#“But culture is more than skin tone!�� so there’s this thing called cultural appropriation right

[m4ggotm0ld]

Natlan is literally the worst thing Hoyoverse has ever created, and for so many reasons, but they somehow made it worse by k!lling off the only good character from it

[cryptidsmagick]

If you have the energy to answer, what's your opinion on Natlan? I'd imagine the feelings are complex

Oh dear victim, you have made some mistakes.

Where should I even fucking start.

Full Disclosure: I have kintypes consisting of yumkasaur and a natlan mythic, and after a very long internal debate that multiple people can confirm I shred myself over, choose to work with Wayob. This will be elaborated with the rest of the rant.

Why are they white?

I'm sure you know this has become Quite A Tag relating to Natlan, mainly because we have white passing Hispanics claiming that players of other ethnicities are over exaggerating the white washing.

And this isn't an over generalisation, people keep outright saying "I'm Hispanic and feel represented because [...]" or something similar, to which I respond: We Hispanics are racist shits.

I'm putting up no defense for my people—my mother actively tried to erase my black and indigenous heritage, despite the fact my (father's side) grandfather is literally visibly black and the stories & traditions of the taino people have been passed down on my mother's side.

Why? Because we're the exact same people who throw racial slurs at each other every other day and constantly try to justify it as "tradition" or "culture" or "harmless slang."

Look, between you and me, they really just want to see Americans be so naïve when they get called a gringo and follow up with the most vulgar phrases they can think of as..."compliments." I've seen it happen so many times it's just disgusting.

Cubans, Dominicans, Purto Ricans...I've seen so many Hispanics do it including my own parents. They would genuinely start calling people mulattos in disgust and still justify it as a "racial identifier" when it's the same racist bullshit of forcing people to put down exactly how black they are during Jim Crow laws in the US.

Anyhow, point being, I'm disgusted by how little my own people are putting an effort into defending the culture of the ancestors—the Inca, Aztecs, Taino, and other indigenous of South America/Carribean.

Just because modern day Hispanics have forgotten their culture, or are so Spanish they aren't even related to these tribes, doesn't mean we should replace them all with white-passing individuals. Modern day Hispanics are a diverse people with a wide range of skin tones, and characters based on our tribes should not be fucking white majority.

I'm not just "some mestizo," soy taino, and even if I'm on the cafe con leche end, I still want to see people properly represented.

On the non-hispanic indigenous side of thing, can we talk about the white washing of a Jamaican God? Some people have tried to defend Hoyo over the whole Ororon thing but not only is he one of the weakest characters in lore/meta, but he's paler than my very European friends. (In fact, most Genshin Characters are.) He's a complete disrespect to the deity he's named after.

It's not just white passing indigenous culture being used, but defined black heritage from Jamaica, Africa, Haiti, etc. No individual culture should have the right to say Hoyo isn't appropriating as they're taking from the peoples, not a people.

The darkest character we're going to get from Natlan is Iansan, to which we were expecting some darker characters but Hoyo proceeded to white wash their own characters. Xbalanque is black in all the in-game murals depicting him, but the only interaction we'll ever have of him is possessing a white child as filler text for Mavuika's fan service. Kinich is a light shade of tan in his art, then glows like the surface of the sun in-game.

They've tossed a few black NPCs our way, but there are more black enemies in game (inflated by Natlan) than black, interactable NPCs. A lot of them are vision bearers too.

Varka, for example, is a character from Mondstadt people hoped to be playable, who's been leaked to have a vision and dark shade of tan. But he's also been leaked to use the generic NPC model and will most likely never be playable.

Refusing to represent POCs, for the second time (Sumeru), was something that firmly put me against Natlan when it released.

TL;DR: Natlan whitewashed minority groups by choosing to actively integrate their language and cultures, but making minimal effort to include diverse characters. As of currently, 5 characters are white, 1 is so pale of a tan they're nearly white, 1 is the bare minimum of black and still unreleased.

What is going on with the tribes?

When it was mentioned that the Children of Echoes had dancing as a central part of it, I expected to see traditional dances with cultural meaning. Instead, I hear fucking hip hop. And what are they doing on the stage? Breakdancing.

