#no literally her weapon is a baseball bat and baseballs))

[chillin-at-partys-bar]

((Okay so i also made Cherise on the Sims. We've got her normal outfit, her post-breakup appearance (seen more often than one would expect), and her outfit when she gets to get fancy

[ambivalentmarvel]

just went through the main azula tags i have to write more wtr the economy is in fucking shambles

[dollsanddandy]

Sorry I just need to type this out because it feels so perfect if this was the intention. Baseball represents conformity… but what about our most iconic Stranger Things baseball bat?

Let’s talk about this particular bat’s journey, shall we?

Our first scene with the bat is when Nancy is practicing to attack the Demogorgon in her garage. At this point in the story, the bat is still a regular baseball bat. Steve comes over and Nancy is still emotionally invested in him. She has not quite realized she is on the path of conformity. She pushes him away here, though. She has plans with Jonathan to find the monster, so she takes a rain check at the invitation to go to the movies under the guise of Will’s funeral and Mike. I would argue this is at the beginning of the bat’s transformation.

The bat was originally meant to be wielded by Nancy. The revolver was also supposed to be Jonathan’s weapon. However, upon learning that Nancy’s a sharpshooter, Nancy takes the revolver and Jonathan takes the bat. They have swapped roles. This is when she’s finally begun not to conform. Nancy has taken the more “masculine,” powerful role in this relationship. She wields the stronger weapon and thus takes the lead in their relationship. During this scene we learn that Nancy believes her parents to be the image of conformity, detesting the idea of ever becoming them.

While wandering through the woods, the two have an argument in which Nancy finally has to confront that she is conforming just as much as her parents did at her age. She’s no different and she needs to realize that she and Steve are the image of Ted and Karen. The bat remains in Jonathan’s hands.

The two once more swap roles upon finding the dying deer. The two decide to put the animal out of its misery, but it’s too much for Nancy to handle and thus Jonathan offers to do it himself. They swap weapons once more. You could interpret it two ways:

Their willingness to swap their roles fluidly offers more to the idea of nonconformity. They are not concrete in the roles they choose, unlike the societally acceptable dynamics of the time. Men and women had concrete gender roles and were expected to follow them, whereas Jonathan and Nancy are able to go against that norm and be what role is needed depending on the situation.

Jancy are willing to do what the other needs from them and are already complementing each other from Season 1. Jancy endgame.

After this scene Nancy and Jonathan split up, with Nancy discovering a small gate to the Upside Down. She leaves the bat and her belongings outside the gate. I would like to say that her going to the Upside Down is quite literal for her character and for the baseball bat. Their identities are changed after this. Nancy from this point forward becomes incredibly tactical and combative. She goes shopping for weapons with Jonathan, definitely going against the norm. Her form does not change, she remains herself, preppy and kind, but now she has spikes. In her next scene with Steve she’s angry, she’s pushing him away and recognizing him for what he is. She could have been submissive to Steve’s actions, but the first thing she does is slap him and assert herself. She is no longer conforming.

While we do not see the baseball bat for the rest of the episode or in the following episode, we do see it again in the finale.

Here we see the baseball bat change into our easily recognizable icon. Together, Jancy decides to kill the Demogorgon and hatches a plan to do so. They set everything up in the Byers’ home and during these preparations we see Jonathan modify the baseball bat. He hammers nails into the head of the bat and it transforms almost to match Nancy. Baseball bats are a blunt object, but by adding the nails, Jonathan has flipped the baseball bat’s identity Upside Down, transforming it into a sharp object. It can be argued it’s both blunt and sharp, and maybe it proves the point I am trying to make further by viewing it that way. Jonathan is meant to wield this weapon once more, but Steve enters the ring and wields it instead (more on that later).

By the finale you’re almost certain that Jancy will happen (if not now then later). Jancy is a heterosexual relationship, but it is not heteronormative. To me, that’s what the bat represents. The bat is conformity, the norm and heterosexuality, but the spikes represent non-comforming and non-heteronormative behavior. In Jancy’s relationship, Nancy typically takes the lead and continues to be the one who wields a gun. Jonathan remains the more sensitive of the two and the one who wields no weapons (you could argue the axe in Season 3, but even then Lucas takes control of that). The behavior of Jonathan and Nancy in their relationship as stated prior, is not conforming to the norms of the time despite being a heterosexual relationship.

Now, what happens to the bat after the events of Season 1? Steve continues to be the one who wields it, which is very important to his character development. He’s becoming nonconformist as well, especially with his blossoming friendship with the kids and his new role as “babysitter,” a job that is considered feminine. During his time holding the bat, I would also like to mention he most certainly became more accepting of people different from him and even befriends them. He went from calling Jonathan Byers a queer derogatorily in Season 1 to being supportive and accepting of Robin’s sexuality in Season 3. He learns that popularity is not important despite what societal pressures and expectations exist. It’s almost like the bat being in his possession helped to facilitate his growth.

After Season 2 we have yet to see the bat again, but an honorable mention would also be Max, a nonconformist tomboy, wielding the bat. She does this to defend her nerdy, outcast friends and her love interest: Lucas. Max and Lucas are another heterosexual relationship, except they also defy norms for being an interracial relationship in a time period where it was still not as acceptable.

TL;DR: the spiked baseball bat is a symbol of nonconformity/norms of the time being flipped Upside Down/on their heads as opposed to baseball in general representing conformity. It transformed in Season 1 with Jancy to become this symbol and in Season 2 facilitated growth/was wielded by characters who didn’t conform.

Hope you guys enjoyed this post please don’t let it flop 😭

[xo2dee]

NOW LOADING. .

DMC MASTERLIST

AMBROSIAL

PAIRING: Vergil x (Fem)Reader WARNINGS: Slight sexual tension sooo MDNI/18+ only. WORD COUNT: 4676 SUMMARY: He didn't even like strawberries. He just liked to piss you off.

A/N: first ever fic i ever posted on ao3 which is nuts. vergil brainrot never dies.

If you were to look back on yourself years ago, the thought of your current position in life sounded preposterous. A fairy-tale, fantasy even. Who in their right mind would take up demon-slaying as their primary job?

You, apparently.

Four years beforehand was the beginning: you had set out, armed with a baseball bat as ghoulish creatures had raided your hometown. You were a newbie, so incredibly under-prepared, and came out of that fight wounded and traumatized, but ultimately victorious. It was a start, no one was ever perfect as a beginner, you made mistakes, but weeks later you made your mind up and decided you wanted to kill these monsters for they did to your home and all those people. After all, it was the least you could in honor of their memory and for your guilt in surviving.

You could remember the ache in your back from being hunched over your computer looking up workout routines, the pain of ice-filled baths to relieve your soreness from pulling muscles after strenuous workouts and fights, and the scars on your body throbbing from one too many near-fatal fights with demons. You were human, painfully human, you had realized that particular notion after nearly breaking your hand socking a demon in the jaw. It was then that you realized you couldn't fight hand-to-hand combat with some demons (why did you even try anyway?) and you needed a weapon, one that was not a baseball or an axe that was on its last life. You needed a gun.

There you met her. Nico. 

Two and a half years into your self-employment, Nico came speeding into your life. Literally, she almost ran you over.

You had to explain yourself that no, you were not a demon, you were just a carrying carcass because it was a good alternate to weight-lifting because you didn't have any weights. She had looked at you like you were stupid, eyes squinting and cigarette ash falling from the smoke in-between her lips and onto the road before asking, "You a demon hunter?"

Well, you didn't necessary call yourself that, but, whatever, you told her yes.

Nico grinned after that and introduced herself, telling you that you were lucky for her bumping into you. You wouldn't necessarily call that 'bumping into you' and how you were lucky from almost being flattened like a cartoon character on the side of the road? You had not one clue, but you took her word for it in the end. 

Through her you met Nero, a young man – you had believed he was an old man at first because of his hair, to which he got fussy about while Nico was hysterical in the background – and learned that he too was a demon hunter, a rather good one at that; miles better than you. Of course, the glowing claw-tipped arm told you there was more to him than you knew, but you didn't push it, not when he convinced Nico to make you a weapon so you didn't look like a Neanderthal running around with a wooden baseball beating demons with it. 

"It'll cost ya, I don't just do handouts," she had told you, blowing cigarette smoke into your face. A test you presumed.

Nero looked ready to interject at that, but you spoke up before another loud argument broke out while fanning away the smoke.

"I'll pay you anything you want."

Nero looked at you like you had just sold your soul – you probably did – while Nico smiled and stubbed her cigarette out with the tip of her boot. "I always knew I liked you."

She had made you a bayonet, a gorgeous onyx one held that objective affection towards. You had thanked her, giving a hefty amount of cash and practically skipped off ready to use your new baby. However, you were not a good shot since you almost shot Nero in the head – more times than you would like to admit. 

That's when you met him. Dante, the Legendary Demon Hunter – though he didn't like to go by that, Nico called him that albeit never even meeting the man. And your teacher you guessed, not like he did any teaching standing off to the side occasionally throwing jokes at you and trying to hold his laughter back when you missed a target by a couple of feet. But still, he meant well. 

