#bc there is in fact much more to this story

[glambots]

Moon storytime hcs? If you wanna make it x reader, maybe the reader wants to be read to, but is too embarrassed to ask bc they feel they're too old for it?

🌙Moondrop + "Story Time" HCs:🌙

⭐At first, he's not really sure why you want him to read to you, but he doesn't say no. And sure, he might tease you about it a little bit, but that doesn't mean he won't do it. ⭐Don't be fooled, this is as much for him as it is for you. It's nice, having someone want him to read to them again. He missed this, more than he wants to admit. ⭐It becomes a regular part of your routine with Moon, no matter what kind of shift you have. In fact, he eventually starts seeking you out, book already in hand. It's Story Time~.

[epiphainie]

I've read many Tommy takes care of Buck post-funeral fics (because I needed that to feel comforted after the fact) but I'd kind of like to see something like you said actually, like Tommy removing himself from Buck's life more

good for you! i'm always a defender of multiple writing choices all can be in character (especially for a show like weewoo where the characterization is an ongoing process) so i'm not saying one is right lol, especially for fanfic, you can do whatever you want forever!! sure tommy would comfort buck if that's what the story needs. it's just personally very boring to me lmao hdjsndk especially in this way where their relationship gets secularized away from buck's other dynamics bc i just don't see or like tommy as an exception in buck's life, if anything, i love his flaws in how he treats buck the most because it mirrors so much of what buck's experienced all his life from everyone, from his failed relationships, family, friends, found family, so he can be a great narrative tool for buck to finally have that emotional snap.

like there's something poetic about tommy entering buck's life as this display of what he should've had in a romantic relationship all this time, someone who makes him learn something about himself, someone who makes him feel safe, someone who fits in with all the other people in his life who make him feel safe day-in and day-out, but then the surface gets scratched once and tommy also falls into the pattern of treating buck like he knows what buck feels/wants/is doing better than buck himself. doesn't take his sincerity seriously and projects his own insecurities on him and makes him feel unsure. just what feels solid under buck's feet immediately becoming shaky ground once more where buck just doesn't know what to expect from the other side.

that's why i think tommy going no-contact and keeping buck in that uncertain place could be a great drive for buck to reach that snap of "i'm tired of everyone treating me like this" better than any other character. your best friends and your family where you're basically the youngest brother and with whom you're entangled so deeply is kind of easier to forgive and forget, revert to the safe space with only an acknowledgement of what happened. but a romantic partner of six months who already left you once is like what do i have to lose? like it's great breeding ground for buck's frustration imo bc this could be everything if they figure it out but also it is not everything yet where he's okay to mutually move on from their grievances like a family does with each other. it's like the best way tommy can serve buck's story.

and like i said, i think it would be very tommy to be like yeah i don't belong in this place after the funeral and seeing firefam together, taking that feeling with him and keeping himself away bc of a mix of guilt over pushing away the opportunity to belong in with them in the first place and his continued stubbornness that despite what buck says or does, tommy knows what he means better. it could work. god give me power to write smth 🙏

[wannabedragon-yep-lumenemporium]

Okay, Ricker than Fiction truly kicked down my favorite episodes room's door and placed its ass on the podium, I don't even know where to start 💀

There is sooo much to say aaaaaaa I'm screaming and doing some silly little dance 💀💀💀 So let's go as usual my take, episode's themes I noticed and the sus/interesting details.

The episode really stays true to its title: I've spent 9 hours straight reviewing this stuff and there's still no way I can possibly squeeze all of its interesting points in one post, I have no more space for pictures, I had to make pics collage, what the helling hell

_________My take (I'm part of the R&M cult, so, impartiality)________

The episode was absolutely astounding, the animation was great, the creativity was shocking: it has lore, it has multiple characters development, it has action, it's funny as hell and even wholesome, writers need to calm down this season (no, don't you even think abt it)

The meta joke was cool: it really tickled my brain the fact that Baron Thistle plan was completely meta: he was planning to doom his fictional world by turning it into a movie perceived as mediocre by the audience outside the movie itself, an audience that lives inside another tv show who has an audience as well! lol this trope was like a meta Matryoshka doll, super cool.

Rick having so much fun shows his healing process: I cannot express how happy I was to see Rick just interacting without holding the grudge after the first meltdown, just living in the moment, playing as a kid, making friends, happy, wild and free:

look at this cutie, look at this absolute maniac starting to like Tannenbaum just bcs they're fighting ahahah I love it and the rhythm of country music was such a nice addition and also a recurring theme (reference to the April's fool video and the Rick the Mort and the Ugly ep, idk why this season is a wild west season but it's cool💀)

Rick admitting and understanding that he doesn't know how to process his own feelings is so sweet and heartbreaking 😭😭

It was also crazy to see how Rick didn't even react to Morty beating him, just like he did in Cryo Mort a Rickver (many of you pointed that out). He just understood Morty's mood and helped him without too much of a fuss. Like, who is this old fart? I love him!

Campbell's-Darmon's Hero Journey scenes are just:

I cannot even describe how turned on I am by the mere thought we actually saw it in the show, like: "there, I'm literally showing you, look!" I feel so grateful 😭😭 I know stuff abt this topic, I urgently need to say stuff abt this topic

The circle simplifies in precise and repetitive steps the whole Hero Journey, a symbolic summary of the personal growth of the protagonist of a story, it was created by Campell and later on re elaborated in a more modern key by Dan Harmon, with more emphasis on the psychological journey and growth of the character. Every single episode inside the tv show, and the whole series at large, follow this pattern, seen almost as a sacred process by Harmon himself.

This scenes showing the Hero Journey are incredibly important for many reasons: it's interesting to see how they specifically highlight that each phase is a combination of the previous step and the second one, not an independent, separated arc.

It also tell us that, very likely, the Central Finite Curve structure itself is built on this precise model, that would explain why the Citadel (its core) runs on canonical events (all the Citadel events are in fact movies' "clichés" or famous storytelling tropes mixed together, so basically, mini heroes' journeys) and also why Evil Morty needed to go rogue in order to bring down the Curve. The only way to break the circle seems in fact to "go linear", literally ejecting yourself out of its trail by poking out of the narrative circular route, and apparently you accomplish this by pissing everyone off... Remember the "There you go kid, now you're Evil Morty too: sooner or later we all are, on this side of the curve."...?

To return to the circle again, instead, you need to "get curvature" by following the journey steps once again.

On a psychological level, this makes sooo much sense and is such a precious piece of advice when it comes to break toxic relationships:

no one will be happy with you stepping away.

More often than not, ppl will call you out instead of the abuser, for stepping away from the abusive family system, the toxic work environment or the unacceptable social instance, for rejecting any kind of interaction and for putting up solid boundaries. They will demand you to be more patient and endlessly empathetic. Even "in good faith ppl" won't understand why are you going no contact or having boundaries all of a sudden.

So in order to break the cycle, you inevitably end up becoming an outcast, (the actual evolution of a scapegoat is in fact a trickster if you think about it in terms of mythology) living in an in-between of two worlds that both failed at being your safe home.

Of course this doesn't mean you won't be able to restart a new personal hero journey after breaking from the toxic cycle💛

... and also, yes, you guessed it, we are in s8... the season of Change. That means that the cycle will somehow start from a new beginning after this season...

I'm not ready for a new BeNnInG, I'm scared, please pick me up, plz 😰

The switching shirt reference: I guess that the Unmortricken reference I was thinking about since the ep sneak peek, was actually on point. In this episode we see the many differences between Morty Prime and Evil Morty. Specifically, what Morty Prime does differently from Evil Morty, once he find himself in his role (in his… shirt…?), playing the evil guy role... and let me tell you, Prime really does his worst 💀 This is going to be weird because usually I always take Mortys' side (how could I not when it comes to Rick' misdeeds) but this time I feel Morty Prime is acting like... a little shit...? I mean, he's right, Rick once again involved him into some crazy adventure out of pettiness, and yet... you feel like you're just a poor 14 yo who just wanna go home, but at the same time you're grown enough to shoot unarmed, innocent people (remember that nps/characters count as ppl, we learnt that in the Matrix ep), to betray those you manipulated into seeing you as a motherly figure just bcs (classical "we are a family" corporation bs), and to tug Rick that way...?!

After this episode I feel like Morty is actually keep exploring his evil side, but not the kind of "evil" that "Evil" Morty is.