A lot of people with indigenous ancestry found Hilichurls fascinating due to their obviously tribal dancing and wondered if they had defined social structure back in 2020-2021. Now, we know they're from Khenr'iah and their dances are related to abyss rituals.

These Hilichurls, a human-related enemy with a "true death" animation (instead of disappearing into sand/smoke), are given arguably more accurate tribal dynamics than the "proper tribes" of Natlan.

And I just don't have words for how outright disappointing every other attempt of cultural integration was. The People of Springs (pacific islanders) having surfing but the "they're not lazy" thing being overemphasised to make them look lazy. The Scions of the Canopy and their...biblical references brings out some lovely generational trauma (can we talk about how the seelies went from fairies to fallen angels?). The Masters of Night Wind being a purely shaman/priest/spiritual tribe—that's not how it works, individuals worked as a community with multiple roles. The Flower-Feather Clan being so exaggeratedly warrior based that people are essentially useless as Wingless.

What I'm getting at here is that Hoyo failed to make them actual tribes, and their attempts at traditions were soulless. We partake in Turnfire Night, only for us to have to practice until the actual thing was soulless, and there was no real challenge (despite them repetitively stating there was). We're selected by Elder Tlapo (Claw) to help with weaving scrolls, but not only were half the voicelines barely audible, Hoyo skipped out on opportunities to explain the culture of the Masters of Night Wind, and literally cuts TWO people short as they try to tell us the different versions of the story. We partake in the flight test for the Flower-Feather clan, but the nature of the test itself has no real meaning. In fact, we're given the opportunity to advocate for abolishing it.

These soulless, unresearched attempts at culture incorporation wind up being more appropriation than anything, harming these minority groups the tribes are based on with misrepresentation.

Ancient names are also treated with less value than they're worth, with the Traveler being guaranteed the name before they have noteworthy accomplishments and being granted a high honor despite not earning it in the way dictated by tradition. They could've earned the honor themselves by partaking in the tournament, but were instead handed it. These obsidian slips are a critical part of their culture, and although IRL tribes might gift someone a tribal name, I did not enjoy how it was executed in-game, as the Traveler was only gifted the name for plot armor.

TL;DR: Natlan failed to properly incorporate tribal culture and wound up mostly appropriating it.

Sexualisation of tribal wear?

South American, Caribbean, and Pacific tribes all have minimal traditional wear due to the available materials and climate. So, something like what Mualani wears would be standard. However, proceeding to give every female enemy from every tribe a fucking cowboy hat, boots, and short-shorts is just out right sexualisation. Every's tribe clothing would and should be unique, not a copy/pasted wild west.

Chasca, isn't even an enemy and she's been subject to the same minimalistic cowboy outfit.

Mavuika is wearing a body suit, not tribal wear. To which, is incredibly sexualised for fan service, which they leant on like a crutch. (That bodysuit looks so uncomfortable.)

Male and child-like characters are covered, despite the fact if they were using minimal wear to be accurate, males would also use minimal wear. They're not using this clothing style to be accurate, they're using a "cultural thing" to excuse sexualisation.

They did the same thing with other nations, including those based on Asian culture. Most female Liyue characters wear incredibly sexualised Chinese wear, and in Inazuma, Raiden's kimono was so sexualised they actually had to lengthen her skirt in the cutscene to avoid her bare bottom being distracting to the player.

This has been a long standing problem in Genshin Impact, and after a (mostly) break from it in Fountaine, it's being thrown at players in full force in Natlan.

TL;DR: Hoyo keeps using cultural wear to excuse character sexualisation, and does so exaggeratedly in Natlan by taking advantage of southern indigenous' minimal wear.

The Wayob?

Honestly, the Wayob is perhaps the only thing they might've nailed. The integration of spirits of individual lands, existing as a grand deity, the Great Spirit of This Land. Their portrayal and integration into Natlan's culture was incredibly well done until...

...the Lord of the Night came into the picture. After being colonised and losing most of their culture, what an indigenous person DOES NOT want to hear in reference to their representation is: "joke's on you, angels created the entirety of your culture and the colonists were right."