Nero had practically held you by your scruff in front of Dante like some lost puppy and told him everything he knew about you, up to how shitty of a shooter you were, but were able to wrestle demons down in a fight. The aged man scratched the scruff adorning his chin and looked you up and down before sighing.

"Okay, but I can't pay ya."

What was with these people and money? Dante didn't pay you, and Nico would sometimes charge out the ass. Of course, you later learned Dante didn't pay you not because he was Eugene Krabs incarnate, but because he literally had no money and was in debt. You wondered if he even paid taxes.

(Though coming to find out Dante's true agenda behind being in debt – aside from the mountainous supply of pizza and booze he spent it on – you didn't bring it up, opting to keep your thoughts and mouth to yourself and just taking your duct of the pay from Morrison, Lady or Trish when you had the chance.) 

Your 'demon hunter' status was well-off after that, you had teammates – meeting your favorites: Lady and Trish – your skills only increased, and you were basically employed at Devil May Cry. Life was fine until a giant fucking tree sprouted out of the ground in Red Grave City, and it was your hometown incident all over again. Dante, Lady, and Trish had went missing in May of that year leaving you with Nico and Nero, as well as the odd new member V, and his talking pet demon Griffon. You did not converse with him that well, he was quiet and you appreciated that since you often had to hear Nero and Nico's arguments, or worse, Dante's and Lady's. Still, you remained polite to him as long as he was to you, perhaps that's why you felt a little melancholic when he never returned after leaving with Dante and Nero that one time only a month after knowing him. Maybe you were sad at the thought that he died, given Nero and Nico had made a companion out of him and you were feeling sympathetic for them.

Then again, maybe you were sad for Nero since his father was apparently V, but was not V, ripped his arm off, was the reason behind the Qliphoth, fought his own father, then watched as his father and his uncle jumped into Hell to stop the roots from the tree from spreading any further out of the city. You had blinked when he relayed it all to Nico and you, astonished he seemed happier. You supposed it was understandable, he had found out that he did have family left (sometimes you had wondered if Dante was his father given the striking similarities and the relationship between them) and his arm... grew back. You didn't question it when you watched him later on pull out an old book with a V engraved on the front and flip through the pages with a ghost of small smile on his lips. If Nero was content, then all your complaints dissolved. 

You weren't exactly so content cleaning up someone else's mess, but you reminded yourself that you wished someone had done it for you back then. As well having Morrison technically being your boss for the time being, you had to listen to him and take jobs from him. 

It was months later when Dante came back, appearing in the middle of Devil May Cry through a random portal. You expected nothing less from someone like him, yet you still remained apprehensive scowling at the azure rift breaking reality. Out of it sooner than you expected came Dante, swaggering while looking like he never wanted to do it again and –

Who was that?

"Babe! Didn't expect to see you here, you been keeping the place clean for me?" Dante started out, walking towards you with his arms spread. It almost looked like he was going in for a hug, yet you knew Dante wasn't exactly the type for physical contact and your expression probably wasn't the most welcoming then. You didn't know if it was from your frazzled mask or him just being him, but he stopped mere feet away from you, holding up his hands in mock surrender as you regarded, "Relax, it's just me and Verg."

'Verg'. Vergil. It was him, Nero's father and Dante's elder twin. It was the first time you had laid eyes on him, though you listened to him and untensed. You took that time to not so discreetly take in the new face in front of you. 

And boy, was he a sight. 

The genes that ran in the family of Sparda must've been something other-worldly (literally). You can see the similarities in the twins: their hair the same shade, yet they both opted for a different approach on how they styled it with nearly the same type of face structure and same color in their eyes – however a different type of glint and feeling in them. They were of the same height, yet it looked like the eldest was a tad taller and you weren't too sure if it was due to his hair perhaps the boots he was wearing. Their choice of wear completely differed too, much in the sense of the colors they wore and the amount of skin they were willing to show; whereas Dante donned a regular Henley shirt with the beginnings of his chest exposed, his brother dressed himself completely covered in an odd vest, you didn't know where he had gotten, with the zipper all the way up to his chin with the only skin showing being his face and parts of his hands and fingers. Other than that, they seemed to like the leather pants combo too and it was easy to tell they were brothers. 

You didn't miss Dante's red coat, and Vergil's blue one. 

Truly the same blood, but completely different people. 

You were still staring at him, perhaps like a little too long than you would've liked to have admitted, but you were having trouble wrapping your brain around the fact you were in the presence of the man that ripped your friend's arm who was also his dad, who also caused Qliphoth rising and then jumped into Hell and was back with his brother, who seemed to have settled that... 'difference' he had with him enough to bring him back to Devil May Cry...

You stared, mastering a poker face through years of being alone. 

He stood rigidly in the middle of the room as if he was a statue, a white-knuckled grip on his sword with stiff shoulders as he eyed the room warily before landing on you. He looked down at you with a furrowed brow and a scowl like you were bug he was ready to step on. His presence was so... icy compared to Dante feeling so warm. They truly were polar opposites; the Red Oni and the Blue Oni. As you stared the more handsome he got and you could see how he was able to father a child – a child who looked so much like him, it was uncanny. Then he opened his mouth.

"What are you looking at?”

Why were you not surprised?

You did not like him. His voice fit him perfectly; so cold, and just so Vergil. It was slightly nasally and not like the husky tones of Dante's, but you knew his voice could instill fear into grown men and anyone else. However, you were not swayed, instead overcome with the backhand of his attitude.

Dante put up a hand before you could open your mouth and fire off a retort. Vergil wasn't even asking, it felt more like a demand to know why you were blatantly ogling him. You didn't answer, only throwing back an attitude with a tsk! and whipping your head around from his smartass. He didn't retaliate, stepping away from the scene and dismissing you like you were still nothing more than little bug underneath his boot. You had watched him walk away, glaring at the back of his head through the sides of your eyes. Dante, meanwhile, only laughed patting your shoulder looking a little too happy.

"I think you'll get along just great."

You did not get along 'just great'.

After that, it was a series of events...

Once you decided to be courteous for Dante and take his laundry with yours, to which Vergil all but dumped his dirty ass clothes on you as well. Literally, he just dropped them in your arms and you had struggled to catch them (why did you anyway?).

You had glared, fingers gripping the insanely nice fabric of his coat as he stood but two feet away from you, "Why should I?"

Vergil had the nerve to look down at you again, features as stunning as ever in the low light of the shop and his expression betraying nothing but that stoic exterior he was known for, yet you saw a minimal raise to one of his eyebrows, "Are you not offering?"

"I'm offering Dante."

"Then your common courtesy is a lie?"

He really had a retort for everything, didn't he? You scowled at him and pinched his coat between your fingers, "That's rich coming from you... but sure," you stuffed it down into the basket, balling it up extra measure to piss him off, "Anything for you, your Highnass."

You didn't give him time to reply, walking out with as much dignity as you could knowing you had given in and were going to do his laundry. Though he didn't know you kept his coat longer in the dryer to absorb as much static as it could, and you balled it up again to get as many wrinkles as you could in it. 

(You were sure he knew though, if that Stanley Kubrick stare you got returning it was anything to abide by.)

As you left, you could hear Dante sigh.

"Have you ever heard of please? And have you ever actually talked to a woman before?"

There was another time you were just standing next to him, then suddenly your cheek was squished up against his bicep and body nearly compressed under his weight as he slammed you both into a nearby wall. You didn't think that perhaps he was shielding you from the rampant rage of a demon, more annoyed with the fact your bruised nose was getting the horribly intoxicating scent of his cologne, or whatever it was, and you could feel the disturbing way his lean body molded into your own.

"...Vergil."

All you got was a slight tilt of his head. 

"Get your big ass off of me."

That got you the frosty glare you had been waiting for, the silvery tint in his eyes not something you were unfamiliar with or afraid to look into it. Vergil regarded you for but a few short moments, eyes darting around every inch of your face before quietly speaking, "I expected a thanks, not an insult for saving your frail self."

'Frail'? Whatever, you weren't about to argue with him thinking you were a dainty daffodil. He had eventually lifted off of you after you vouched out you had to pee because he was pressing on your bladder, the man looking – dare you say it – embarrassed over it as well.

Afterwards, it was another of Dante’s input.

“I need you to tell me how you had Nero, because this is just sad.”

It was a constant back and forth, though the times you randomly turned around and Vergil was just glaring at you nearly looking like he wanted to combust were the oddest of his vampire-like behavior. You figured perhaps he was plotting your demise, though it started getting weird whenever you turned around and he was inches from your face.

You didn’t like to think too hard about those.

Whether it was awkward van rides with you staring at him seeing if you could piss him off, him taking away a demon kill from you at the last second, you 'forgetting' to wash his laundry, him spreading out on the couch in the world's biggest man-spread so you had no place to sit, it was a constant back and forth. Or perhaps it was present time with the matter at hands.