I'll die on that hill defending all Evil Morty's actions, you can build a mausoleum where I die, and another one on top of that, bcs I won't move from that f*cking hill, but we can surely say that Evil Morty's actions are harsh, edgy and often cryptic: Morty Prime's actions on the other hand are quite linear, they are not dictated by difficult decisions, internal turmoil and a harsh reality check, they're rather just actions done out of pettiness, repressed anger, fear and arrogance. Rather than be similar to Eye Patch Morty, Prime is in fact closer to the classical archetype of "The Evil Morty" lately...

hiding behind his armies...

too coward to get things done with his own hands...

emotionally manipulative...

*I never knew I wanted to be a succulent minion so bad, yet here I am*

blusterous, angry, lashing out for futile reasons...

a cruel despot, not a leader.

I don't think this will necessarily be THE Morty Prime's arc, but rather a way to show us what happens when a Morty gets egoistic, highlighting the difference between an "evil Morty" and an actual bad Morty.

I think even the word "bad" instead of "evil" is right there on purpose.

In fact, you know who Morty reminds me of in this episode...?

Remember that this happened in season 3... the other half of an eight... the numbers... the halves... the VOICES!!👁️👄👁️

(I'm also kinda of thinking that we'll never have a Son of Thistle Pocket Morty bcs Morty isn't behaving like a regular Morty this time, rather like a Rick or worse, so maybe they could have added a Son of Thistle Trainer, but that would have been confusing in terms of lore I guess)

What do you think the show is trying to tell us here about Morty Prime? Is he actually still just a poor kid or is he just an immature adult with unresolved trauma that wants to get his way, staying a child more than he should (a little bit like that 30 yo ex that never washed their own clothes/did the dishes...)?

a little bit like a Jerry...?

My take is that he's just an immature rickhead: I mean, Slick was through and through the 14est yo Morty we ever saw and yet he was definitely more well adjusted, than what Morty Prime is after 8 seasons of adventuring and therapy.

Or maybe I'm just trying to cope with the fact that bad tight-coat-Morty being a total 💅✨evil mommy💅✨ is conflicting with the fact that he's technically 14 yo💀

no, really, I think he's a little rickhead anyway and, yes, he really needs to grow up -_-

like, this ain't normal...

dude...

(and if you're asking how u can fall for a cactus-like guy, your answer is: Sylvari. Bathe your eyes onto those sexy plants, you thank me later 🔥🔥)

Speaking of Jerry instead....

Can u believe this season is making me love this character? I really used to hate Jerry, and now I can't live without seeing this goofy little guy in every episode, they really are doing an amazing work with him this season.

How Rick's toxicity is slowly fading...

... to leave space for Jerry to grow more confident.

Also, the writers explaining that Jerry has some little attention deficit issue...

... feels to me like it debunks the whole "Jerry is just a stupid b1tch" trope. I mean, he's still a big baby... and a bad writer...

But he's also a good buddy to the core, that cares a lot about people, he's just having some hard time staying normal, like us all.

He supports both Rick and Morty throughout the whole episode, standing behind the machine and defending them bravely, even after some temporary troubles, just like he did in the Easter Bunny episode.

I was screaming ahahahahah 💀💀

I'm a little sad we almost had no Summer arc, but I'm glad she's doing wonders with her spare time💀💀

In conclusion, is crazy how much I love this episode! I'm uncertain about what Morty arc will be this season, I'm loving how Rick, Beth and Jerry are becoming more empathetic and caring, and I like how Summer is growing more independent (she even dedicates time to write!) and mature: she seems no longer obsessed with being the popular cool girl that everyone likes, and that's wonderful.

________________Ep. Main themes in a nutshell_________________

Feelings over awareness: Despite Rick saying it was an error, I guess the machine truly understood the assignment. Same moral as the Bethjamin Button episode: you need to feel and experience something in order to understand it and care about it. I'm also asking myself if they would have been able to come back to life in the real world without James Gunn's tear, implying that the audience's emotions and love for a show is what keeps it alive, along with all its characters (I would have put *touched Vince McMahon gif* here but I reached the images limit for this post💀)

Different Mortys, different outcomes: Mortys have significantly different ways to approach power, conflict and survival. While Prime seems to have internalized the "nothing matters" concept, Evil Morty knows very well what matters and how important and unique everyone is.

Shooting at unarmed people because they're "evil": Morty Prime anger is getting worse lately and his morality is cracking quite a bit. We saw him defending criminals against Nick's violence a couple of seasons ago, because they were unarmed (unarmed as much as criminals in a den of criminals can be, yet, still unarmed) only to end up constantly pushing for shooting all unarmed ppl he perceives as evil or annoying in later seasons: in Unmortricken he blasts Rick Prime without even thinking and he encourages Rick to "take the shot" on an unarmed Evil Morty that is actively helping and protecting them (I'll never forgive that little sh1t for this è_é). And I mean, u know it's bad when even Rick is weirded out...

he also incites Redwood to shoot Baron Thistle (unarmed) and he's going for an head shot on Tannenbaum -who's basically Goofy from disney, okay?- without any hesitation... Let's say Morty is going through a lot lately and he needs to unpack some repressed stuff...

__________________Sus stuff/interesting details___________________

Rick being the Rickest Rick: Rick Immediately analyzing crystals-like stuff and energy sources right after puking had me dying 💀💀

Directors and writers: I started to pay more attention to the directors and writers of each episode, after I saw a post about how The CuRicksous Case of Bethjamin Button being written by 2 women obviously triggered a bunch of alpha males. Rob Schrab wrote this amazing folly and Douglas Einar Olsen directed it. Just pointing out that Schrab also wrote "A Rickconvenient Mort" (planetina's episode) where Morty goes totally w i l d, and that absolute fever dream of "Rise of the Numbericons: The Movie". I would give full credit to Douglas Einar Olsen for the totally crazy action plot though, 'cause he was the director of gems like Final DeSmithation and Rick & Morty's Thanksploitation Spectacular.

I found interesting the prison brawl parallelism with the Matrix episode, bcs it shows how things somehow always turn unrealistically, positively funny and light for Rick, who just goes with the flow like in a 90' action movie, while Morty lives in f*cking breaking bad episode whenever is left alone, and he gets constantly f*cking stabbed/assaulted/chocked/kicked/shot/mutilated, wat-the-hell-is-going-on 💀💀

Another interesting thing about the shirt-shot on the shoulder reference, is Morty Prime vs Evil Morty reaction to getting shot: Morty has never been shot (if I recall correctly, only his toxic self was) and there’s in fact a huge difference between how Evil Morty handles the situation vs Prime; we could in fact speculate that Morty Prime is a little bit of a pussy and that he should grow up, but that would be a toxic and little bit mean thing to say, and even a little bit untrue maybe, so, instead we will say that he is very inexperienced when compared to Evil Morty 💀

I needed to include more pictures/points but I'll make separate post bcs it's just too much stuff, I'm considering making video abt these analyses bcs one post isn't enough, and like making a short post right after the episode, with just some random impressions and then a full video for the day after, idk (also, I'm shy, I'm not a native speaker u_u' )

Thank you for reading my stuff 💛💛

[timdrakesuperspy]

fuck it dc hunger games au.

bruce was half covey, half peacemaker born in dist 12 but he was moved at a young age to dist 1, one of the very very few people who did that because his dad was a healer and his peacemaker mom was not only wealthy (alfred, as the use, is their butler) but very persuasive and moved the four of them to capitol. the waynes die and bruce had alfred start training him as a rebel career, he wins his games as a volunteer at like 16 in the 54th

clark was some kind of capitol experiment stranded in 11 as an infant, martha and jonathan werent meant to have found him but they did anyways. he was reaped at 13 for the 50th and barely managed to survive, thanks to his enhancements. they waited to put clark in the second quarter quell, where they all were given enhancements (some just placebo, some more hurtful than helpful), so they wouldnt have to come up with a cover story for him at all. anyways the president kills ma and pa and if its lionel then he “saves” clark and has him hang out with lex a lot. clark immediately tries to escape as much of it as he can the moment he turns old enough. marries regular old troublemaking lois (or maybe shes a fellow victor?), has jon, enrages lex who is by then president. he’s jelly so he makes kon and then gets pissed at himself and drops him off in the district, which possibly causes lois and clark’s separation if u make this superbat but regardless they dont get divorced for their kids’ sakes. jon obviously is young enough that he doesnt know kon is a plant but maybe lois just cant get over that, but kons young enough and has just enough false memories that he thinks he was always there. lois throws herself into her work or maybe lex has her killed idk anyways kon becomes a katniss like figure to jon, his prim. the hunger games ensues, except clark has to be his older son’s mentor after he volunteers for his younger son.

