percent of the time. Everyone agrees that real, fresh meat just tastes better. Vulcans find this barbaric, to put it mildly. During their more active conflicts, Andorians in Vulcan prison camps were forced to subsist off of replicated, protein-heavy Vulcan fare - which Andorians, of course, did not digest particularly well, and struggled to draw nutrients from. The prisoners, unsurprisingly, developed profound nutrient deficiencies. Andorians considered this to be cruel and unusual punishment at best, and a war crime at worst.

Vulcan prisoners of war were likewise forced to consume actual meat, for lack of any other alternatives. While no one can say they were deprived of food, what the Andorians had on offer was not at all suited to the Vulcan way of life, or their physiology. Recovered citizens often required significant psychological and, in some cases, moderate medical intervention afterwards. It remains a common sticking point between the two factions.

Physical touch:

Andorians are constantly touching people. They're a highly social species with insectoid traits, and frequent contact on a daily basis is a part of healthy socialization. While their society has become heavily ritualized regarding interactions between different social ranks and between strangers to prevent conflict, friendly Andorians are very easy-going with physical contact even in professional environments.

The average Vulcan would rather have a fatal aneurysm than spend a day trapped in a room with friendly Andorians. Physical touch is highly regulated amongst Vulcans, who are touch-telepaths, and even bonded couples rarely interact physically in public.

(Andorians don't actually capitalize on this, despite what some might think. Contact of this nature is for friends and family only.)

Nudity taboos:

An extension of the physical touch incompatibility, Andorians also have no taboos centered around nudity and the physical form. Their concept of privacy is also largely theoretical, at least from a Human perspective. Communal bathing is common, as is sleeping in groups.

Vulcans, by comparison, have extreme taboos and social regulations regarding their bodies and their personal space. They do not bathe communally if it can be avoided. They do not share sleeping quarters unless bonded (and sometimes, only during specific times). They do not trespass on another's personal privacy if it can at all be helped.

Incense:

Vulcans are very fond of a particular kind of incense. Exact formulas for their incense vary by region, but all of them contain a plant-based ingredient that infallibly sends Andorians into violent sneezing fits. Lighting Vulcan incense around Andorians is considered incredibly rude.

This has yet to stop the Vulcans, who can be remarkably petty when they have a mind to be.

Music:

Andorians favour wildly expressive and emotive music, designed to provoke and release emotion. Andorian operas are known for being incredibly moving and cathartic, and it's not unusual for opera-goers to weep during a particularly fine performance.

Vulcans find these displays of overt emotion distasteful. The fundamental nature of music is mathematical and logical, and while the mind cannot always be inherently logical the brain preferentially seeks out patterns as an evolutionary trait. Therefore, it is logical that certain arrangements are considered pleasing by many. That is all.

Marriage & Bonding:

Vulcans pair-bond, and they can bond quite powerfully given their inherent psychic ability as well. They do not, however, go beyond pair-bonds; their instincts will not suffer anything that could be considered a rival for their mates. The fact that Andorians bond in couples and then go on to marry into quads is fundamentally incompatible with Vulcan instincts, and while Vulcans strive to overcome their violent natures some things still linger.

The fact that Andorian bonds are unbreakable, even against the efforts of an accomplished Vulcan mind-healer, was at first unfathomable to Vulcans. How could a species whose individuals bond to so many form such strong bonds as well? Surely, the number of bonds must weaken the strength of each individual bond!

Andorians, when asked, will coldly point out that the deliberate sabotage of a mating bond is an egregious crime, and initial Vulcan experiments regarding the matter are also considered war crimes.

The Vulcans, in response, find it sufficient to pull up images of the "chairs" that Andorians used in wartime (and out of it) to break Vulcan prisoners.

Neither side leaves the argument looking particularly good.

Hope this answers your question!

[atwas-meme-ing]

Just saw a comment on FB calling the 60's sitcom version of The Addams Family "the most functional tv family".

No freaking kidding! I mean, look at it: Gomez was treated as the head of the house. Morticia was supportive of Gomez, never put him down, respected his authority- and Gomez, at the same time, respected her boundaries ("Morticia, that's French!" "Gomez, later, we have an important matter here" "Ah, yes, later"). They supported each others ideas, goals, dreams, and rarely, if ever, called them silly.