It was completely unnecessary and, frankly, most lore videos out there fail to acknowledge the confusion of this sudden change of what Seelies are. In Mondstadt, the Seelies are mentioned in their books to be fairies (as their name literally means) who ruled over Teyvat since before Celestia. Then Celestia strode in as the tyrants they are and forced these god-like beings to submit to their authority (and were punished with their memory-less selves when they failed to follow Celestia's rules).

This was a progressive change of the lore, honestly, as in Sumeru, Fountaine, etc the dragon sovereign was introduced as the "true rulers," then we have this colonisation shit being introduced in Natlan (which honestly, Celestia was from the start but they're also canonly evil-ish so...?).

Point and case is, Natlan's separation from Celestia (aside from the Archons, who which, don't follow Celestia's traditions for it) was a distinct feature of it, and suddenly, these angels who predeceased Celestia are, plot twist, suddenly created by Celestia and integrated themselves in Natlan.

So what if they're "fallen angels"? That objectively makes it worse.

When I first interacted with the Wayob I felt connected to my ancestors in a way I hadn't before as I hadn't been lucky enough to be taught my cultural traditions by my mother. I was unfamiliar with most of Dominican traditions, nevertheless Taino ones. It had been incredibly difficult to get a grasp of the Zemi'no especially seeing how my people was nearly driven out of existence, and ironically, the Wayob, a figure from pop culture, was what finally made things click.

The Wayob was the only thing that was right in Natlan and Hoyo ruined it for us.

TL;DR: The complete disregard of the Great Spirit through the integration of christian references (i.e. a supreme god and their angels) takes away from the distinct, unrelated force.

So...

In general, Natlan's just a hot mess. And unfortunately, it's not Hoyo's first, and it won't be the last.

China has incredibly absurd beauty standards that require multiple surgeries and treatments due to how extreme it is to achieve and maintain, and this shows in the game's characters—whiter than white skin, thin waist, small shape for most female characters (the tall ones all wear heels).

These beauty standards don't translate well when portraying other ethnicities as Hoyo applies them to them—resulting in the white washing and colorism. And honestly, I would more accurately describe it as racism as there are multiple characters canonly discriminated by race, and the Traveler themselves does it at times (approaching individuals from Snezhnaya and Khenr'iah with hostility, to which they eventually stop doing with the latter...mostly).

They have made a couple of changes (making it so the eremites disappear into sand rather than having the true death animation) but we are mostly going unheard in our feedback, as we're not their target audience. And to be frank, there are Chinese games with diverse skin tones that are just as successful as Genshin, so they have no real reason besides internalised racism/colourist (which isn't a valid reason).

[opinated-user]

lie. Courtney confirmed that their grandpa had Native American ancestry and that no one but one aunt ever made any attempt to reconnect with that side of the culture. LO herself has multiple times talked about how "you don't need to practice the culture to be an ethnicity", which shows a horrible misunderstanding of what ethcnity even is. she has said that the only time she ever talked with anyone from the Nation was during the funeral of her grandpa. speaking of her grandpa, she also lied about being gifted by that grandpa a cheap piece of jewelry with a "native american looking" coin at the center that was actually designed by a white man, whose father actually displased real native american. later she said she just happened to find that "family heirloom" around the stuff of her grandpa. Courtney said that their grandpa would never being caught dead with such a piece of actual literal cultural appropriation. then LO never mentioned it ever again. then LO used that same piece as the only thing on her body while going topless on Youtube. because that is how you reconnect with a culture, right? by literally sexualizing it? and never actually being part of the community or the culture? that is how you do it, right? right? 2. LO is the one who plays into blood quantum, anon, you got ir backwards. she was the one who insisted that her blood quantum was acceptable enough to be considered a full Cherokee (nevermind, again, the Nation never claimed her and she never had any active contact with that community). when people would ask her why she was going around calling herself Cherokee, LO was the one who pulled out a number (2/1 was it, LO?) as some kind of proof. i called that as racist, which it was, because for indigenous and Native American people what matters is more the culture than any amount of blood someone could or couldn't have. 3. so now we're blaming Lizzy because of the brownfacing avatar. so why did you had MO drawing your new avatar with that exact same skin tone? just because you aren't using that avatar anymore, doesn't mean that it stopped existing.

if you knew that was never your skin tone and you knew people had a problem with it, why did you keep it in? why you never yelled to anyone making your skin look like that like you did yelled at them when they made your avatar slighty curvier?

when was this energy for a skin tone that only now you recognize was a problem in the first place? furthermore, i remember you insisting that the avatar was your real depiction. i remember you saying that it was totally taken from your real life picture (if you pick the shadow). i remember you saying that it was "colder" as if that meant to be a defense of some kind.