meanwhile dicks family were covey, but his folks got thrown into district 7, where they barely manage to hold onto their culture. gets robin nickname, gets orphaned at 8, gets reaped at 13 in the 63rd, bruce takes him under his wing. he is a finnick-like fan favorite.

babs was the victor of the 67th at age 18, she was from district 3, daughter of mayor gordon. afterwards she was punished by the capitol for something similar to tims parents, being too nosy, but during her depression back in 3 after they paralyzed her for that, cass found her and stole her away with her with her to district 13 bc if anyone can do that, its babs and cass

jason, 11, is distantly covey, but doesnt know it. his family got stuck in district 6 and tries to steal parts from bruce and dick’s train while on their victory tour, brucie picks him up and doesnt let anyone take him, saying “isnt he so darling!” and “i can make him into a civilized boy!” the next year he gets reaped in the 69th, coincidentally with a manic 18 yo tribute from 5, nicknamed the joker. it comes down to jason and the joker, obviously jason gets beat up and then the joker electrocutes and blows up jason (using the entry pads?) but ends up catching himself in his trap as well. when the capitol takes him out of the arena, they switch it up a bit and make jason the victor (they don’t want a rabid victor, a la titus) but hijack him (or maybe lock him away somewhere and replace him with a body double, or a mix of both where they just hijack him so bad dick and bruce wish he was a body double).

tim grew up in district 3, but he and his parents were too ambitious and nosy and knew too much so when he was 13 his mom was killed and his father paralyzed and he and jack got banished to 11, where tim expected to get to work the cushy office jobs like managing or even something like fixing tractors, but got sent to work the hardest job of all in the fields. tim’s family was not covey and were in fact more likely capitol peacemaker or merchant types, but they did just end up getting too close to government secrets. sort of plutarchy. his and kon’s games, when kon was 16 and tim 15, were quarter quell 75, which was that every even district pulled two girls, and every odd district pulled two boys. they pulled something like the star crossed lovers, but instead because lionel made homophobia a thing, they had to say they were each others brothers, and both ended up surviving

damian, son of capitolite talia and dist 1 bruce dropped off in the district when he was 8, is 12 for the 77th hunger games. he is reaped, of course, and bruce has to mentor him, of course. he wins by a landslide and is by far a capitol favorite, but deeply worries the rebellion and lex, who knows ra’s has presidential ambitions

cass grew up in but ran away from the capitol, found refuge with steph in 12, was reaped in 12 also for the 77th games, (i think by my personal timeline she wouldve just turned 19 but again, she was a capitolite and this was an illegal and rigged reaping anyway) but successfully escaped again and found her way to 13. the capitol dealing with replacing her is the only reason damian didn’t get killed by the capitol like a typical 12 yo

steph is still a covey and a hunter in 12, which is more like haymitch’s 12 because the president targets dist 11 in this. she was probably never a victor but still a johanna like figure. maybe steph’s dad was a victor and got a lot of secrets from them which she shared with her besties duke and cass, who used them (unknowingly on duke’s part) for the betterment of the revolution

duke is probably the “mockingjay” and from district 12, the boy on fire. he is 17 when he beats the 78th hunger games, not by winning, but by lighting everything up. something clever and not crude like setting everything on fire. but he illuminates the capitol and luthor for all the cruelty committed. at the end its just him and a trio of careers, one of whom realizes what duke is trying to convey and that he needs to win and keep telling his story, so she turns on her allies for duke’s sake. the rebellion breaks in then, rescues duke, and then he wakes up in 13 a room over from his savior, district 2’s isabella ortiz. maybe duke’s district partner was 12 yo carrie kelly and when she died duke did a rue-like memorial for her with candles or flashlight. maybe she was afraid of the dark and maybe that years arena was especially dark/cave-like so him doing that was an incredibly selfless act

jason finally manages to get unhijacked in dist 13 and really bonds with cass over being a walking talking weapon for ages

possibly the amazons are in charge of 13, and cass managed to convince them that the rest of the districts deserve to be saved, inspired by all the people she met on her travels (all the bats and probably more). maybe theyre like pjo amazons in that they’ll let the women keep their men as things, so the covey that escaped to there are still going strong, if not by a lot

[eriksrightnipplering]

no clue what to name this, but ya know, gn!reader helps Tryst get some more time with his daughter. I named the daughter and the mom bc I cannot remember if they were named, but I don't think so. Either way, enjoy :)

“Shit,” Tryst grumbled, looking down at his phone as you waited for the minivan to pass by in the parking lot.

You shifted the shopping bags in your hand, curling your fingers around his wrist to tug him forward as the vehicle rolled past. “What is it?”

“I didn’t realize the time,” he muttered, already fishing his car keys out of his pocket, the worn leather fob dangling from his hand. His brows pinched together as he unlocked the car with a beep. “It’s Saturday.”

You glanced at your watch as the two of you stepped off the curb toward his beat-up sedan. Saturday, 2:12 PM. You felt your stomach drop a little, your pace slowing as the realization clicked into place. Hope’s weekly visits. They always started at three sharp, but he liked to get there early. Said sometimes her mom ran late, and on good days, that meant he’d get a few extra minutes. Maybe fifteen, maybe twenty, if he was lucky.

He told you about his daughter back on your fourth date. Sat across from you at that tiny Thai place with the bad service and flickering candlelight, fiddling with the condensation on his glass as he explained it all from the custody arrangement and the rules Natalie had set in place to the fact that she’d come first every single time. You remembered nodding, shaking your head in that way that said yeah, that’s how it should be, before reaching across the table to brush your fingers over his wrist.

Now, you patted his arm gently, shifting the weight of the shopping bags against your hip. “Leave me here. I’ll call someone or take the bus, I don’t mind.”

He tilted his head, one foot already at the edge of the driver’s side door. His expression softened for a second before he shook his head. “No, no, it’s on the way home.”

“You sure?” You hooked your fingers around the straps of your bag, eyeing him carefully. You didn’t want to slow him down. You knew how much these Saturdays meant to him.

“Yeah.” He popped the trunk, tossing in the bags with a clatter of groceries. His voice dropped slightly, rough around the edges. “Just… stay in the car, alright?”

You caught the edge of hesitation in his tone, the quiet plea buried under practiced calm. The driveway wasn’t exactly friendly territory for him. His ex wasn’t either, from the sound of it. You weren’t sure if Natalie had even been told about you yet.

You nodded without argument. “Sure.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, you pulled the door shut, the faint smell of his cologne lingering on the seatbelt. He settled behind the wheel, already shifting into reverse with practiced urgency, jaw tight as he made his way out of the lot.

As the car rumbled to life and he merged onto the main road, your fingers itched to reach for his, but you didn’t. You just sat quietly, knowing your presence was already enough weight for him to carry on a day like this.

The clock on the dash read 2:15. Plenty of time to get there early. Plenty of time to hope for those extra stolen minutes.

The neighborhood looked like something out of a catalog, a glossy, picture-perfect suburb with manicured lawns, matching mailboxes, and wide, tree-lined streets that curved into cul-de-sacs you knew you'd never afford in this lifetime or the next. You tried not to gawk as Tryst pulled into the driveway of a white two-story house with navy shutters, the front porch dressed with wicker chairs and flower boxes brimming with petunias. His jaw was tight, eyes forward, shoulders squared with a stiffness that told you he wasn’t just here to visit. He was bracing himself.

The car rolled to a stop. Tryst killed the engine and opened the door without a word, grabbing a small black tote bag from the backseat before closing the door with a muted thunk. You stayed where you were, hands folded in your lap, trying to blend into the leather upholstery. He’d asked you to stay in the car, and you didn’t blame him. You didn’t belong here, not in this polished, careful neighborhood, and definitely not in this moment.

Through the glass, you watched as the front door opened and a woman stepped outside, cradling a small pink bundle against her chest. Her brown hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, her clothes crisp and expensive in that casual, effortless way that only came with money. You couldn’t help but glance between her and Tryst, piecing together fragments of their history based on posture, expression, and distance.

Tryst approached slowly, his hand tightening around the strap of the tote. His body language was careful, like he was approaching a stray animal that might bolt at the wrong move. You saw his lips move as he spoke, but their conversation came muffled through the rolled-up windows, the only sound filling the car the steady hum of distant lawnmowers and birdsong.