Their kids were well-behaved, knew the rules, and followed them. Yeah, they did some really weird things, but they were not out of line with their family. They were taught to respect their parents, because their parents respected each other and their kids (this is a very important distinction, because respect is learned by watching, not by being lectured).

Anyone who came into their house was welcomed as family. Crazy old Uncle Fester, who arguably causes more trouble than any other single character in the show? Chide him a bit for threatening to shoot someone in the back, perhaps, but he still gets his own room. Grandmama needs someone to look after her in her old age? Set her up with a crystal ball and a gypsy tent in the living room so she can carry on her profession as a fortune-teller while still being surrounded by family. A detached hand that somehow managed to come to life has nowhere to go? Take him in and set him up with a system of tunnels under the house and boxes that open only from the inside so he has a private place to feel comfortable while still being a part of a family. Got a butler that looks a bit like Boris Karloff and is somewhat introverted and doesn't like to talk? Pay him well, give him decent servant's quarters, thank him for everything he does and let him know at every opportunity just how much he is appreciated, and give him as much time at the harpsichord as he wants (besides, he plays it beautifully and the whole family loves to dance). Heck, there were times that Lurch was treated like he was Gomez or Morticia's brother or something- I mean, there was a whole episode where Lurch's mother came to visit, and Gomez and Morticia pretended they were the servants- of their own house!!!

And then Cousin Itt has his own miniature room for whenever he comes to visit, and the entire family, instead of insisting that he try to get over his speech impediment, just learned how to understand him. Gomez made arrangements for his mother-in-law, Granny Frump, to get pampered beauty treatments at a high-class health spa, and insisted that Granny Frump was a lovely woman (and if you haven't seen that episode, Granny Frump was played by the same actress who played the Wicked Witch of the West). Morticia's sister Ophelia had a terrible habit of body-slamming Gomez, for whatever reason, and while Gomez didn't seem terribly fond of her (understandable), he never turned her out of the house, and he never said a bad word about her, because she was his wife's sister, and he loved and respected Morticia too much to disrespect her family.

And anybody that came into their house was treated just as well as the rest of the family.

It's never been expressly stated just what the Addamses are. Witches? Vampires? Ghouls? Maybe just a conglomeration of supernatural creatures? Whatever they are, they're one of the best examples of a loving, respectful family I ever saw.

[drjohnweston]

The most unrealistic thing in Being Human is the landlord coming round to fix the plumbing the same day that George calls him.

[wulfdreaded]

"bet."  zeke  gave  a  little  nod,  already  making  a  mental  note  to  venture  out  not  only  to  find  that  evil  witch  turning  people  into  animals,  but  also  visit  gothel  at  his  own  home  -  see  what  his  forest  was  like  &  if  zeke  could  find  similarities  or  maybe  even  differences.  he  was  curious.  he  may  be  against  portals  &  against  strangers  pouring  into  his  kingdom,  but  he  was  very  much  open  to  explore  other  lands.  well,  he  wouldn't  need  it.  he'd  always  been  content  in  his  own  domain,  but  ..  well,  if  the  portals  were  opened  anyway,  he  may  as  well  benefit.  "my  favorite's  yet  to  come.  vengeance.  but  i  guess  ..."  he  actually  had  to  think  about  that  for  a  moment.  roughly  one  hundred  years  of  bloodshed  caused  by  none  other  than  him,  not  easy  picking  favorites.  "for  one  of  the  king's  grand  festivals  the  entire  kingdom  had  come  to  the  castle,  but  a  kid  got  lost  when  one  of  the  carriages  had  to  hold  for  a  broken  tire.  must've  been  the  evil  wolf,  right?  they  sent  a  dozen  or  two  of  the  king's  knights  an'  hunters  alike  -  out  for  my  head.  they  found  me  at  my  home  at  the  time,  spittin'  insults.  i  made  sure  all  they'd  spit  from  then  on  was  blood.  after  i  took  a  few  down,  the  others  ran.  i  love  a  good  chase,  so  i  made  sure  to  hunt  every  single  one  of  them  down.  to  the  last  knight.  he  was  hidin'  in  town,  but  their  gates  never  stopped  me  before.  turns  out  the  little  kid  had  only  run  off  to  find  some  food  an'  the  village's  ladies  didn't  wanna  let  him  go.  the  knight's  head  found  him,  only  he  couldn't  tell  anybody  anymore."  not  the  most  eventful  story,  but  gothel  had  asked  for  his  favorite  violence & he liked to think ...that was it. well, his second. maybe he forgot something, maybe not. being wild & free like this surely was his favorite way to live.