Kyrie had brought her famous strawberry pie because she knew it was your favorite, and you had stashed the piece in the fridge for later time only for the next current day it to be gone. You confronted Dante about the matter ready to scold him when he you he hadn’t been around to even know you had any (and pouted you didn’t share), and then suggested Vergil did it. You didn't believe it, sure you two had... whatever going on, but you knew that as half-demons the twins did not have to eat human food; Dante only did so to keep in touch with his human side and probably because he missed his mother's cooking at times. Vergil, however, you never saw eat once, practically wrinkling and up-turning his nose whenever Dante brought back pizza or strawberry sundaes, so you assumed it had been Dante who ate your beloved pie and didn't want to admit to not hear your nagging. 

Though Dante had listened to your reasoning and told you something that surprised you given Vergil's... tastes.

"True, he doesn't like strawberry-flavored things. I think he likes chocolate."

Of course he liked chocolate, perhaps bitter and dark like him. 

Vergil would not eat your pie. 

Or so you thought until he and you were sitting across from each other at Devil May Cry at that moment. When you caught his eye, you watched morbidly curious as he bore his silvery eyes into yours and ran his thumb across his plump bottom lip until you could see the crumb of red he purposefully left for you to see. He ate it. He ate your fucking pie out of sheer pettiness.

He didn't even like strawberries. He just liked to piss you off.

(Didn't your mother tell you that boys picking on you meant they liked you?

Still... you didn't think that applied to forty-year old half-demons with stick up their asses.)

You could not stand him, you hated him and his handsome face and his stupid lips. You don't know how many times you envisioned stepping on his stupid coat and watching him trip and fall flat on his face, or just tackling him into the ground in a fury, or just fighting him, or just kissing him –

You swallowed at that last thought, raising your gaze from his titled lips to lidded eyes. Teasing. 

You never had a problem with looking him dead in the eye before, yet there was something brewing in-between that nearly had you sweating as you looked at him then. Since when where you shy?

Looking at Vergil then though... you weren't sure if you wanted to body slam him... or kiss him. Or both in that order.

So you did. You don't know what possessed you, whether it was his expression taunting you or the overwhelming urge to get rid of whatever the feeling was inside you, you shot up determined, marched over and tackled him into the couch. It was not necessarily a body slam like you wanted, but the giddy feeling you got watching his eyes widening a fraction and that barely concealed grunt he let out when you straddled him and pushed him down into the cushions was worth it. You felt yourself grow embarrassed at that point and uneasy as well. Vergil not throwing you across the room was one thing, but being able to straddle him and have him on his back was another thing altogether. Still, planting a kiss on those lips...

"Why are you making that face?" he asked once you finally looked him in the eye. He look unamused at a first glance, but close enough something was dancing in his pupils.

You knew you were embarrassed from the heat you felt on your cheeks. What face were you making? Did you look constipated? Whatever, you pushed it away and tightened your thighs against his waist and gripped his shoulders harder, reveling in watching his eyes flick downwards for a mere moment. You inhaled, hoping your voice didn't come out as unsteady as your body and mind felt. 

"You ate my pie."

"All this over a slice of a dessert."

"You did it on purpose because you knew it was mine."

"I didn't see your name on it."

"You don't even like strawberries."

"And how would you know that?"

"Because."

"As I said, perhaps you should leave your name on things if they are yours."

"That's rich coming from the one who has their initial on their own little diary."

Vergil's eyes narrowed, "That 'diary' is a book of poetry, not that your narrow-minded self would know anything about." That hit a nerve.

"I want my pie, you ass."

"How am I supposed to give you 'your pie' if I have already ate it?"

Why did he look so smug? You trailed your eyes from his long lashes, to the slope of his nose, to his prominent cupid's bow before finally landing on his lips. You remembered the crumb he swiped away realizing he had only ate the pie just prior beforehand, he purposefully took it out of the fridge and let it sit until he knew you would be back and he ate it just before you returned, He ate it just to see you squirm. The sneaky, plotting, petty, handsome bastard...

You attention was roused back to him when he spoke again, saying your name, "I asked you a question: How are you supposed to get your pie if I have already ate it?" Vergil had caught you staring at his lips you realized. He was staring at yours now and unabashedly rolling his eyes down your body. It was an inquiry, wondering if you were going to do it. If you had the gall to. He knew what thoughts were brewing in your mind just by the look in your eyes and the flux in your body temperature. You made up your mind then, scooting up to sit on his abdomen and slapping your hands on either side of his face. You wanted your pie, so you were going to get a taste of it at least. 

"Fine."

Your spine bending awkwardly at that angle reminded you once again the times you spent hunched over your computer, but the dull ache didn't compare to what Vergil's lips felt like. They were partly chapped, but you didn't mind, not when he was already opening his mouth for an invitation for you to get a taste. So you did just that, pushing your tongue through to explore his mouth for the fruitiness of your lost pie. He did taste like Kyrie's famous strawberry pie, but somehow it tasted better once it was on his tongue. He made a noise underneath you and maneuvered his hands to touch you, one gripping your hip fingers digging into your shirt and the other curled around the back of your neck to pull you further into him. You felt dreamy melting into him and moving your lips along his, you only failed to realize how incredibly sloppy your kissing was when Vergil pulled your neck back to speak against your lips.

"You are atrocious at that." Well, you can tell now given the saliva glistening on his lips. "Are you trying to devour me?"

You hummed, pushing your body down to lay atop his, "I don't think you can talk big when you don't know how to kiss either."

"Mmmm," you've never heard that noise before and it sent a flutter straight to your lower abdomen. Vergil moved the hand resting at the back of your neck, brushing fingers across your cheek to grip your face tilting forward until your lips touched again.

Compared to you basically drooling into his mouth in a needy make-out session, the kiss he left on you was chaste and so longing. It felt sweet. You wanted more as molded his lips onto your top lip, leaving you at the expense of his buxom bottom lip. You had wanted this so bad and all you could do was grip the lapels of his coat and drown yourself into Vergil's kiss. It was over far too soon than you wanted, which was why you chased after him when he parted away from you looking all too pleased with himself again. "I don't know how to kiss, yet here you are chasing after me again whining for another."

You groaned and hid your face in his chest again knowing that he had won. Again.

Vergil: 6

You: 2

Not that you ever won against his wittiness in the first place. Yet this time you felt you had won something big. 

Vergil did have a son, so maybe you were wrong about his skills in kissing. 

The moment was interrupted when the doors to the shop busted open and the owner waltzed in acting like he wasn't outside the door listening.

"OH – whoops, didn't realize you two were busy canoodling," Dante's tone sounded all too amused as he covered his eyes with hand, yet created a space in his fingers so he could peak at you both, "I'll just be on my way. Give you some privacy. Be safe though we don't need a repeat    "

"Dante."

You had shot up back into a sitting position on Vergil when Dante burst into the shop, hoping to show the red-wearing twin that no, you two were not doing what he thought and almost countered saying you were both just wrestling, but that sounded even worse somehow. Vergil had hissed out his name sending a scathing side-eye towards his brother and you prayed they didn't breakout into another 'argument'. 'Arguments' being full-blown fights, whether it be with swords or just throwing hands at each other over the stupidest reasons. You had walked into their fights on more than one occasion, always giving a dry look towards them when Dante would usually explain that Vergil got mad he called his hair ugly or something. You almost rolled your eyes again, Grown ass men.

Dante held up his hands, one hand holding a pizza box, "Okay, sheesh, don't get your panties in a bunch, Verg. You should be worrying about hers."

"Leave us!"

The remaining effort it took for him to leave was the blue spectral sword that he ducked for before laughing and disappearing upstairs. You watched the summoning sword pierce the wall before dragging your eyes back to Vergil, who was already looking at you. "You're both annoying."

He glowered again, "You are infuriating and a maddening being. A witch."

"That's a new one. Are you saying I bewitched the mighty Vergil."

"Hardly."

"Okay, Verg."

His eye twitched at the crude nickname before pulling you back down onto him by your elbows, you had a clear message of what he wanted by the way his eyes were half-lidded and hands ghosting over your back.

You gave him a cheeky grin basking in the satisfaction of his brow twitching in annoyance at it, "You trying swap spit again?"

"You are disgusting."

You hardly took the insult to heart when his lips slowly pressed against yours again and you sighed dreamily into his mouth.  

You suppose you could forgive him for the pie if you got that in return.

[internetgiraffekid1673]

Bring Back the Bombshells Batgirls!

In helping a friend of mine map out who all has been Batgirl across various DC continuities, I remembered a little jaunt to TVtropes where it mentioned that in a charming little number called Bombshells, the batgirl identity is shared by a baseball team.

This reminded me to actually go READ Bombshells, and oh. My. GOSH. It is the BEST FUCKING THING EVER!

What is Bombshells?

Basically, almost every male superhero got yeeted from the story or relegated to side character/civilian, while every female superhero takes the spotlight and gets to KICK SOME NAZI ASS (it's set during world war 2). Plenty of people get spotlight, but I'm gonna argue that the MAIN characters are probably Kate Kane's batwoman, Diana of Themyscira's Wonder Woman, Mera's Aquawoman (she hates that name, lol), Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, Zatanna, and Kara Starikov's Supergirl. All the storylines tend to revolve around them.