The woman shifted Hope in her arms, adjusting the pink blanket so only the faintest peek of her dark hair and round cheeks was visible. You pressed your palm against the window absentmindedly, wishing for a closer look, even if you knew it wasn’t your place.

Natalie, her name drifted back from stories Tryst had told you in pieces. Late-night confessions over takeout, quiet frustration during long drives. You’d never seen her in person until now, but something about her posture told you everything you needed to know. She kept Hope angled away from him, her arms protective and firm, her expression unreadable from your distance.

Tryst pulled the black tote open, reaching in and producing a small, well-worn stuffed bear. You recognized it immediately from when you helped him move from his mom's house to your apartment. A faded brown bear with one crooked ear and stitching along its side, the kind of toy that looked like it had history. He held it up for Natalie to inspect, his features softening despite the tension lining his jaw.

She didn’t take the bear right away. Her gaze flicked between him and the toy, some unspoken boundary thick between them. Eventually, with a slight incline of her head, she relented, and Tryst tucked the bear gently beside Hope, careful not to overstep, careful not to reach for her. You could tell he wanted to. His fingers hovered near her blanket for a heartbeat longer than necessary, but he pulled back, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

Not even ten minutes passed before he was walking back toward the car, the black tote now empty at his side, his shoulders slumped with something heavier than exhaustion. You quickly settled your expression into something neutral as he slid behind the wheel, slamming the door shut harder than he probably intended.

The car was quiet except for the faint click of his seatbelt. You waited, your throat dry, until he exhaled roughly and started the engine.

“She doing okay?” you asked carefully, your voice low, almost unsure if you should say anything at all.

His hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles paling. “Yeah,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the road ahead as he backed out of the driveway. “She’s good.”

You didn’t push. You let the silence stretch as the perfect little houses blurred past the window, his jaw clenched tight enough you thought it might crack. You rested your hand lightly on the console between you, close enough for him to reach for, but far enough he wouldn’t feel pressured. He didn’t say another word until they’d left the neighborhood entirely, the towering homes shrinking behind you like they’d never existed at all.

+++

You’re not sure what convinced you to come back. Maybe it was the way Tryst’s eyes stayed distant for the rest of the weekend, his usual quiet slipping into something heavier, like the weight of that driveway still clung to him. Maybe it was how he didn’t mention Hope again. Not once, even though you caught him scrolling through old photos when he thought you weren’t looking. The way his thumb hovered over the screen, his jaw tight, his face unreadable.

Whatever the reason, by Wednesday afternoon, you were parked outside that same house, rehearsing words that now felt flimsy and foolish. You’d practiced every sentence, every soft approach, every carefully balanced phrase meant to sound non-threatening, understanding, but the second your knuckles rapped against the glossy navy door, your brain emptied like a sink drain.

It swung open a moment later. A tall man with graying hair and kind eyes answered, dressed neatly in a navy sweater and jeans that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. His expression was polite but guarded. “Can I help you?”

You opened your mouth and nothing. Every carefully chosen word you’d repeated during the drive over evaporated. “I’m a… I’m…” You faltered, nerves bubbling up as your fingers twisted in the hem of your sleeve. Then, a nervous chuckle slipped past your lips. “Sorry. God, I had this whole speech planned.”

The man’s brows lifted, his lips curling with faint amusement. “Don’t worry,” he offered, that guarded edge softening just slightly.

You cleared your throat, steadying yourself. “I’m a friend of Tryst’s,” you explained, finally finding your footing, even as the air between you shifted. His smile dimmed, his posture tensing just enough to notice. “I was hoping to talk to your daughter… about their child.”

The words sounded heavier out loud than they did in your head. You braced for a door slammed in your face, for clipped excuses or cold dismissal. But to your surprise, neither came.

“I know Tryst can come speak to you himself,” you added quickly, your voice steady but low. “But I just… I thought maybe it’d mean something different, coming from someone else. Someone not caught in the middle.”

The man studied you for a long, quiet moment. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but eventually, his shoulders eased, and he stepped aside, holding the door wider.

“Come on in,” he said simply.

The inside of the house was exactly what you expected. Immaculate, with gleaming hardwood floors, crown molding along the ceilings, and the faint scent of expensive candles lingering in the air. You followed him down a short hallway, heart pounding against your ribs.

“Tea?” the man offered, already halfway to the sleek, open kitchen that gleamed with marble countertops and stainless-steel appliances.

You shook your head, hands clasped politely in front of you. “No, thank you.”

Truthfully, your stomach was twisting too tight to keep anything down. Your throat felt dry, but the idea of lingering longer than necessary didn’t sit right with you either. You hovered awkwardly near the entryway until he gestured toward the living room with a nod, and you finally forced yourself to settle onto the couch.

The cushions sank beneath your weight, soft and expensive, too expensive. The pale fabric looked freshly cleaned, probably some delicate linen or wool blend you couldn’t pronounce, and the sheer thought of what this couch likely cost made your palms sweat. You curled your feet beneath you, tucking your muddy shoes as far away from the pristine rug as possible, though you were sure the soles had already tracked something over it. The rug alone probably cost more than your entire bedroom set. Maybe your entire apartment.

You glanced around, taking in the framed photos along the built-in shelves, the tasteful art, the neat stacks of hardcover books arranged just so. Everything screamed order. Wealth. Control. It only made your nerves buzz louder beneath your skin.

Footsteps padded softly down the hall, and you turned toward them just as she appeared.

Natalie.

You recognized her immediately despite the more casual clothes, a pair of fitted jeans, and a soft cream sweater. Her hair was swept up into a bun, and she balanced Hope on her hip with ease, the little girl perched there like she’d belonged no place else her entire life.

Hope was smaller than you imagined, all chubby cheeks and tiny fists, her pink socks mismatched in that way only toddlers managed. Her little hand lifted in an unsteady wave, fingers splaying before curling back toward her palm.

“Hi,” you breathed, voice gentling despite the nerves still coiled tight beneath your ribs.

The first thing you noticed, aside from how shockingly much she looked like Natalie, was her eyes. Blue. Wide. Curious. You knew those eyes. Hope might’ve been a carbon copy of her mother, with the same soft features, same delicate nose, same brown curls already starting to frame her face, but those eyes were Tryst’s, through and through. Unmistakable.

Natalie’s expression stayed unreadable, her grip steady on Hope’s waist. There was no warmth, no hostility either, just caution. You could feel her assessing you the same way her father had, weighing your presence like a threat she wasn’t sure how to categorize yet.

But Hope wiggled in her mother’s hold and offered another tiny wave, her lips pulling into a shy, toothy grin. You smiled back, pulse fluttering, wondering how the hell you were supposed to get through this without falling apart. Natalie's mother handed Hope a little stuffed duck, holding the poor thing tightly in her arms.

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over your thighs.

“First off,” you began, voice steady but gentle, “Tryst can advocate for himself. Fully. He knows what he wants, and he knows what he needs to do to get it.”

Natalie’s lips tightened just a bit, bracing for the rest.

You shook your head, holding her gaze.

“But he won’t,” you continued, “not out of respect for you and your family. He doesn’t want to push, or guilt anyone, or make this harder than it already is. He’d rather suffer quietly than do anything that might upset Hope’s routine.”

The silence was heavy, broken only by the little girl’s gurgling laugh as she squeezed her duck tighter.

“He’s trying so hard,” you added, heart aching as you thought of Tryst’s tears over Hope when you weren't looking. “And he’s terrified of messing up. He just wants… a chance.”

Natalie shifted Hope to her other hip, glancing down at her daughter’s happy face, then back to you.

“I’m not here to demand anything,” you said. “I just… I thought you deserved to hear how hard he’s been working. And how much he loves her.”

Hope, oblivious, squealed again, delighted with her duck's floppy feet, one dangling lower than the other.

You smiled, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat.

“I’m not asking for an overnight stay or anything crazy,” you continued, voice calm and reasonable. “Just… invite him inside. Let him spend some time with her that isn’t an awkward exchange in the driveway.”

Natalie shifted again, biting at her lip. Her mother looked skeptical, but she didn’t interrupt.

“Tryst has been showing up, every single time,” you said softly. “He stands there in the cold, in the rain, in whatever, just to see her for five minutes. And he never asks for more than you’re comfortable with. I think you know that.”

Natalie looked away for a second, hugging Hope a little tighter, but you could see she was listening. Really listening.