4. very dumb, indeed. because racism that you commited for years against a community you never had any active contact with and used them as accesories for years is dumb. said the racist white person who is a dissapointment for their only actually Native relative alive.

[geschrie-sixtyne]

DISCLAIMER: I am not Russian, I have read and played the games, but any errors I am open to hear

Name: Aleckshyv Arkadynov/ Алексшив Аркадинов

Aliases: Aleck o Arkasha/ Аркаша, Алек

Gender/Pronouns: Male, Him /He

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Demisexual/IDK

Age: 27 años

Birthdate: 17/08/2006

Occupation: Founder of the "Kremlin Stars" faction (I created that name today, I will still choose another name..maybe)

Height: 1.90

Build:It is a normal type with a rectangular but strong body.

Skin Tone: Albino and sickly dirty red

Hair: White and grayish dirty

Eyes: Some say gray, others say green, and others say blue.

Identifying Marks: A scar that cuts his nose

Appearance:

He wears a jumpsuit similar to that of a mechanic that he has modified to his liking, a bulletproof vest with eyes painted on his chest that reflect light and scare novices, He wears old firefighter gloves because his hands are sensitive in certain areas and have many cuts or calluses due to it,It is also very sensitive to sunlight and that is why it is covered in every way. , a red sweatshirt under his entire outfit and lastly a sports tank top On his shoulder he has the faction logo

Personality: Very caustic, he is and considers himself erudite, with refined and very clear speech, he uses many book references when expatiating or when using sarcasm.Studious to the teeth, distrustful and very observant, he does not usually give in to twist his hand. He is manipulative and knows what to say to stay on top. But at the end of the day he only does what he believes is right, because he lives hating the war, he saw the psychology of it and how it mentally affected everyone and he hates it, he loves the culture and seeks to protect the little that it considers real

Motivations: He loves culture, studying, learning and rationalizing, he loves the emotions that understanding things provokes and he only knows that he prefers to fight for something that could lead humanity to be reborn than for false things.

Current Goal: Release the great library of creatures called 'Librarians'

Life Goal: Although he is an extremist, he wants to fortify the library itself to ensure its use and maintenance (an overly ambitious wish).

Best Quality: Has an iron determination

Worst Quality: Forget that he is also human and can have breaking points ,Sunlight really hurts his skin, he have to go ultra covered.

Fears: The total loss of culture

Hobbies: Read, polish his weapon with a dirty stick ,Go to the surface, study human behavior

Talents: High information retention, Strategic

Skills: Recognize texts, read maps, learn quickly,Considerable aim and very patient

Difference between this group and the Brahams: They do not seek knowledge through the subway, they go directly to the surface to the library , they know they are going to die and they don't have to, they plan each shot to study the library and be able to draw plans to eliminate the librarians ,They want to share knowledge, they want everyone to be able to go to the library again in freedom as long as the culture is respected, because they believe that it is important to share knowledge. It would be something very absurd to be able to create a safe environment in the library and even more so knowing that the Polis is nearby, but it would be appropriate for there to be a response group that ensures it in rounds.In addition to the fact that they are not very charitable towards the Brahames and the ideas of the Polis of being reserved with knowledge

[beetrootbug]