Oh, also it's super gay. Like, every single character is a lesbian or bi, there's tons of ladies kissing and dating and having implied sex, and at least one character---one of the batgirls actually---is trans.

In summary, go read bombshells it's really good, but today I'm here to specifically talk about:

The Batgirls (and boys)

"One for the ribbon, two for the pearls! Three for the crimefighting---

So first off, Bombshells is an elseworld, so it can do whatever the fuck it wants with backstories and shit.

Subsequently; this version of Kate Kane is a major league baseball player, and her Batwoman costume is literally just a pallet swap of her baseball costume (plenty of people figure out her "secret" identity because of this, but she's not super concerned about it). She uses an actual bat as her main weapon as Batwoman, and it kicks ass. More fanfic writers, and hell, comics writers need to hand the Batfamily some baseball bats, because it gives us scenes like this:

Or this:

(Yes her bat has a gun, it's supplied by Amanda Waller through goverment money, don't question it. Her baseballs are also explosives).

Oh, and also this:

Anyway, point is, Batwoman has a bat and it's great. But this means when Gotham's bat-weilding protector gets drafted into the Bombshells to go fight Nazi's, some new faces have to pick up the slack in Gotham.

And so:

Inspired by their vigilante/baseball hero, Harper Row, Kathy Duquesne, and Nell Little pick up some bats of their own and start busting up crime! The three of them are mechanics, that old car is their batmobile, and they're the best of friends!

Of this original trio, Kathy is "the brass" or the leader, and she remains nominally in charge through the whole thing. Nell is "the brawn" and while every batgirl is good in a fight, Nell is a bit of a demolition specialist. Finally you have Harper, "the brain" who invents their gadgets, works on their batmobile, and also jokes that she's the mascot, as this whole thing was her idea.

They don't stay a trio for very long though! They're quickly joined by "the beauty" Alysia Yeoh, an old friend of Kathy's, in an effort to break Cullen Row out of a prison-like orphanage (she's the t-girl btw):

You may notice another girl crouched in the corner up there too! That's Bette Kane, Kate's niece and the rightful owner of Kane Industries who will forcibly take it over, clean it up, and use it for good on her 18th birthday in like a week!

In the meantime though, she heard about the batgirls and decided she wanted in! She crashes their jailbreak and helps them wreck shop! She mostly shares the "brass" role with Kathy---a leader in her own right.

Anyway, their now quintet quickly finds the awful headmistress of the Pinkney orphanage berating one Tim Drake, who still has a living dad somewhere, but was snatched up by a dirty cop because this whole city runs on Newsies rules (not even kidding, I'll get there in a sec). Turns out Tim and Alysia are old best friends. Anyway, Tim fills them in on the sitch: the headmisstress has been using the orphans as slave labor to build war robots for the nazis.

The batgirls (now including Tim!), bust up the basement and the robots, free all the orphanage kids, including Cullen, toss the awful headmistress and the dirty cop helping her to one Detectice Maggie Sawyer---Kate's wife---and the day is saved!

In the subsequent week, Bette takes over Kane Industries, starts funneling funds into housing for immigrants and refugees and relief and aid and all that good stuff, and also recruits the final batgirl of the team: Felicity Smoak (the chick in braids)! Thus we have a full team!

Who's who in the alt text

I'm only halfway through Bombshells, but the batgirls and their adventures are a recurring plot thread, since protecting Gotham is entirely up to them while Kate is away. They gain lots of other allies and enemies (including one hispanic immigrant Lois Lane who does straight up help them pull a newsies and make their own newspaper with the real news in it at one point), and their sections are probably one of my favorite parts about the comic. It just feels so sweet and high school, while still feeling Batman-esque/Gotham-typical.

Why You Should Care:

Now. I may only be halfway through Bombshells, but I am in LOVE. With the story and the characterizations and everything!!! And the batgirls are a personal fave of mine cuz I'm a sucker for found family and teens fighting crime and bat-weilding superheroes!

But my point is: for all that fanfic loves these tropes too, there is NO fanfiction for them (or at least not on ao3). There's practically nothing for the Bombshells continuity PERIOD, which is a shame, but also to be expected for an elseworld.

But that's why I'm here and telling you about it!

You guys! This is fanfiction! We love flinging the batfamily through alternate universes and making lots of different characters take on the familiar Batgirl and Robin roles!

Why not bring forth the Bombshells Batgirls?

If you're writing your own elseworld, I suggest you nab this adorable team, or something like it! If you're writing an alt universe crossover, feature these guys!

They are the Batfamily found family you want! They CALL THEMSELVES a Bat-family! They all move in together! They loooooovvveee each other! And, as is the nature of the Batgirl mantle, they do what they do largely as independent operatives without adult supervision!

I would really love to see these guys yeeted into an alternate universe and have to cope with just HOW different their continuity is. Not only will they inevitably be flung way into the future, since they're around in the 40s, but in most continuities they're completely unconnected from each other and are absolutely not a team of bat-weilding crime fighters! It would be so baffling for any mainline batgirl and robin to meet a team that is so disconnected from them and so unconditionally supportive of each other and so Badass Adorable!

In Summary:

I may have lost the plot a little with this, but my points are:

Bombshells is really good and you should all go read it

Bombshells has a team of adorable bat-weilding batgirls that has all the found family crime fighting tropes you could want without the bad blood of the mainline batfam

More people should write fanfiction for Bombshells

The Bombshells!Batgirls in particular I think are a great place to start with that. Nab the premise of a baseball team being crime fighters, or Gotham being protected by a group of scrappy children whenever the big bad vigilantes are away, or give these colorful kids their Bombshells!backstories.

Also use the Bombshells universe in particular when you're flinging bats across the multiverse. Yeet these babies into a mainline comics verse and let the juxtaposition and chaos run WILD! There's a million and one of these fics for the Young Justice cartoon, I know ya'll can do it for Bombshells

Also. Take every opportunity to give your Batfamily, and your Batgirls in particular, an actual bat. It'll be so much fun, I promise

Anyway, I'll probably be back with another Bombshells rant later, PEACE!

[chocostrwberry]

Hiya! I have some headcanons for your chocoau:

- Redeemed Chloé and Mylène became friends because both of them are big theatre/movie nerds;

- Purple Tigress' signature weapon is a baseball bat that she loves to swing on her enemies;

- Marc is Marinette's cousin on whom she tested her designs. In one of Marinette's dresses, Marc goes on his date with Nathaniel;

- Felix has an obsession with boybands such as NSYNC, Westlife, and Backstreet Boys. Adrien and Nino are falling from laughing when Felix sings "I Want It That Way" with his Cockney accent;

- Sabrina has good sight, but she wears glasses because Chloé, a fashion guru she is, says that glasses would look great on Brina.

RAAAAH THESE ARE SO PERFECTTT!! 🌈🌈

I raise you this:

Sabrina needing glasses but gets contacts instead because Chloe says her eyes are too pretty to hide behind glasses

FELIX BELTING THE SONG WITH HIS WHOLE HEART DEAD SERIOUS bc he resonates with boy bands but literally no one can take it seriously

Mylène giving Redeemed Chloe all the leads bc she admires how great an actress she is (everyone knows she’s right but are still salty)

[ornii]

Greetings,could i request Lucy Maclean x Male reader?,Thanks

Funny enough I was gonna do a short series on it anyway. Cause God Damn Ella Purcell takes the cake in beauty. So here’s—

The Wasteland Love Guide #1

Part 1: The Couriers Eye

Love, Betrayal, and tale as old as time.

Dim lit, you awoke in the rank scent of a sewer. The cold concrete against your back you felt a beating pain in your face. You sat up, the beating pain was too much to bear and you felt your face, and you felt, something in your.. eye. “Fuck..” you mumbled, pushing yourself up you looked around, it was too dim to make out anything specific, adding blindness only made it worse.

You literally had to shake off the potential concussion and walked along the concrete wall to a large exit, stumbling out you felt sand in your palms and and fingernails. Stumbling out into the sandy beach you looked around for any form of help. It was nearly endless sand, besides a few rundown houses. You walk your way towards it, trying to remember the last day of your life to recall what Happened, but nothing came to mind. Pushing a door open into a rundown place you spotted a furnace. Somehow the water was running.

You cleaned up your face and painfully washed the blood off your face. Breaking up old floorboards and wood you tossed it into the furnace to start a fire. Giving you minimal light you checked your body for any open wounds or cuts. None you can see thankfully. Sitting down near the fire you calm yourself and relax, and try to sleep off the pain. Nightmares echo and scream in your head, and in the last moments of your nightmare, you could remember one face.

Moldaver.

Your eyes open to a face, of a woman trying to see if you were still alive, panic kicks in and you push her away and reached for a weapon, a baseball bat. You cocked back and gripped the handle ready to swing, before you could, the barrel of a syringe gun was right at your neck. You had no idea just what it could have and taking the risk of acid or drugs shot into you would be bad. The moment was silent, only the cracking fire illuminating both of you. You clenched the bats grip hard, and you spoke sternly.