“He’s done a lot of work,” you added, keeping your tone measured. “Therapy, parenting classes, everything they asked him to do. I’m not saying he’s perfect, but… he’s trying. And it’s killing him to feel like he’s still on the outside.”

Hope, oblivious to the tension, looked between you and her mom, eyes sparkling, that same wide grin on her face. She giggled again, kicking her feet in the air.

You couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Just an hour,” you offered, as gently as you could. “Inside. Where he can see how she plays, how she eats. Where he can be a dad, even for a little while.”

Natalie’s shoulders slumped, her face caught somewhere between exhaustion and emotion. You could see how hard this was for her too. A war where she was protecting Hope, protecting herself, protecting what was left of her own peace. Finally, she looked you straight in the eye. Hope babbled again, completely unaware of how important this moment was, her tiny hand reaching toward her mother’s necklace and tugging gently. Natalie sighed, smoothing a hand over her daughter’s hair.

Natalie’s parents shared a look, something long and silent passing between them before her father finally spoke up.

“It’s Natalie’s decision,” he said, voice low but even.

Her mother nodded, though her arms were still crossed protectively. “Whatever she feels is best.”

You watched Natalie’s eyes, saw the whole debate play out there. The fear, the worry, the tiny flicker of longing that maybe, just maybe, Hope could know her father without getting hurt.

You shifted uncomfortably on the couch, feeling like you’d intruded on something sacred.

“Look, I’m… I’m sorry,” you murmured, swallowing the guilt that had been rising since you walked through the door. “I shouldn’t have put this on you. You’ve already got enough to think about. This conversation-” you gestured faintly at the room, at Natalie’s guarded expression, “-it never had to happen. It shouldn’t have been me.”

You stood up, smoothing the front of your shirt, trying to gather what was left of your courage. “I just… wanted to try.”

Natalie didn’t say anything, still working through that impossible tug-of-war in her mind.

You nodded to her parents in quiet respect, took one more look at Hope, who was now twisting in her mother’s arms, trying to spot you over her shoulder.

You turned to go, feet heavy on the hardwood floor, heart hammering in your chest.

But as you reached the entryway, Hope let out a high-pitched, garbled shout. “Bah-bah!”

You paused, turning back, and saw her waving her tiny hand, a giant, toothy grin on her face.

Your chest tightened as you lifted your own hand to wave back, a small smile breaking through despite everything.

For just a split second, you met Natalie’s eyes. There was a glimmer there, something softer, something that maybe, with time, might shift toward yes.

You held that moment close as you stepped outside into the cool afternoon air, letting the door click shut behind you.

The drive home felt heavy, every mile weighed down by that conversation, by the look in Natalie’s eyes that wouldn’t leave you alone. When you finally stepped inside, the apartment smelled faintly of popcorn.

Tryst was on the couch, head tipped back, remote clutched loosely in his hand like he might change the channel if he could find the energy. He looked so different now than when you’d first met him. Then, he was a live wire on the edge of a breakdown, pounding down Red Bulls like they were water, twitchy and sleepless, half-crazed with fear and regret.

Now he was calmer, more centered, even if exhaustion still clung to him like a second skin.

You walked over and pressed a long, gentle kiss to his forehead, breathing him in, letting his familiar scent ground you. He barely stirred, just cracked one bleary eye and tried to smile.

“Hey,” you murmured, brushing a hand through his hair.

He made a soft, content hum in reply, half-asleep already.

“I’m gonna start on dinner,” you told him quietly, not expecting an answer. You stepped away before he could ask where you’d been, praying he never would. That conversation at Natalie’s house was yours to carry alone. A kindness, you decided, one less weight on his back.

That weekend, you found yourself riding shotgun again, hands twisting together as you watched him in the rearview mirror while he walked up to Natalie’s house. This time, you stayed in the car, window cracked, ears straining to catch every word through the glass.

You could see how hard he was trying not to fidget, keeping his shoulders steady, his voice even. Natalie was there, Hope on her hip, that same soft duck clutched tight.

Natalie took a breath and asked, “Do you want to hold her?”

You saw it instantly, how the question hit him like a lightning bolt. The grocery bag in his hand nearly slipped to the ground, and he scrambled to set it down carefully before he could even answer.

“Yeah,” he breathed, voice cracking, nodding so fast you were afraid his neck might snap.

Natalie passed Hope over, slow and cautious, and Tryst gathered her against his chest like she was made of spun glass. You could see every muscle in his body tense with awe and terror and love, all at once.

Hope reached up, tiny fingers grabbing at the scruff on his jaw, babbling something that made him laugh, a sound so unguarded you felt it down to your bones.

From the car, you watched as he whispered something to her, his forehead pressed gently against her soft hair.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Tryst looked like he could breathe.

[xheykyjx]

irl story

so. this is heavily inspired by something that happened to me recently. even just thinking about it lowkey makes me feel some type of way, i'm not gonna lie😭

tw for depictions of nausea ahead, under the cut!! 🫶

"i don't fucking care," you're saying, laughing in spite of your words. beside you, your crush is sheepishly holding a dinner menu. the two of you had run a few errands together the other day, and on the way back to your dorm you'd stopped at a drive-thru, where your crush had paid for your food. now, you're out for dinner with them and a handful of other friends, and it's the perfect opportunity for you to pay them back.

"i feel bad," your crush whines, hitting you with some pretty strong puppy-dog eyes. "i was kidding when i asked you to pay for me."

"well, i'm not," you tell them decisively, and you quickly tell the waiter both of your orders: food for you, and food for your crush. they thank you, smiling sweetly, and dinner carries on. the food is delivered eventually and everyone is happy with what they ordered. out of the corner of your eye, you notice that your crush is eating with gusto, spooning bite after bite into their mouth with barely a second between. but they're a pretty big eater, and—at the end of the day—they are an adult. so you say nothing.

fast forward to the end of the meal—the bill has been split evenly (except for you and your crush, of course, because you paid for theirs before they could argue any more about it) and you're all leaving the restaurant. as you step outside, your crush says, sort of casually, "i think i might've ate too much." immediately you're blushing, trying not to squirm or stare as you laugh teasingly. your crush giggles too, and one of your friends makes a quip about them having a rock in their stomach. as you walk through the parking lot, it's impossible not to notice their hand on their belly.

your group came in two cars, so you all bid each other farewell and pile into your respective vehicles. you're sitting in the passenger seat and your crush is sitting in the back, right behind you. it's a short drive back home, but you keep your eyes and ears peeled anyway, waiting for some kind of indicator that your crush is in more discomfort than they'd initially let on. but the ride is largely uneventful, and you're all dropped off outside your building.

as you make for the doors, your crush lags slightly behind you. you almost think it's your imagination when you hear the tiniest burp—this tight, uncomfortable sound that you would've otherwise missed had there been any other noise happening around you. steadfastly, you say nothing. what's there to say, anyway?

you pull open the door and your crush walks through. you're walking up the first flight of stairs when they say, "i'm kinda—i'm kinda nauseous, i think." and—there's no way this is real, but it is—as they're speaking, their throat tightens around a gag, voice going low and tense as they fight off the urge to retch. you're both alarmed and incredibly turned on, and by the time you've made it to the landing they're hiccuping out a genuine gag—it's small but wet, gurgling just slightly in the bottom of their throat. your heart starts pounding.

"dude," you say, laughing nervously, hoping your arousal isn't obvious. "don't tell me you're actually gonna puke." you could almost wish it in your head: please puke please puke please puke, but you quash that train of thought before it fully starts. now is not the time.

"um—" your crush swallows, and you finally let yourself take a good, long look at their face. they aren't especially pale or sweaty, and there's good humor written all over their expression, but there's a touch of nerves there, too. and the fist near their mouth isn't helping matters, either.

[lotus-pear]

rewatched madoka magica again today bc i fucking hate myself and to absolutely no one’s surprise i went through all five stages of grief in a single evening

[larkwinged]

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒 𝐅. 、𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

PROFILE. a self-righteous knight who is too willing to throw their life away, and too eager to charge into battle. underneath their stubborn exterior, they are riddled with the pressure of upholding a family title that has long been lost to time.

FULL NAME. artemis elise fröhlich

PRONOUNS. they / them

GENDER. fem-presenting non-binary

AGE. early twenties

HEIGHT. 5”1

BIRTHDAY. november 12th

OCCUPATION. knight

AFFILIATION. knights of favonius

ELEMENT. pyro

CONSTELLATION. columba bellicosi

WEAPON TYPE. sword — “herald of the dawn”

Now stripped of its original purpose as a vessel to store all the memories of an ancient god king, this sword has been passed down in the Fröhlich family since the dawn of time.