White people concern me

I saw i really concerning quora thread (is that what they are called?) and it was essentially about people debating the ethics of a white person wearing box braids. A concerning amount of people said it was "white bigotry" to tell someone off for wearing box braids and that "it's just hair". One white girl was sent home from school for wearing box braids, and someone replied to the mother stating "you should sue the school for discrimination". The amount of privilege dripping from that statement is gross, imagine being able to sue someone over any minor inconvenience. Now i must state: i'm am not black, nor am I white, which puts me a really interesting position as an outsider to this sort of stuff. Personally, i am more than willing to respect black people's culture, i really don't think it's that difficult. So it baffles me that white people get so upset about it. One person said "is it cultural appropriation of the chinese if we use gunpowder? No." Which yes, it is not cultural appropriation to use gunpowder, to MY knowledge, chinese people have never been discriminated against for using it or inventing it, you know what they have been discriminated against for? Their eyes. Everywhere you look you see people making fun of chinese people's eyes (not just the chinese of course, but japanese ect) many children make the whole "chinese, japanese, zombies" joke. And yet you know what was trending a bit back? Fox eyes. SUDDENLY when a white person pulls their eyes back, the monolid is pretty. It always was pretty, but it took a white person doing it for people to like it. And you know what? IT STILL BACKFIRED FOR THE POC COMMUNITY! Chinese and japanese people were being sexualised by white men whilst black people were being harassed about asianfishing, because a lot of black people naturally have monolids. Somehow an issue that wasn't even relevent to black people became another thing to attack them over. Someone else pointed out that a white girl was beat up for wearing box braids by a black person, which isn't right of course. HOWEVER, I have heard a few stories of white girls being bullied by OTHER white kids for having box braids. You know what else i've heard? Countless stories of black kids being harassed for their hair. Countless stories of chinese kids being bullied for their eyes. Countless stories of trans people being attack for their top scars. The list goes on for us minorities, but the minute a white cis person is hurt? tragedy! Hurt by one of us? WHITE BIGOTRY! For those of you who aren't aware: reverse racism doesn't exist. It doesn't. Most of the accounts of "reverse racism" are white people not liking the fact that they have to think before speaking. Not liking the fact that they might be wrong about something. Not liking that they need to be better and learn. and you know what the craziest thing is? I TOO NEED TO MIND MY LANGUAGE! ME, A BROWN PERSON CAN'T SAY OFFENSIVE RANDOM SHIT ABOUT JEWISH OR BLACK PEOPLE OR ANY OTHER RACE THAT I'M NOT APART OF??? SHOCKER!!! WHITE PEOPLE AREN'T THE ONLY ONES WHO HAVE TO "be careful" OF WHAT THEY SAY, WE ALL FUCKING DO, AND WE FUCKING DO IT WITHOUT COMPLAINING, SO STFU, YOU AREN'T SPECIAL AND YOU AREN'T DISCRIMINATED AGAINST.

There was one reply in that quota thread that gave me hope, the person stated that "short story, if you want to use box braids, end racism". It's so easy for people to say "i don't see colour" Well you should. Because for centuries, POCs have been discriminated against for our features and skin tone, you don't just get to say that its "not a problem anymore". Acknowledge colour, have discussions about colour, have discussions about culture, preferably from people of said culture (though it isn't their responsibility to educate you, they can do so if they are comfortable)

Another comment i saw somewhere feels relevent here:

"when you're accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression"

Also, equality isn't just "treat everyone the same", it's "give everyone the ability to achieve the same thing and be treated with respect" If that means you need to mind what kind of braids you wear, then you do it, because in order to be equal we need respect.

ALSO also, to the people saying "most black people don't care, only a small amount do" thousands (if not millions) are upset about it, they may be smaller in comparision, but it's still a lot. And about the "poorer black people" who "don't give a shit", of course they dont care, they're too busy trying to deal with all the other shit white people have done to them.

Final statement: anyone using the excuse "vikings did it first" you're wrong. Vikings most likely didn't braid their hair, if they did, it was to quick get hair out of their eyes, not a fashion statement. Some most likely had dreads that they allowed to grow out to make them stand out from the slaves who were bald (oh yeah btw THEY HAD SLAVES), but even then we don't have much evidence for them having dread apart from a throwaway line from a roman saying they had "rope hair". Overall, egyptians were doing braids way longer than the vikings and they certainly didn't invent braids anywhere similar to cornrows. If you want a "viking hairstyle" get dutch braids.