“I don’t have anything you want… why are you here?” You asked.

“I just wanted to see if you were alive. You, don’t look so good.” She responded, you noticed what she was wearing, a vault suit. It’s a dumb question but it was the only question you could muster. “You a vault dweller?” You said in disbelief, she dusts herself off, and actually stood up to shake your hand.

“Yes! I’m Lucy.” She smiled, you still in disbelief and probably losing blood, slowly put the bat down and shook her hand. “Are you here alone? I just need help looking for my Father.”

“Why are you.. telling me all this? I can’t even think straight.” You sit back down, holding your head.

“It’s probably hard to think straight with metal in your eye.” She said, and knelt down in front of you.

“You seem a bit, hurt.. but you also know your way around the place. I can help you with your eye if you can help me.” Lucy offered a deal you probably don’t have the luxury to deny. “Fine..” you relented. “How bad is it?” You asked her, Lucy leaned in to look at your eye, you saw her made a face that you didn’t particularly like.

“What?” You said.

“Damage mostly to the eye itself, your cornea is probably intact!” She said with hope for whatever reason, “thanks? Can you just take the metal out?” You replied. Lucy nods and begins to unravel her pack of shit she had. Small tweezers and bandage gauze. What proceeded was pain beyond belief as you tried to keep your eye open as Lucy, as gently as possible pulled shrapnel from it.

“MOTHER OF—“ you catch yourself before you can scream and bite your tongue.

“Sorry! Medical wasn’t my best, mine are nothing compared to my dad.” She drones on, and as the pain slowly began to subside you were interested. “You know… I always thought Vault dwellers were nutjubs for running into a hole in the ground but, fuck maybe I was wrong.” You admit, Lucy finishes your operation and patches your eye with gauze. “Our Mission is to repopulate the United States of course, it’s what we’re all supposed to do, to be a part of a better tomorrow.” Lucy said it as if it’s some slogan.

“Right..” you shrugged. And put the eyepatch on, but it’s just makeshift string with a patch of cloth. “I gotta ask you… besides wanting to find your dad, why help me? People don’t do this in the wasteland.”

“Well because it’s the Golden Rule.” She smiles, which made you, somehow happy. You smiled, but gave her a bit of brutal honesty. “You seem like a nice lady.”

“Why thank you—“

“So you’ll die a very horrible death.” You add in, and she tries to stay positive but looks a bit stunned by it. “Being a good person is gonna get you killed. The Wasteland doesn’t abide by the “Golden Rule” you aren’t gonna survive out there.” You warned her, but that dumbfounded look on her face.

“I really appreciate your concern for me, but I can’t.. a group of raiders went to our vault and, did a lot of bad things, I have to get my dad back.”

“A group of raiders… to our vault.. bad things.” You quickly came to the realization of just what happened. It seems That she went with the plan. You saw the hopeful look in Lucy’s eyes and, it made you feel hope in a world full of such evil. Were you, falling in love? Or is this her Lady Killer perk activating. You smiled, and hit your Idiot Savant perk and nodded.

“I’d be a real bastard if I just let you deal with all of this alone. Mind if I tag along?” You said, Lucy happily obliges.

“Of course! The more the merrier as they say!” Lucy turns and walks off, you shake your head and smile, following her.

“She’s gonna get herself killed.”

[duchessonfire]

Savior Carl!AU re-read Part 1 Chapter 1

In honor of the Savior Carl!AU celebrating its fourth birthday this week (on Thursday 9th to be precise), I'm re-reading the whole series with a running commentary for anyone who might be interested in it. If you're not interested and don't want to have your dashboard spammed, you can block the tags Duchess reads and Savior Carl AU reread.

Commentary for Part 1, Ch 1 below the cut (spoilers for part 1 ahead):

First of all, it always blows my mind that I never realized the first thing Negan says to Carl in the Savior AU is... that he finds Carl hot. I wish I was kidding but this is literally what Negan says to Shane when he offers himself and Carl as Saviors:

"Hey, no offense, big guy. That's a good looking kid you have here, must take after his mama, that's all."

Like... That man noticed Carl the second he laid eyes on him. Iconic. And as if that wasn't enough, Negan throws in another compliment about Carl's eyes:

"Same goes for you, kid, if you don't want Lucille to bash your head in, eyes first. She likes ‘em baby blues, and you're just her favorite shade."

Jesus, Negan, just go down on one knee and propose, why don't you.

Something that's also hitting me as I'm re-reading the chapter is how frayed Carl and Shane's relationship already is when the story starts:

As Carl lies on his bare mattress in the Saviors' compound, Shane sleeping soundlessly on the bed, he reminds himself that it all rests on him. Shane is a gun always ready to go off. As long as Carl can point him in the right direction, it can all be alright. It has to be.

Shane lets Carl sleep on a bare mattress on the floor like a dog at his feet, while Carl thinks of Shane as a weapon he can use for his own survival. They are both dehumanizing the other, seeing the other as a mere tool. Shane's death at the end of part 1 was inevitable and all the elements for it are foreshadowed from the beginning:

Suddenly, Carl doesn't just long for his gun, he longs for a knife. A machete. A hatchet. This is the man who killed Abraham. This is the man who killed Glenn. Suddenly, he longs for a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.

It's especially telling that Carl already wants to wield the bat (even if here he's thinking about killing Negan with it). I think it's Chandler Riggs who mentioned in an interview that when Carl sees the Sanctuary for the first time with Negan, part of him is attracted by the power Negan has. This is very much present here. Carl already wants *to be* Negan here, to have the same power he has, to be able to inflict pain and vengeful retribution the same way Negan did in the clearing.

Okay but now that we've talked about Negan's first words to Carl, we need to talk about Carl's first words to Negan:

After spending all day being shown around the Sanctuary, after being fed and brought to a cozy room with a kitchen area and a comfy bed, Carl feels the sudden need to correct him. "He's not really my dad."

AKA, "Should you want to be my new daddy, just know that this slot if available" lmao

Okay no, but for real, this is especially interesting that Carl's first words to Negan are used to distanciate himself from Shane. This is due to what happened at the clearing. Shane was humiliated, brought low on his knees, submitted by a more powerful Alpha male. And here, this is Carl distanciating himself from Shane's defeat. In my mind, Carl is a sub craving male authority and power. He needs to be by the side of the most powerful man around, it's how he feels safe and protected in the apocalypse. He needs to be under the wing of someone stronger to protect himself and baby Lori. Until the clearing, this used to be Shane. But the second Negan entered the picture and made Shane kneel, Carl's allegiances shifted, whether or not he's aware of it. This moment is Carl sending Negan a very important subtext: "We both know Shane lost, and I need you to know I'm not like him, I'm not a loser." This Carl is a savage and I love him forever.

"Then why in the hell are you calling him that? Fuck, wait, tell me this ain't some kinky baby/daddy shit. A few of my wives call me that and I'd really like to be able to get laid without thinking about Shane's ugly mug while I'm balls deep in pussy."

Right, Negan, because that's the most logical explanation and the first one your brain should arrive at. It's for sure not related to the fact that you think the kid is hot. This being the first thing that comes to mind is no doubt purely a coincidence and not at all fueled by your already raging lust for him. God, he was probably thinking about tumbling Carl on the bed right here and then in Carl's new room.

Back on a more serious note, it blows my mind how much foreshadowing there is in chapter 1 (yes, I know I wrote it, but sometimes I realize something is foreshadowing *after* writing it):

“I’m not leaving you alone with these people,” Shane says darkly once she’s closed the door and her footsteps have receded down the hallway. “They’re trying to split us up. Weaken us. We won’t let them.”

This is almost prophetic. Shane knew exactly what Negan would try to do because it's what *he* would do. Divide and conquer. But Shane here is only thinking in physical terms: separating Carl from him physically so the Saviors have them isolated and can easily be overpowered. He didn't realize Negan would be driving a wedge between them by connecting with Carl. And by the time he did, it was too late to stop it from happening.

Conclusion; tldr: I really like this chapter. It's short, compact, non-linear, and yet everything is already here. The frayed relationship between Shane and Carl, Negan's interest in Carl, Carl's interest in Negan, Carl's utter loyalty for his little sister and no one else's. My favorite thing, though, has to be the ending with the boat. I'm really really happy that I thought of taking this element that was part of Rick and Aaron's storyline and that I managed to use it as a test of loyalty for Negan to put Carl and Shane through. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm proud of myself on this one. I love playing with canon and reusing it in a different way.