Once wielded by the god of memories herself, this sword was blessed by the winds and presented as a gift to her youngest child upon the morn of their knighting ceremony.

“You, who represent the grace and bravery of humanity,” said the Queen, “take this and go. Become a pillar of hope to those wallowing in the darkness, and guide the lost onto a chivalrous path. You, the Dovewing Knight.”

And so, the first Dovewing Knight set out, protecting the people of Cairnfelle and standing tall as a beacon of hope, just as they were requested.

At the edge of the world, when the brilliance of Cairnfelle collapsed and the mountains crumbled, the sword found its way tumbling back into the hands of its previous owner to defend her honor, and upkeep her legacy until the final trumpet sang … announcing her defeat.

With no definite home, the sword lay in the ruins of its kin, preserved well by the Anemo Archon and his will — until the day it found its way into the waiting hands of the inheritor of an ancient title.

• demo music concepts. one two three

• ENG voice claim : keath ósk as cole seymour from yaelokre’s “meadowlark” project

• JP voice claim : marina inoue as armin arlert from attack on titan

CHARACTER STORY 1: eastward of eden

It is true that Artemis has long held resentment towards their older sister and past caretaker, Lilith. As a child, Artemis was refused of many things — including choosing their own clothes, partaking in certain activities, and having their own privacy. There wasn’t much they were allowed to do, and even the hobbies they enjoyed ended up ruined by Lilith’s excitement and pushy nature.

To this day, Lilith is unaware of the mental anguish she caused her siblings over the course of their entire childhood. However, in her own eyes, she has done no such thing, and has succeeded at being a “mother.”

Many citizens have told her, “My, you exercise much control over them,” and yet, she has failed to see the error in her ways. It is not entirely her fault, as she was forced into the role of a mother when she wasn’t ready for such a task. Even though she failed in many aspects of her parenting skills, there was one thing she has always truly succeeded at: caring deeply for her family.

However, no amount of love could undo the years of fighting and hurtful words thrown around between the siblings.

CHARACTER STORY 2: legacy

Long ago, in the days of yore, the archaic land of Mondstadt had been ruled by a monarch older than Decarabian. Her rule was rumored to last longer than his, and her birth is now nothing but scattered fragments along the wind.

When the Queen of the North Wind descended and claimed Mondstadt as her home, a mighty kingdom formed under her feet. Small huts grew to larger, firmer homes, and gargantuan cathedrals made of marble were erected in her honor. Trumpets blew, the wind howled, snow fell, and mountains as high as the heavens towered above humanity.

In later years, the prospering kingdom of Cairnfelle was officially born. Serving as a haven for travelers and poets alike, the kingdom sang with energy as it thrived under Queen Catalina’s guiding hand. The god of memories was exceptionally gentle, with a kind and compassionate heart that moved even the most stoic-faced men to tears. Her words were wise, her complexion glowing, and her promises true.

Cairnfelle, as much as it prospered, gained an enemy from a distant land. With no choice but to face the beast she prodded, the Queen set out to befriend the raging phoenix that had enough of her games. Ever the charming soul, the Queen did not have to do much to make the phoenix bow to her every whim, and before the citizens of Cairnfelle had the chance to acclimate to the visitor, the two were to be wed.

There is not much to say for the years in between the joining of two god kings and the fall of Cairnfelle, but this: Four inexplicably brave and virtuous souls were born from the two gods — four demigod knights who carved the way for the future of Mondstadt: The Four Archangels.

The Blair Family — the origin of the Fröhlichs, is no longer the raging flame of life it had once been, but a snuffed out ember of its former glory.

Only in passing on the titles of the Four Archangel Knights can the present day Fröhlich family hold tight to what was once a name feared and adored by all.

CHARACTER STORY 3: composition

Many questions have arisen over the years; all pertaining to a certain facet of Artemis’ composition.

“Is it a curse?” They’ve inquired, only to wind up receiving a simple, “I’m not even sure myself!”

However, that it is a small white lie they’ve grown to tell. In fact, Artemis is very much aware of the reason why they consistently find themselves on the brink of death and luckily make it out alive. It is because of the unique composition their ancestor, Lowen, was made of: pure and unbridled wrath.

The story goes as such: In the days of yore, when gods and monsters still yet walked the earth, a beast born of flame and rage took flight. They seared their enemies and allies alike, and roused the hearts of warriors all across Natlan. They utterly refused to lay their past life to rest. In doing so, they made a promise to their newfound family. The wrath that lived inside them was nothing but a blessing, and deserved to be passed on through their children, and future generations. And so, the endless wrath that boiled in their veins was passed on — consuming the lives of their children, and overtaking the brilliant flames that became their descendants.

To be a god’s descendant has always been an honor in the Fröhlich family line… Yet, Artemis — like the direct children of the god of wrath — see it as naught but a curse; For what blessing could bring about destruction and the devastation of any living being in one’s wake.

VISION STORY:

The blistering pyro vision attached to Artemis’ belt was said to be a gift from the gods, and maybe even a gift from the long gone god of wrath themselves.

What else are visions besides gifts from the gods? A tool to wield, and yet another curse Artemis must deal with.

At the young age of eleven, Artemis was sent out on their first escorting mission. It was their first mission given to them by Grand Master Varka, who was elated to test their strength and endurance. Not many were willing to accept an escort from a child — as was the case with the Fontainian aristocrat Artemis was talking their ear off to. However, the man said nothing, as the child’s directional skills were second to none. It was only when they hit a bump in the road that the man questioned Artemis’ capabilities as a knight.

“I should’ve known better than to trust a child!” He yelled, waving his fist in the air as he pushed them aside and ran off ahead by himself in the rain, leaving the young Artemis to fend for themselves amidst a hoard of abyssal monsters.

Although panic was steadily rising throughout their body, they forced themself forward — slashing at every monster with a shaky grip on their sword. The rain poured, sagging their clothes, and dragging their arms down to the dirt. The grip on their sword slipped, as did their footing, and they tumbled to the hard ground with a rough clash.

Their shoulder-piece scratched the bridge of their nose on the way down, and a thick line of blood began to spill from the open wound. A rifthound drew closer, baring its teeth and snapping its jaw as its claws outstretched, striking Artemis across the head. A clap of thunder sounded, and amidst the ringing in their ears, Artemis felt the weight of ten large wooden planks collapse on their back.

Even so, they shakily grabbed their sword, their nails digging into the wet earth, and began to stand. Their blood boiled as a wrath they were only warned about once crept up to the surface, prickling along their skin until it caved inwards, tugging at their ribcage and burning against their racing heart.

In a flash of white and gold, the hoard of rifthounds lay motionless on the grass, their bodies turning to dust as Artemis panted heavily. The wrath inside their veins bubbled, and their vision turned red. It was all consuming. It was destructive, and it was total annihilation. They struck down every monster seeping from an abyssal pylon until finally, they tore the pylon in half with nothing but their blade and their bare hands.

The rain continued to fall as they dropped their sword and collapsed to the ground in a heap of sore limbs and bloodied grass. Their eyes fell close for a moment — at least, what felt like a moment — and when they opened, a shining vision sat amongst the pool of blood left behind by their foes.

Indeed. The god of wrath, whose curse ran rampant in their veins, rewarded them with yet another “gift.”

𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀

• hobbies: When they are home in Dornman Port enjoying their days off, they like to wind down by practicing the art of crochet. Not only is it soothing to sit by a windowsill while the afternoon breeze filters into their bedroom, it is also a hobby their late mother held dear. By partaking in this hobby, they feel closer to their mother, and can preserve her memory longer. Another hobby is sports. Artemis can often be found playing with the kids in the port during vacations.

• beliefs: The Fröhlich family have always dedicated their lives to the protection of Mondstadt, and hold a firm worship to a god king who has long been dead. Although they have accepted Barbatos as their new savior, they still hold their original god close to their hearts. Artemis has naturally followed this belief and considers their worship of the god of memories their religion. During rough times, they find solace in a temple far north and meditate there for as long as they deem necessary. Once a month, they offer up a few of their most important memories— a ritual that has been passed down in the Fröhlich family for over 3000 years.

(This act of offering up memories is akin to the way some worshippers will offer animal sacrifices to the god they serve.)