[helnjk]

A Change of Scenery - C.W.

Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Requested: yes!

omg hi! I just saw the fanart of the oldest Weasley brothers(🥵🥵🥵) and was hoping you could do a Charlie x reader thing? Maybe the reader is a healer at the sanctuary and Charlie doesn't mind getting hurt because he gets to see her but she literally has no idea he adores her till he spells it out. With promt 42 of your list maybe? Totally cool if you want to leave it out 😁 love you and your work! -🍄

“what the hell were you thinking?”

Word count: 3.1k 

Summary: moving to romania for your absolute dream job, you did not expect to meet a cheeky, flirty redhead along the way. 

Warnings: mentions of injuries, food, & drinks. charlie is a dragon tamer, reader is a healer, of course he’s going to end up with a few cuts and bruises. 

A/N: god i love charlie weasley with all of my heart. that is all. 

prompt is in bold

-

Being connected to and living somewhere very in tune with the earth had always been a dream of yours. It just so happened that your new job had you transferred to the perfect place: Romania. 

Sure, it was quite far from England and had quite a different culture, but the beauty of the mountains and the picturesque scenery made up for it. The fact that you were also working in one of the best medical wings in the country, on a dragon reserve on top of that, was basically your dream come true. 

“Alright, and this right here is your station,” announced the head healer, who insisted you call him Gerry, gesturing to a decently sized office space. “You can decorate it anyway you like, as long as it’s appropriate. Most of the folks around here aren’t locals either, so we’ve got loads of photos up and lots of owls coming in and out everyday.” 

“It’s perfect,” you grinned. 

Gerry left you alone to get settled, and you didn’t want to admit it to anyone, but the first thing you did once he was out of earshot was to squeal excitedly and do a little happy dance. 

It was just all too exciting, really. Dream job, dream location, dream view even. After your burst of excitement, you spent a bit of time just staring out of the window, taking in everything. In the distance, you could even see the silhouette of a dragon peeking over the canopy of trees. The fact that this was going to be a regular occurrence just spurred even more delight in your heart. 

Later in the day, after most of the introductions were made and tours were finished, you could be found familiarizing yourself with the medical wing of the sanctuary. 

“C’mon Gerry, I’m completely fine!” you heard a gruff voice complain. It was coming from the hallway outside, but the accompanying footsteps sounded as if they were on the way to the wing. 

“You know it’s protocol, Weasley,” a very amused Gerry replied as they rounded the corner. 

Beside your boss was one of the most gorgeous men you had ever laid eyes on. With wind ruffled hair the color of sunsets and lightly tanned skin, you almost didn’t notice the small, almost inconspicuous limp he was sporting. It also took you a few seconds to realize that he was probably one of the dragon tamers of the reserve, the first one you were going to meet and treat, it seemed. 

“Ah, Healer L/N, perfect!” Gerry called out to you, “This is Charlie Weasley, one of our on-site dragon tamers.”

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled, holding out his hand for you to shake. 

“You too,” you said in reply, trying not to think about how warm and calloused his hand was in yours. 

“His leg got swiped by the tail of a Chinese Fireball,” Gerry explained as he motioned to the leg that Charlie wasn’t putting much of his weight on.

You could see the redhead roll his eyes, “Honestly, I’ll be fine! This has happened more times than you know.” 

Despite his best efforts, both you and Gerry managed to get Charlie to take a seat on one of the beds that lined the wall. With a sigh, he rolled up his trousers just enough for you to see the area of the wound. 

“Lucky for you, treating this doesn’t take much time,” you smiled. Swiftly, you took your wand out and muttered the correct incantation, “There. Good as new!” 

“If I get to be under the care of Ms. L/N here, I wouldn’t mind getting injured more often,” he flirted, sending you a cheeky wink. 

Gerry just guffawed a loud belly laugh, patting Charlie on the shoulder fondly, “Don’t you go running off with one of my best healers now, Weasley. We just got her!” 

“Don’t worry, Gerry,” you smiled, “I think this one’s too injury-prone to run anywhere.” 

–

As the last work day of your first week at the reserve was coming to an end, you were surprised to see Charlie Weasley knocking on the open door to your office. 