Also, I mentioned in my 2024 fic wrap Tumblr post that when I first posted this story on AO3, the engagement with it was very low and the Cegan fandom was pretty much dead. To give you an idea, I posted chapter 1 on January 9th and didn't receive a comment until January 14th. The second comment was posted almost a month later in early February (by no one other than the wonderful @reallygreatblogname222!!). It took me a month to get 2 comments on this fic and I didn't get another one until June, 6 months after posting. As discouraging as it can be to write a fic with very low engagement, always remember to find the joy in your own writing and to persevere regardless of what sort of feedback you get on it. 4 years later, Part 1 has over 900 kudos and 151 comments. None of it would have been possible if I had let myself be discouraged and stopped posting before finishing the story. It takes time to build a community but know that your people will find you eventually <3

PS: boy did I love commas back then. I'm cleaning them up as I re-read the chapter but, wow, 2021 Duchess, ease up on the punctuation.

You can find the commentary for chapter 2 here.

[paper-mario-wiki]

would you stream your fallout 4 playthrough?

besides the fact i don't stream anymore, i cant because i desperately wanted to have a character that is a girl and also has a penis, because Dana is the first character in a game I've made since I transitioned, and i wanted to specifically play a trans woman. to do so, i added a mod that gave her a penis (which was an extremely good call by the way, i am WAY more attached to her because of that one tiny detail if you can believe it).

as a result of this, every time i fully loot someone, or i take off my armor, or for literally any other reason someone might have their clothes all the way off, theres full balls butt pussy and ass. i mean, not all at the same time, but typically some combination.

though there's also a second problem. see, almost every mod that adds penises that a girl can have to Fallout 4 ends up making the penis, like, an attachable piece of armor that takes up an armor slot, and that's fuckin lame as hell. i dont want it to be some additive thing (even though Dana's signature weapon is a baseball bat called The Packer), i want it to be PART of my character. and eventually i found one that allowed me to craft a syringe to give Dana a permanent penis! but it has a very unfortunate name.

i think that if i were streaming, and i went to a chem station to make some Jet or whatever and saw the "FutaFEV" tab pop up, and another living human stranger saw that i had that menu-- whether they understood the previously explained context or not-- i'd turn into a pile of ash.

and that alone is reason enough for me to not want to stream this playthrough of Fallout 4.

[taffycandyqt]

👉👈 can I get some head-cannons on how 1987 and 2003 Casey would act as dads to his and the readers kid…….i have to imagine ‘87 Casey would be an interesting parental figure……not a bad one just very…..very interesting

Very interesting indeed...

03' & 87' Casey Jones x reader

Warnings none:

Fluff

2003 Casey:

Will cal the child squirt, tiny, chump, and/or kiddo

It all just depends on his mood.

If the kid is a girl he'll definitely call her princess or little darling and if they're a boy he'll call him little man, or buff little man.

He will love the crap out of your kids, dude is honestly so happy to be a dad.

When he first married you he wanted kids but he was also pretty scared and wasn't sure he was ready.

When it finally happened though?

He was so happy.

Just picture this man laying in the bed with your new born in his hands while they moved their little hands around without any real reason.

He would have literal stars in his eyes.

Dude would probably start taking his baseball bat with him every time he left the house.

Ain't no way he's going out with his kids without proper protection in New York of all places.

He would have a blast teaching the kids about hockey and if they were genuinely interested hockey games would become their biggest bonding moments.

Bro is honestly just a really fun dad.

Any game the kids play with him he will be 100% into it.

Doesn't matter what role he's playing he will literally destroy your house if your kids say it's what his character would do.

In short you had to tell the kids (and your fully grown adult husband) that real weapons were not, infact, toys and to stop stabbing your furniture.

You almost blew a gasket when you walked in the room to see Casey rip one of your couch pillows in half.

Yeeeeeah...

He won't be doing that again.

Also, ice cream trips are a staple in your house.

the kids want iced cream?? Why not!

Honestly he wants ice cream just as much as them.

If you say no he will join in with the kids and either try to get you to say yes or just try and convince you with puppy dog eyes.

when you kids hit the rebellious teen phase he will wil feel so much internal conflict.

On the one hand what they are doing is extremely dangerous, irresponsible, and/or disrespectful and it's infuriating.

But on the other... He also did those things at their age.

...

BUT HE WASN'T AS BAD (this is true. He was worse)

He is still happy with their teenage stage though.

The proud dad moments will be golden.

I feel like your guys kids would gravitate towards certain turtle uncles.

They would just click more with one than the other and he's happy to see his kids still having a connection with his old friends.

Mikey will complain to him often though if none of your kids pick him as their favorite uncle.

Overall, Casey is a top tier dad.

1987 Casey:

This dude is an entire basket case.

Not to say he isn't a good dad! He is.

You just have to thoroughly explain child safety and proper emotional reactions.

Examples would be, "You can't let our kid beat up their teacher for giving them an unfair grade" or "you can't hand a toddler a golf club to swing around the house" or "Sticking a fork in an electrical outlet will electrocute them"

Once you show him how to legally and safely go about certain situations, there actually aren't many problems!

He is very strict on what he believes to be right and wrong.

While his methods may be a tad counterproductive he means well and he will do everything in his power to mold your kids into well mannered law abiding citizens.

And in case you were wondering, he sees the whole beating up the teacher thing as the teacher lying on an official government document sooooooo.

In any case he's doing his best.

Casey doesn't really spend much time around the turtles in this version so their less like uncles to your kids and more just, "People dad knows".

If your kids show an interest in the turtles though, he will make a point to hang around more often.

When it comes to his mask Casey likes to leave it on.

It makes him feel prepared for any potential danger and he honestly doesn't feel fully dressed without it.

9 times out of 10 though, if your kids ask him to take it off he will.

He just loves them so much, and as paranoid as he can be he still wants his kids to know their fathers real face.

When it comes to raising your kids he is usually the one dishing out punishments. Not because you don't, he's just quicker at it.

He understands your kids are learning the ins and outs of life and he wants to make sure they know the consequences of their actions so they're prepared when they go out into the real world.

That being said he is also very fair.

If your kid didn't know something was wrong he won't punish them.

He'll just tell them why it was wrong and not to do it again. If they do it after that? Then they get time-out.

Like 2003 Casey, he is also very playful and loves playing games with the kids.

He will run with them around the house, dress up in costumes, do weird voices and all that jazz.

It's so cute honestly. This big buff dude in a hockey mask who prides himself in his strength and ruthless attitude towards "evil doers" will also have the most legitimate tea party while your kids call him Mrs. Whittlebottom.

With the way you both go about raising your kids it seems unlikely, to me, that they would become rebellious teens.

However if that were to happen Casey would be at a complete loss.

Casey has never felt tied down by the rules or "the man" as long as they kept the peoples best interest at heart.

Don't steal things, don't break others property, don't sell harmful substances.

It all made perfect sense to him.

When people follow the rules they are happy and safe and peaceful.

People don't get hurt and they are able to do what they love.

So when your children express feeling trapped by the rules of the house or call the punishment they get by breaking them "unfair" he is straight up confused.

Like, what do you mean its unfair that your growned for seeking out?! You know it's against the rules and you could have gotten hurt! WTF???

This could potentially cause a lot of tension between Casey and your kids but at the end of the day they still love each other.

It just might take some time for them to properly understand the other.

For everyone's sake though, let's not bet on your kids hitting the rebellious phase.

Also, your kids may or may not pick up some of his weird mannerisms such as calling criminals "evil doers" or hunting down literally anyone in the name of justice.

Yeah, it really doesn't help he raises them on super hero shows.

All in all, very dedicated husband and father. Will literally die for his family.

[trashogram]

The more I think about it, the funnier it gets that the Toon Patrol would go out of their way to kidnap get a kid for Reader because she’s lonely/bored but then would immediately regret it.

Yeah the kit is cute, and even the most callous criminal would melt over how Reader takes to mothering the little guy… but that’s all Reader does anymore. This kid has all her time and attention, and too late they realize that things were perfect when her world revolved around the 5 of them.

Reader used to be starved for affection and it made her far more suggestible. Now, their office/home has to be clean and organized 24/7, nights can’t run late because Junior’s bedtime is strictly 8 o’clock, no foul language, no obscene material laying around (Greasy’s Playtoon magazines eventually just get trashed), smoking can only be done outside, weapons have to be hidden or the kit might get into them and hurt himself, and no canoodling in front of the tyke.

Forget about patty-cake entirely, boys. There’s nowhere to do it where the kid can’t accidentally stumble in and be scarred. Not to mention Reader is so drained from looking after a child all day.

—*—

Greasy is jonesing the worst — he’s literally shaking. His eyes are bloodshot, shifting from wall to wall as he’s rocking in his seat and biting his claws down to nubs.

It’s been a day and a half without ‘the warm embrace of his beloved’. But the others aren’t actually faring much better. Smarty is slumped in his seat, the chair he’s sat in torn in various places until the stuffing spills out. Wheezy’s cigarettes have fallen from his mouth and are burning his feet as he stares at nothing with a faraway glaze. Psycho is spinning around, half-singing to distract himself until the direness of their situation turns that song into a distressed whine and Stupid is quietly yet repeatedly bonking himself over the head with his baseball bat.

They all look like denied addicts in some way, shape or form.

“Mummy!” Their ‘newest recruit’ giggles, completely oblivious.