• about — fate: Artemis is a firm believer that fate will guide the worthy and ultimately lead everyone onto the path they are destined to walk. However, they do not include the meddling of gods and higher beings into this equation. They believe that fate is its own entity and not dictated by the Archons nor Celestia. It acts of its own accord, and the gods are mere victims of fate, as well. Not even Celestia will be spared.

• about — death: Artemis believes that death is a stepping stone to a greater afterlife. Akin to their many family members, they believe that life is temporary, and death is eternal. When one dies, they are not truly dead; for they are shedding their mortal shell and accepting their true form, which is the soul. The soul will live on forever in the afterlife, while the physical body is nothing more than a temporary shell to house said soul. With this belief, the Fröhlich family does not fear death, but welcomes it with open arms— greeting it like an old friend.

[dukeofthomas]

I can't find it now but there's a post about suspension of disbelief and how it's broken when the story starts trying to excuse it. "character gets knocked unconscious for hours but there's no further issues from this" okay 👍 "and actually this makes perfect sense because of this and that" um no it doesn't why are you lying to me. like i am willing to ignore the holes and the discrepancies!! all you need to do is let me and not bring unnecessary attention to it!!!

and all that is my issue with the whole robin child soldier argument. like i am willing to ignore it i am willing to engage with the fantasy literally all you need to do is NOT try to convince me that Actually It's Fine Because They Want To Do It or whatever. like literally just shut up about it and i can engage with the fantasy!!

[silverwhittlingknife]

hi Silver! o/ because that fanart made me wonder - would you happen to know when/where Dick's stuffed elephant plush Zitka turns up in the comics?

GREETINGS CAM <3333 THAT ART WAS SO CUTE

Yeah, I think your instincts are right - it's a truly adorable bit of transformative fandom, but I'm 95% percent sure it's not comics canon. Barbara has canon plushies, but I don't think anyone else does.

I got kinda invested in the investigation (it's hard to prove a negative!) and I ended up typing out an entire History of Elinore/Zitka, so, uh, if you're curious, meet me below the cut for:

Where does Elinore / Zitka - the animal - appear in comics?

Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?

Where does Elinore / Zitka appear in comics?

We're gonna go in chronological order!

Dick's circus elephant friend was first created for practical reasons: in Batman 436, Marv Wolfman does a big expanded flashback to Dick's circus backstory as a way to subtly show us Tim before officially introducing him (so that we can have a technically-solvable mystery-of-Tim's-identity in LPoD). In this comic, there's an elephant named Elinore who loves Dick:

Aww. Such a cute elephant!

Batman 436 comes out in August 1989. New Titans 60 comes out a few months later, in November, and guess what? When Dick visits the circus, he is suddenly surprised by an unexpected blast from the past! It turns out that even though it's been years, Elinore still remembers him!

Here's the part where Elinore remembers Dick:

SUCH a cute elephant. I love her.

(Guess who else still remembers Dick even though it was so long ago. Guess which other character is about to be an unexpected blast from the past. Guess which character Elinore is directly paralleling guess guess guess sorry everything is about Dick and Tim in my mind but I can focus I swear)

Four years later, in 1993, Batman: The Animated Series retells Dick's origin story. They like and keep Wolfman's elephant, but they change her name to Zitka:

Wolfman doesn't return to the elephant beyond those two appearances, and a few years down the line, New Titans gets cancelled and Wolfman's not writing Dick anymore anyway. So the animal gets abandoned for a while, until Devin Grayson, a fan of both Wolfman and B:tAS, revives the Wolfman-era Titans team in JLA/Titans and then the ongoing series Titans 1999.

Grayson then brings back the elephant in a flashback to Dick's past in Titans 16 (Jun 2000), where she imports the B:tAS name. Sometimes I'm skeptical of TV-to-comics imports, but honestly, I endorse this one. You lose the alliteration, which is a shame, but IMO Zitka is a better elephant name than Elinore.

Here's Dick with the newly-christened Zitka in Titans 16:

Grayson also briefly references the elephant in Gotham Knights 20 and - in a final angsty callback - in Nightwing 88 (Feb 2004), where Zitka tries futilely to comfort Dick in the midst of his trauma conga line:

... And... honestly, I think that's it for comic appearances? The two Wolfman comics plus the three Grayson comics.

Both Wolfman and Grayson are writing multiple titles - Batman, New Titans, Titans, Gotham Knights, and Nightwing between the two of them, spanning a big chunk of Dick's post-Crisis canon - and both writers use the elephant for heartwarming moments of nostalgia, which means if you're doing a post-Crisis readthrough for Dick, Elinore/Zitka feels memorable. But I don't think she actually shows up that much.

For post-2011, I am not as well-informed - throwing this out to the dash? anyone know? - but I feel like Zitka the heartwarming symbol of Dick's heartwarming circus past is, uh, thematically very at odds with the Court of Owls evil!circus vibes, so my instinct is that this story element was almost certainly dropped in the reboot.

Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?

In WFA, yes; in main comics continuity, no. Technically, I have not read every comic ever published, so I could be wrong!! But I don't think so.

Below, find my rambling reasoning on the tonal vibes of pre-Crisis, post-Crisis, and post-2011, and why this particular story element doesn't seem right to me for the first two.

Pre-Crisis (...okay, mostly the Silver Age): stuffed animal, yes or no?

tl;dr no, requires too much background knowledge on the part of the reader, plus the elephant wasn't a thing until later

Elinore doesn't get created until post-Crisis, but also just generally, pre-Crisis callbacks are more along the lines of this reference in Batman 129 (published in 1960), where, wow, Batman and Robin are hunting jewel thieves - and it turns out Robin recognized this strongman! BUT HOW?!

The comic goes on to recap Dick's entire origin story in flashback, on the assumption that you may not know it.

(BTW, if you'd like to know more about Haly's Circus throughout the years, nightwingology has a great post here summarizing a lot of fun plotlines and characters!)

Basically: Silver Age comics are very self-consciously episodic and kid-friendly; they're not generally gonna do overly-elaborate callbacks because they don't know what comics their kid readers may have randomly picked up or remember.

By the time of post-Crisis, comic books were being written for an adult audience buying from the direct market, i.e. readers who are collecting whole runs & don't need or want Dick's origin story to be recapped to us in full every time it's referenced. That's why in post-Crisis, we get stuff like "hey, neat, this particular soda brand is getting mentioned in several different books!!" or "in order to understand this story arc, buy SIXTEEN DIFFERENT COMICS in FIVE DIFFERENT RUNS and read them ALL ACCORDING TO A NUMBERED ORDER and also you better be following the individual plotlines and recognize these five minor characters who we don't bother to introduce!! Good luck!!" But the elaborate post-Crisis plotlines - and subtler worldbuilding like a stuffed animal callback to Dick's backstory - don't make a lot of story sense UNLESS you're imagining your readers as completionist adult fans.

So IMO a stuffed animal wouldn't be a pre-Crisis thing unless it was The Episodic Story Of the Week, and I don't think a stuffed animal is action-adventure-y enough for the fast-paced storytelling of the Silver Age. (Unless it, like, came to life and tried to eat you or something.)

Post-Crisis: stuffed animals, yes or no?

tl;dr: no, Dick's a manly tough guy, he's not gonna have a stuffed animal, that'd be lame, like something Tim might do

Part of the edgy grimdark adult vibes in 80s/90s comics is that some characters who used to be kinda silly & goofy & lighthearted - like Batman and Robin - get reimagined as Serious and Angsty and Edgy in a Tough Cool Manly Brooding Way. This massively affects characterization for Bruce, Dick, and Bruce and Dick's relationship.

(I obviously love this change & love the tense Bruce-and-Dick interactions, but plenty of fans of the earlier fluffy comics really disliked the edgy retcons of Miller / Wolfman / Starlin / et al.)

The upshot is that post-Crisis is a period when you could have a recurring reference like a stuffed elephant, but you wouldn't have a stuffed elephant, not for Dick. I think a toy like that would be too cutesy / childish / effeminate to give a male character in post-Crisis, unless you were poking fun at him.

Now, you could probably let Tim have a stuffed animal, because Tim is sometimes cool but also sometimes a tryhard loser who is faking being cool and not entirely pulling it off (see e.g. the Robin comic where he practices tough-guy faces in the mirror, or the Teen Titans comic where Conner discovers his cringy Enya CD, or when he's fanboying over Connor and it's awkward, etc etc.). A stuffed animal would be deeply embarrassing, and you'd have to be careful to compensate by having Tim do something cool afterward - but Tim's character concept allows for "he's kind of a loser sometimes."