“Hey,” you said, sending him a small smile.

“Hey,” he parroted, stepping inside. 

“Anything I can help you with?” you asked over your shoulder while putting away the last of your files and slipping out of your healer robes, “You’re not injured again are you?” 

Behind you, Charlie gulped as he saw the little sundress you wore underneath. His head spun at the sight of your exposed legs and he nearly forgot what he was about to say. 

“Nah I’ve got a better track record than that, thankfully,” he chuckled. Doing his best to keep the calm facade he had going on, he leant against the doorframe as he asked, “Got any plans tonight? I was wondering if you’d fancy getting a bite to eat.” 

You were caught off guard by how nonchalant and straightforward his invitation was.

“Is this your way of asking me on a date?” you asked, finally turning around to face him once again. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Do you want it to be? Because I just wanted to be a nice person and show you around Romania, but if you’re looking for a date…” 

“Oh shut it, Weasley,” you groaned, “The tab is on you tonight, then.” 

Charlie sent you a grin as you strode out of your office. Despite your faux-annoyance, you were happy to have someone show you around. Being a healer was your dream job, but it did have some setbacks. Obviously, you were needed at the medical wing of the reserve for the majority of the week and that didn’t give you much time to familiarize yourself with the town and the people. 

Because of how remote the reserve was, most staff and employees lived on site. There was a designated area for the many different cabins and living quarters. To give you more of a tour of the little Romanian town nearest the reserve, Charlie offered to side-along apparate you. 

You could feel heat creep up your neck and spread along your cheeks as you gripped firmly on to his muscular arm. 

The sun was just about to set and cast gorgeous hues of orange and pink across the sky as the two of you landed just outside the town. Charlie led you along, showing you where the most important areas were; you saw the town square, the little street bazaars, and the most popular eating places. 

By the time the pair of you got to one of his favorite restaurants, a quaint little place in one of the sidestreets, your cheeks were sore from laughing too much. After the initial awkwardness as you tried to navigate topics that interested the both of you, you found yourselves chatting away animatedly. 

“Yeah, Fred and George were an absolute nightmare when they were little,” he chuckled, fondly recalling the many times he and his older brother Bill were left to babysit their younger siblings, “But they’re great. They’ve got a shop in Diagon Alley now, selling prank products of all things. It’s wild.”

“Your family sounds absolutely lovely,” you said. It warmed your heart seeing how his eyes lit up talking about them. “It must be so hard being so far away from everyone.” 

He nodded slightly before taking a sip of his drink, “Definitely. My first year here was such a big transition. I’m lucky I get to go home every so often.” 

There was a lull in the conversation as you dug into your food, but it was far from the awkward silence you were expecting. 

Maybe working in Romania wasn’t going to be so bad after all. 

–

“Why is it that when you get hurt, I’m always the healer on call?” you sighed playfully as Charlie walked through the door of the medical wing. 

It was the fourth week in a row he had to come and get something patched up. They weren’t major injuries, thankfully, but you had come to learn that the dragon tamers were required to know how to perform the basic healing spells. The things Charlie would come in for were almost always resolved with a quick episkey. 

“You know me,” he joked, taking a seat on one of the empty beds, “Always so accident prone.” 

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes. 

Still, with your wand in hand, you gestured for him to show you where the injury was. 

“I’ve got two things today,” he began. You raised your eyebrows in response. “This is the first.” 

 Charlie quickly rolled the sleeve of his top, his toned arm flexing at the movement. In all the time you had worked at the reserve, which wasn’t that long at all, you still hadn’t gotten used to how fit he was. A quick intake of breath had you re-centering and focusing on the task at hand. There was a small burn on his forearm, not enough to cause too much concern. 

You cast the charm quickly so as not to be distracted further, “There, all done.” 

“There’s still one more place that’s hurt Y/N.” 

By the way Charlie spoke, you knew he was up to something. Inwardly you sighed, “Alright, let’s get to it then.” 

Your heart seemed to stop as he began to unbutton the first few buttons of his top. 

“What’re you doing, Weasley?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your composure as you got a peek of his very toned chest. 