The Toon Patrol all flinch simultaneously, then recede back into baleful or melancholy looks in the child’s direction. You scoop the little kit up in your arms and spin him through the air, around and around. The smile on your face and the way your eyes sparkle as you laugh along is all for that little ankle-biter, and it’s too much to take!

“We should’ve gotten her a dog!” Greasy wails, pulling the brim of his fedora down in sheer frustration.

[mightyflamethrower]

A Mexican “witch” who reportedly had cartel ties was killed June 30 after trying to kidnap a baby from his parents to use him as a sacrifice.

The woman, identified as 33-year-old Maria Guadalupe R.M., allegedly wanted to use the child’s death as a sacrifice to the patron “saint” of cartels, Santa Muerte (“Saint Death”), the Daily Mail reported Monday, citing a Norte Digital.

Prior to the attempted kidnapping the woman told her nephew, the baby’s father, she believed a deceased family member had been reincarnated as the baby and allegedly broke into the Juarez home to get the baby.

However, the woman’s 23-year-old nephew, whose name is Carlos Gabriel C.R., reportedly killed the woman with a baseball bat.

“Two unidentified men, who are still on the run, were also in the home to aid in his son’s kidnapping, but they were scared off by neighbors who alerted the cops about what was going on,” the report continued, noting that Guadalupe allegedly practiced satanic worship.

“She also had ties to the notorious street gang Los Mexicles, the armed goons for the Sinaloa drug cartel, formerly run by drug kingpin El Chapo Guzman, who is imprisoned in the US, Mexican authorities confirm,” the Mail article said. The article also stated it was unclear if the baby was hurt during the incident.

Although his father turned himself in, he was later released once officials determined it was a case of self-defense.

In a 2013 article on the FBI’s website, Robert J. Bunker, Ph.D., wrote about the narcotics wars in Mexico:

One component entails the rise of the cartel and gang narcocultura (drug culture) variant of the Cult of Santa Muerte (literally translated as “Holy Death”).2 This variant of the cult promotes greater levels of criminality than the more mainstream and older forms of Santa Muerte worship. Sometimes it can be so extreme that it condones morally corrupt behaviors—what many people would consider as resulting from an evil value system that rewards personal gain above all else, promoting the intentional pain and suffering of others, and, even, viewing killing as a pleasurable activity.

The Mail article noted the Catholic Church has denounced the “saint” called Santa Muerte.

In 2019, local and military forces in Mexico City carried out a huge raid and found tunnels and stash houses where cartels handled drugs and weapons and engaged in witchcraft, Breitbart News reported.

“During the raid, authorities found various shrines used for witchcraft rituals where human remains were apparently used as offerings or ornaments,” the outlet said.

You cannot import millions of people without importing their culture. One day our grandchildren will spit on our grave.

[honestgrins]

kc + caroline has MANY complaints about klaus but her biggest one is that the only time he responds to her follow up emails is to ask whether something is illegal

Per My Last Email || Klaroline

Weirdly canon-esque, and I have no defense. But we all know Klaus would be Caroline's neediest client.

.

Dear Mr. Mikaelson:

Per the agreement you signed, my services have been retained for legal representation on your accumulated traffic tickets ONLY. Please note that these emails fall under attorney-client privilege, but you should still avoid excessive details that would test my standing as an officer of the court. I trust that you will respect my professional boundaries, as difficult as that will be for you. To make sure I have all the relevant information at hand, please forward me the details of your current ID, vehicle descriptions, and all license numbers. 

As your court date is tomorrow, please respond as soon as possible. Otherwise, I would highly recommend paying your tickets before 9 a.m. via the online portal. My retainer fee, however, is nonrefundable.

ID, vehicle descriptions, and license numbers, ASAP.

Best,

Caroline Forbes Salvatore

Attorney, MF Group

.

Sweetheart, settle a bet for me. Kol insists his baseball bat is considered a deadly weapon, but surely it's just the force with which he can wield the bat that makes it deadly - therefore, its presence alone cannot be considered "assault with a deadly weapon."

A speedy answer would be appreciated, I just noticed the local bar installed a security camera that may limit your legal arguments after the fact.

x

.

And don't think I didn't notice the "Salvatore" in your signature. 

I did.

x

.

Dear Mr. Mikaelson,

My married name is registered with the state bar association and a matter of public record. In fact, my ability to practice in Louisiana is predicated on the fact that "Caroline Forbes Salvatore" holds a valid law degree and active license. If you have a problem with that, please feel free to retain other representation.

That said, I do want to remind you that I may advise on hypothetical legal scenarios, but will not abet any illegal activity such as assault with a deadly weapon. The threatening manner in which you imply your brother might wield a baseball bat, hypothetically, would be enough to enhance any assault charges possibly caught on camera.

As your lawyer, I don't recommend putting these hypotheticals in writing, and I really don't recommend letting Kol loose on New Orleans with a bat. Hypothetically, the whole city has cameras and it's a miracle certain activities haven't come to light. Yet.

Since you failed to send me the necessary details before your court date, I asked Elijah. You're welcome for getting the parking tickets dismissed, by the way, even though your behavior in court was detrimental to your case. The judge was not amused by your sense of humor, and neither was I. To prevent a repeat performance, I would suggest storing your luxury sports car in your massive compound instead of literally the middle of a pedestrian plaza. Just a thought.

Elijah has also taken care of your court fees and my incidentals since I had to void your last payment. Next time, please just pay the invoice. You don't tip your lawyer.

Best, 

Caroline Forbes Salvatore

Attorney, MF Group

.

Love - quick question. Rebekah is throwing a bit of a tantrum and stole the doppelgänger blood I had stored. Is this a civil suit situation, or can I press criminal charges? Honestly, I think she'd have a lark in prison, but I think the inconvenience would be consequence enough for her to feel my ire.

x

.

Mr. Mikaelson,

Again, I'm sure this is a hypothetical situation where your sister, who lives in your shared family domicile and therefore has rights to whatever is stored inside, takes something of no actual value, such as human blood stored for medical study and nothing else, then - hypothetically - a grown man with substantial resources like yourself can surely see that neither a civil suit nor criminal charges would be wise to file. None of those details of a...supernatural...sort would belong in the public record.

Not to mention, sending your sister to prison would only get me and several other people killed.

Hypothetically.

Seriously, I'm too busy for this, and I'm not even on retainer anymore. I will be sending Elijah an invoice for this email communication.

Best,

Caroline Forbes Salvatore

Attorney, MF Group

.

I've wired a retainer fee directly to your account. And since you're on the payroll, I have some paperwork to go through. Working dinner? I'll buy.

x

.

Caroline: Klaus, you cannot send me a million dollars in a personal check. 

Klaus: Clearly, I can. Dinner?

Caroline: ...

Caroline: ...

Klaus: I'm thinking Italian. 

Caroline: If you think this counts as a retainer fee, I do not have the time to explain how wrong you are, but I will if I have to. To be clear, that is a threat, and you know I will follow through, complete with slide deck and appendices. If you would indeed like to retain my services for the family, Elijah and I have already worked through an initial contract with LIMITS, you absolute ass. All official business will go through him, I swear, or you will regret it. 

Caroline: Again, that is a threat.

Klaus: So, see you at eight?

Caroline: ...

Caroline: I'm donating the money you sent.

Caroline: But yeah, Italian sounds good.

Klaus: Change your email signature.

Caroline: Don't push it.

[00lari00]

Alex and Alice (the lady and the tramp)

Based on this reblog by @bluetorchsky, I wanted to tell you a bit about them and at least a summary of their story because I really think they're cute and their love is kind of… funny XD And I also wanted to see Violin and Accordion reacting to Alex! They can work together and Alex likes to play the guitar! At least their boys can give Alex some tips and teach him a few things… XD

Name: Alexandre Cunha (Alex)

Age: 34

Nationality: Brazil

Skills: Can play the guitar, can fight capoeira very well and generally defend himself using his bare hands and strength, doesn't use weapons much but sometimes likes to use a baseball bat.

Curiosity?: He is trans

He joined the toppat clan when he was 16 years old, his parents were in debt with the clan so they literally sold their son to try and pay off their debt (Early Sir Wilford and Billy G era). Despite Alex's bad situation, Ralf (AKA Right Hand Man) took care of Alex as his apprentice and taught the little recruit everything he knew about fighting and defense, often almost treating him like a son but with heavy fighting training.

Over time he has become a tougher and more reserved person, and he respects Ralf a lot for teaching him all this, for teaching him how to be a stronger person. And now he's a Toppat bodyguard… and that's where Alice comes in

Name: Alice Svensson

Age: 32

Nationality: Swedish

Skills: Very good at arguments and managing things in the clan next door if her cousin Sven Svensson. They taking care of things like money and plans for the clan. She is very good at persuading and use words to her advantage.

She joined the clan when she was 23 years old (Near the end of Terrence's era), she comes from a rich mafia family. Her and Sven's family is... Complicated, in this family everyone has to be successful or a source of pride for their parents... If you cannot achieve your goal or come second, you are weak and incompetent. This caused a rivalry between Sven and Alice since childhood, Alice sometimes teased Sven for not being enough, although she regrets it a little now... Because they both suffered for the same thing.