But Dick isn't!! In post-Crisis, Dick's a tough / impressive / "cool guy" character, the kind of guy anyone would want to be, even in the flashbacks where he's Robin, and even in the stories where he's more lighthearted than angsty. It'd be kinda lame for Dick to have a stuffed elephant, so he wouldn't. I feel like Dick would be more likely to poke fun at it if someone had one, like when he's making fun of Wally for liking the Hardy Boys. Dick could have a Batman action figure, at most, and if he had one he would have it ironically.

Basically: in post-Crisis, a male character hugging a stuffed elephant feels more likely to be a punchline to me, not something poignant. (Even with Tim, Tim could have an embarrassing stuffed animal, but he couldn't hug it when sad - that's too far. Maybe Booster Gold might do this. Probably he wouldn't, but spiritually, he would. Sorry Booster ilu! <3)

Instead, Dick instinctively deals with his inner turmoil like the TORTURED ACTION HERO he is: by punching things and brooding and yelling and joining the mob and sleeping on rooftops and going on obsessive secret missions and acquiring Angsty Stubble!! Just like Batman!

(Technically I don't know if Bruce ever joined the mob but you know he would.)

Anyway as you know this is my favorite continuity and I am poking fun affectionately, but uh, yeah sdfsfdsfs. No stuffed animals.

Post-2011 / Infinite Frontier / Wayne Family Adventures: stuffed animals, yes or no?

tl;dr it's in WFA! Probably not anywhere else, but it could be.

Post-2011 stuff tends to be cutesier overall, most of all in the current Infinite Frontier era. So I don't feel like this would be tonally out-of-line with IF comics. Taylor tends to go for more meme-y references rather than fanfic references, though.

So the obvious best fit is WFA, which is aiming for a rough approximation of Silver Age family-friendly vibes - wholesome, episodic plots, Teaching Good Moral Lessons For The Youth, etc. - plus lots of Easter eggs for fanfic readers and some comic references.

And look, here we are:

Aww.

Whew - that's everything I could find!

Anyway as you can probably tell, I LOVE the elephant, so this was a very entertaining rabbit hole to go down, thank you <3

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

what are your ships for the dancestors? or do you not have any cause they all are kinda horrible for each other

all current ships need to BREAK UP

and then we can start with latula <> porrim and meenah <> cronus lol

[demodraws0606]

The way people talk about Tsukasa makes me want to murder people /neg

Somehow just because Tsukasa attracted the attention of the younger fanbase, people just have found themselves allowing to dunk on his fanbase because "how dare these 12 year old misinterpret a character that I don't even personally like".

Because yeah it's almost like young people can identify a darker part of a character but overexagerate it because the part that discerns nuance isn't even fucking developped yet. Or you know maybe it's just fun making angst, maybe they're just venting through Tsukasa ?

And somehow these people making angst are somehow more wrong than the people who just act as though Tsukasa is like the happiest guy ever with the least amount of struggles (because how dare he be happy, the only way a person can be struggling is if they're miserable 24/7).

Like it's wild it's somehow the same thing that happened to Sans, it's as though people don't realize that making a character have less problem than in canon is just as much of a misinterpretation than the opposite, you're not smarter for it.

No genuinely what's wrong with people, every other male oc fans get to do whatever and somehow Tsukasa fans are the ones that only enjoy his character cause he's a "dude".

I'm a Rui fan but it makes 0 sense to me how much of us just get away with more because ig it's more acceptable to make angst of rui ????

Like people say "wow people exagerate Tsukasa's backstory so muchh lol", like ok here are the multiple instances of Tsukasa flashbacks :

-Dazzling Lights

-Tenma mixed event

-Colorfes card

-Vocaloid World Link

Wow, yeah really short and rare Tsukasa flashbacks yeah....

And also people acting as though he was fine being alone at home are just straight up lying, like that is a lie the game literally tells you he's not fine blatantly in Dazzling Lights. And if you somehow needed more proof you can dig through the vocaloid world link, his colorfes card or even fucking side card stories.

There's no reason to talk about Tsukasa fans and how exagerated Tsukasa angst is i'm sorry, you're just being a bully and passive agressive to fans who want to have fun. The only time it's worth while to dunk on them is for ableism which IS a problem with Tsukasa fans.

Obviously I'm not gonna police you into what you should talk about but I just think it's really obnoxious and just kinda has been worsening the toxicity of this already radioactive fandom.

Also don't take anything in this post too personally this is just like a scream into the void about this fandom's behavior around Tsukasa.

I'm talking about this also because I literally saw firsthand how just kinda mean people are to others who just have fun.

[sieglinde-freud]

oh im obsessed with this actually… who ever wrote this one i am kissing u on the forehead and hugging you real tight… inigo is such a loverboy im kkkhhhhhhijnsdnfng

[skitskatdacat63]

"From triumph to failure is but one step."

+ the usual

I love when I can include paper sketches in the process gif. It's very satisfying to see it progress from a very vague imagining of what was in my head to the finished project.

+ version without text

My favorite sketch was definitely the one where I actually put in words what it's supposed to convey. I wouldn't usually write that down, cause it's all in my head, but it was useful to do so when sending it to other people. I'll go into it more but here it is just as a teaser:

Lmao first of all, I like how I was teasing "Spanish GP" art, but as per usual, it's just thinly veiled au art. IM SORRY, I'M NOT INTERESTED IN MAKING GENERAL POSTERS, THAT'S NO FUN! So instead you will get weirdly relevant matador au art. I like it a lot though, I was really shocked I was able to draw 3 different Fernandos, I mean even drawing one figure takes a lot out of me, but this was weirdly easy?? I think it's just the effect of not being burnt out anymore, and actually being able to draw with more ease makes me feel like a god.

Okay, so the text: "Fight or Flight?" I'll be honest, I don't even remember why I chose it, literally came to me in a vision 😭 But I think it's fitting with the narrative of this piece. Is it better to keep going on, keep fighting, or better to finally give up, and flee? Not that I even remotely think he should give up, but I feel like sometimes I can sense him pondering this very question. That was the big fear before he announced that he re-signed. Keep fighting and maybe, just maybe, you'll get the chance to finally go up against the bull again. Or accept it's an uphill battle and the fighting is going to keep getting more and more strenous, and maybe it's time to put down the sword. SORRY THIS IS SO ANGSTY FOR WHAT'S SUPPOSED TO BE "yayyyy home race!!!" Please forgive me <3

I. Renault

At some point, someone pointed out to me that I had drawn all other iterations of matador Fernando with a sword, except for Renault Fernando, and that ended up feeling very poignant to me. In a bull fighting match, they really only pull out the sword at the last minute to deliver the killing blow. So I think it's important to never draw this Fernando with a sword, because it shows the unfailing confidence and stability he has at that point. He only needs to pull out the sword at the end, as a formality almost, there's no reason for him to keep his guard up at all times.

II. Ferrari

Meanwhile this Fernando, he's considering his sword like he hasn't had to in the past. He's checking the sharpness, making sure in advance he can do what needs to be done. He's on guard, he feels like he needs to keep up his defenses at all times because he doesn't have that same amount of trust and stability anymore. He knows though he will be up against the (red) bull, at least that's never in question. At least there's the assurance he'll get the chance to fight.

III. Aston

Oh, Aston Fernando....He doesn't know whether to take up his sword or finally put it down for the last time. While at least Ferrari Fernando knows he's on constant guard against the bull, this Fernando doesn't even have that assurance anymore. He feels like he can never put down the sword, just in case he gets the chance to strike the killing blow on the bull, which feels like it's growing more and more unlikely.

Spanish flag: ? Lmao this was meant to be something to celebrate Fernando's home race and it turned very introspective whoops. Also got the Napoleon quote in there hahaha, can't escape it!! Shame though there is no French gp anymore, if so I'd probably draw an unhinged thing for it :,(

[lucyshypemaster]

you will NEVER see anyone writing paragraphs after paragraphs hating on keefe like they do with sophie.

[dark-blue-piss]

Also i watched Only Friends and like, it was far better than I expected lmao, I just expected something very messy and like not very good but still entertaining, and I was actually so into it! Like ofc it's a lot of drama and things are indeed messy but it's not badly done idk, I think the dialoguzs were nice, the characters made sense (more or less) and idk they seemed fleshed out. I really liked the different interactions with the characters and stuff idk. idk how to explain