"y'know,  the  river  was  red  for  days  after."  best  water  he  ever  drank.  "no  human's  gonna  take  me  down.  they  wanna  succeed,  they  gotta  send  something  bigger  an'  better."  that  much  he  knew.  "rapunzel,  ray.  got  it.  we  can  meet  again  here  t'morrow.  i'll  see  what  i  can  do."  he  hoped  gothel  held  up  his  end  of  the  bargain  as  well  -  not  because  zeke  was  worried,  but  because  ...  well,  trust.

the  promise  of  a  face  off  excited  him.  he  does  enough  not  to  showcase  that.  shoulders  straighten  out  a  bit  and  his  grin  softens  into  a  polite  smile.  “do  tell  me  about  your  travels  if  our  paths  ever  cross  again.  i'm  curious  to  see  how  it's  turned  out  for  you.”  more  so  he  wants  to  see  if  he  kills  the  witch.  one  less  person  that  can  be  his  competition.  oh  to  be  a  fly  in  the  wall  during  that  interaction.  to  think,  he  spent  eighteen  years  of  his  life  warning  rapunzel  of  people  like  ezekiel.  then  he's  here,  making  deals  with  the  man  and  forming  an  ally  ship  of  some  sorts.  as  long  as  it's  mutually  beneficial,  then  he  doesn't  see  the  harm  in  defending  another  villain.  “tell  me,  if  you  pride  yourself  so  much  on  all  this  bloodshed,  which  has  been  your  favorite  moment  of  violence?  surely  you  have  a  whole  list  up  in  that  angry  head  of  yours.”  gothel  doesn't  say  it,  but  he  just  wants  to  know  how  capable  he  is  of  doing  what  it  takes.  he  tucks  his  hand  behind  his  back,  wrapping  one  around  the  wrist  of  the  other.  then  he  balances  himself  on  his  heels,  trying  to  look  like  he's  not  waiting  too  eagerly  on  the  wolf's  answer.  “better  make  sure  he  doesn't  get  any  other  part  of  you  either.  i  would  hate  to  hear  that  someone  is  stitching  you  up  to  be  able  to  make  it  through  the  winter.”  he  shivers  a  bit.  this  is  now  the  second  villain  that  he's  talking  down  on  to  pit  zeke  against  them.  oh  the  joys  of  manipulation.  “blond  named  rapunzel,  goes  by  ray  now.  i  just  want  to  know  if  people  are  talking  down  about  me  to  him.”  so  then  he  can  have  their  head. 

[longagoitwastuesday]

Every day I am haunted by the fact JJK could be amazing but it will be just idk Bleach or something

[blueish-bird]

Everyone in Chainsaw Man is trans. Except for Angel Devil, who got a character/gender customization screen before he started life on earth as a fiend and is therefore cis in the least binary way possible.

[toytulini]

if you draw enough monster ocs, when you go back to drawing a human character, it feels like "sameface syndrome" everytime, by virtue of their face being. human.

[alevolpe]

your hc on the tiaras being the eyes of serenity makes me wonder if you have any hc about the planetary symbols on the foreheads aside from it being the natural state

Mmh, let’s see. Not particularly I guess, if anything I think I’d take away stuff from canon.

Like in canon is implied that the symbol appears when a senshi “needs help” or “is willing to help”, I don’t have that, cause that would imply the symbols inherently being tied to the team rather than to the individual, or it could mean that the senshis are inherently born to be tied in a connection where they would need this type of almost instinctual communication engrained into their being in the first place.

The ladder isn’t an inherently bad idea and I think you could go very interesting places with it, but I just haven’t gotten that far.

That really cuts to the question of: what is a senshi? Why do they exit and what is their purpose? And I know we have an answer in canon, but I don’t particularly love it, so I’m reworking the whole structure from the ground up.

In the general sense though, the symbols just stand as a way of identifying if one is a senshi or not. A weird analogy I have for it is like the red markings on a black widow, tho in the senshis’ case it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re a threat and the symbols is a warning. The symbol just is, as far as we know, and it’s prob not as easy to understand as the red markings on a spider.

[lateseptemberdawn]

No but like. Men could be the lowest of the low, not be knowing the most basic shit, inept at wit or anything else pertaining to the brain or mind or conscious, and yet the audacity be there. Like. How.