As she is an important member of the clan due to being from a mafia family, she hired Alex as her bodyguard and right-hand man.

Alex didn't like having to obey her at first, but he started to get to know her better and understand why she was a person who was sometimes selfish or sophisticated. He liked how delicate she was and wanted to protect her and be loyal to her... She is sophisticated like a lady and he is quiet, serious and loyal

As always he is afraid to take the first step in the relationship and is actually very shy, but she also started to like him. I LOVE HOW DIFFERENT THEY ARE XD KAKSJSKAKJ 💕💕 Could someone teach Alex about love... 👀

Tag: #only1toppat!au

[questionableratatouille00]

Control

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Bucky is recaptured by HYDRA, he must relearn how to take control of his own life.

Note: Day 6 of @ailesswhumptober! (Conditioning/mind control/forced to hurt someone else)

Warnings: Angst, mentions of torture, weapons, cursing, mentions of nightmares, a (non-clearly stated) panic attack, crying, and Winter Soldier-y topics.

—————————————————————————

The rules and conditions were simple. The Asset does not comply? Zap. The Asset fails? Zap. The Asset speaks? Zap zap.

The Winter Soldier could not remember. But that had always been the issue, right?

It was HYDRA’s main tactic. Keep the skills, take out the memories. They used the Memory Suppressing Machine, they used whips, they used large pools of water, they used chains, tasers, knives, fists, hell, even baseball bats. There was almost a small routine in it. Repetition, really.

The Winter Soldier followed orders. He knew that. HYDRA knew that. Someone else knew that.

Who else knew that?

The Winter Soldier could not remember. He could not remember much, ever. The worst part, in his nonexistent opinion, was not knowing what was real. Had he escaped? New York was important to him. The Winter Soldier did not know why.

They put him in a cell.

It was better than the cryo tube, in some ways. He wasn’t cold and unconscious.

It was worse in others. He wasn’t unconscious, unaware. He could feel every sharp object they pressed into his skin, hear every mocking word they decided to spit at him. And there was nothing he could do about it. He was not in control.

The Winter Soldier was never in control.

——————————

“It’s Bucky. Go!” Steve shouted as you raced around the concrete bridge. You remembered the first time this happened, two years ago. Fighting Bucky on the bridge.

Winter had come. Both in a literal sense, and metaphorically.

It was cold on the bridge, snow tucked to the sides of the road, away from where people would drive. You shivered, pulling your suit closer to your body.

“This wasn’t fun the first time, it’s not fun the second time.” I grumble.

“This time we have a plan, at least.” Nat chimed into your monologue.

“Yeah. Find my boyfriend and unbrainwash him. Not exactly a party.”

“Fair point.” Natasha accepted.

“I’ve got eyes on him!” Sam shouted over the comms.

Oh, fuck.

——————————

James kept his expression neutral as he sat in the weird cell thing. It wasn’t like his cell in HYDRA, it was more of a moving glass box. At least he was in a chair, rather than standing in a cryo tube.

He awaited further instruction as he watched the woman standing maybe six feet away from the box. She was teary-eyed and undeniably devastated, though it was clear she was trying to keep herself together.

James wanted to comfort her, to make her feel less..sad. It was an interesting thing to him, especially considering that he wasn’t supposed to want anything. Not when he was the Asset.

But he wasn’t the Asset. The Widow had assured him of this.

He knew he was supposed to be Bucky. He could remember that these people were supposed to be significant, that he was supposed to be attached to them.

But he couldn’t be. He wasn’t aware of why, or of why not. He just…couldn’t. He watched her, his metal fist balled up. Not clenched tightly, but not open, either. It was a small compromise between the warring sides of his consciousness.

He wanted to fight his way out. He knew he could, and he knew he was stronger than the beautiful woman before him. He was distrustful, and ready to revert back to his monstrous ways.

But he didn’t want to hurt the woman even more. She knew something about him, enough to care about him. She’d been hostile towards the Agents who had tried to restrain him further, and she’d insisted that they take out the battery that made the glass box electric. If James moved, he’d be shocked. Or, he would’ve been, had she not fought for him.

He looked at the woman again. She was beautiful, even the mindless murderer could see that. And that’s what he was, a monster, of its very definition. An inhumanly cruel or wicked person. He wasn’t in control, he was never in control.

James was a monster.

——————————

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Bucky sobbed into your chest, his breathing, or rather, hyperventilating, making it obvious how badly this was affecting him.

You weren’t even sure what ‘this’ was. It had been two weeks since HYDRA had captured him for forty-eight hours. He’d recovered somewhat, now being able to recognize you and the rest of the team, and being able to understand that he was not the Winter Soldier. It seemed that no matter how many times you assured him that he wasn’t a monster, he didn’t seem to believe it.

“Babe, babe, it’s—you’re okay. You’re okay.” You repeated yourself. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.” You held him tightly, but loose enough for him to be able to push you away if he became uncomfortable.

Before all of this, the two of you had established a system. You both knew the other’s triggers and things they weren’t comfortable with. Now, Bucky had basically been reset in any and all progress you made.

Even so, Bucky normally wasn’t as open with his emotions. Sure, he cried, but you’d only seen him sob like this maybe once or twice.

He kept forcing out apologies, and you kept rubbing his back. “Babe. Babe. You’re okay. There’s nobody else here, it’s just you and me. And we’re safe. We are so safe. You are safe and I am safe. Steve is safe. Natash—Natalia is safe. We are all safe and okay, baby. I promise.”

He calmed down slightly, and he stopped sobbing. It was more sniffling and heavy breathing now. “Take a breath. Take a breath.” You demonstrated for him, taking in a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled after you’d soothed him.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, love.”

“I hurt you. On the bridge.”

“Was this triggered by a nightmare?” You questioned. “And we know it wasn’t you. Everybody knows that. I’m not going to blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“I know.”

As you soothed him, he eventually fell back asleep. You cried silently for him, hoping that he’d be able to recover from this. It was going to be hard, you knew that. But at least now he was in control.

Bucky was in control.

[penguwastaken]

Right, if they were truly morally good people beforehand like ‘Danganronpa 3’ retconned, it would be a realistic impossibility without brainwashing, you are right.

Only that is not what ‘Danganronpa 2’ originally went for — it was that they already all had the potential for evil, like all the building blocks were there for moral flexibility from monarch to literal yakuza members who beat a girl to death with a metal baseball bat as a revenge killing, to just be given the chance to do their worst, and taking it. The foreshadowing was all there for it — it’s why the twist worked, the irony in arguably the most ‘deserving’ of ‘Danganronpa’ characters going though their own games without context:

The ‘Danganronpa Togami’ trilogy (written ahead of this) understood that — that’s why it relished in just letting the members of Ultimate Despair be themselves, doing evil — why Sonia and Kazuichi were such a delight together, the mad monarch and her weapons designer who creates everything she asks of him, the red delights of the imagination, displaying what it means to have power. They even hinted at Gundham and Nekomaru having pretty much figured out who both had become from context clues, even if they didn’t have all the details — Gundham having enough pride to admit he would have actually built his Tanaka Empire if given the opportunity to — which he was.

Them "already having the potential for evil" completely falls apart when you remember that you spend the entire game with them and they do not, in fact, "already have the potential for evil." In fact, compared to any other entry, they are by far the friendliest cast. Even the guy who beat a girl to death with a metal baseball bat did so because they killed his sister and the game establishes he doesn't even like being part of the Yakuza. And what makes that fall apart is that Mahiru intends to forgive him. Nagito literally attempts to kill himself and everyone else at the mere thought of having become an Ultimate Despair. Most of the people who kill in Danganronpa 2 do so for sympathetic or understandable reasons, and the one person who doesn't is Mikan as a Remnant (who, by the way, they describe as not even being able to hurt a fly before becoming an Ultimate Despair.)

That wasn't what Danganronpa 2 was about. Danganronpa 2, like the first game, is about how these once maybe flawed but still innocent people were driven to do things they otherwise wouldn't have if it weren't for Junko and the killing game. This has been a theme since the first game and it carries over to the second, it's very clear that that is the message Kodaka wanted to convey all along.

I wrote more about it here, but the point is that they're victims of Junko. Danganronpa 3 emphasizes that.

Also nothing in Danganronpa Togami contradicts anything. Their being themselves because being brainwashed doesn't suddenly erase who you are, Nagito shows that. All the brainwashing did was amplify feelings they already have in order to overload their emotions and make them crave despair, it didn't suddenly change who they were so obviously their behavior in Danganronpa Togami is going to reflect who they were before.

Also the first volume of Togami came out in November of 2015 and DR3 began development in around 2013, I think it goes without saying that DR3 began development first.

Regardless, the point wasn't that the class was all capable of evil before Junko got to them, it's that they, like everyone else who was used by Junko, were victims of her. Nothing in Danganronpa 3 contradicts that.