With a dramatic sigh, Charlie leant back and pointed to an area above his chest, “My heart hurts, Y/N.” 

For a moment you just stared at him, looking absolutely ridiculous in the position he chose to don, eyes blinking owlishly. Truthfully, you didn’t know whether to laugh or to send the strongest stinging hex in his direction. 

“Charlie Weasley, you thank Merlin and Morgana right now that I’m not hexing your balls off,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“I’m being serious, Y/N!” he continued, “I don’t know if I’ll survive this!” 

“Pity, does that mean I’m losing my ticket to free weekly meals?” she joked, already turning on her heel to get back to what she had been doing before he entered the wing. 

There were sounds of shuffling as if Charlie had gotten back up on his feet again and then, “Definitely not! I’m banking on those meals, one of these days you’re going to be begging me for an actual date. You’ll see.”

“Keep dreaming, Weasley.” 

You sent the redheaded dragon tamer a sarcastic smile, but he just sent you a flirty wink in reply. 

–

“Code white. Need extra hands in the medical wing ASAP.” 

The shimmering white bloodhound soon dissolved into nothing as it delivered its message to you, early one morning. You had just gotten to work, not even in your healer's robes yet, when Gerry’s patronus appeared. 

As you rushed to the medical wing, another patronus made an appearance and rattled off what had happened and who was hurt. Your heart dropped the moment you heard who you were going to be treating. 

“Oh Merlin,” you whispered to yourself the moment you saw the state Charlie was in, “What did you get yourself into?”

In all the time you had been working at the reserve and as a healer in general, it was not unusual for you to treat severe injuries. In fact, you liked to think that when you were faced with someone’s life or quality of life in your hands, you worked even harder and smarter. However, seeing Charlie more battered and bruised than you had ever seen him made your heart pound loudly in your chest. 

“Healer L/N, you’re right on time,” Gerry spoke to you clearly, rapidly explaining the situation and what you needed to do. 

In a flash, you had your wand out and were muttering all the healing spells that came to mind alongside your head healer. You didn’t notice how you were holding your breath and clenching your wandless hand until you let out a sigh of relief when Charlie began to stir. 

“He’s stable,” Gerry announced and released a breath. 

You felt a soft pat on your shoulder as he left you to deal with the patient, deeming it alright for him to step out and get back to his other responsibilities. Carefully, you walked towards the redhead whose eyes were fluttering open. 

“What the hell were you thinking, Weasley?” you murmured softly, your wand sweeping over him one last time to check is vitals. A soft hand reached out to push the stray strands of hair that had fallen in front of his face and you felt him lean into your touch. 

“Y/N?” Charlie mumbled, his eyes still half-closed. 

“I’m right here,” you said in reply. 

“What happened?” he asked, trying to prop himself up but groaning in pain. 

“What happened,” you began, going to help him get to the seated position he wanted to be in. He smiled up at you and you could barely remember what you were trying to say. With a small shake of your head and clearing of your throat you continued, “What happened was that you were being an absolute idiot who absolutely did not call for backup when a nesting mother was going on a rampage.” 

Despite his obvious discomfort, Charlie had the audacity to chuckle slightly, “Sounds about right.” 

“Don’t you dare do that to me again, Weasley,” you admonished, pulling back and shooting him the dirtiest stare you could muster. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. When I got Gerry’s patronus, all I could think about was–” 

As if an electric jolt shocked you, you cut yourself off before anything else escaped your lips. 

“Was what, Y/N?” he asked softly. 

His eyes were shining with something you couldn’t quite name, but the sincerity in his face gave you pause. 

You shook your head, “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” 

Instead of continuing to reprimand him for his foolishness, you busied yourself making sure he was comfortable and that everything was alright. The potions he needed to take later in the day and the different salves to be applied to his skin were placed on the bedside table. Pillows were summoned, fluffed, and placed behind him. 

As you shuffled around the room, purposely ignoring the redhead, his eyes were trained on you. 

The moment his eyes opened and he felt your hand brush gently across his face, he thought he had to have been dreaming. If it weren’t for the ache in his muscles and the sting of his burns, he would’ve believed that he was in some alternate reality wherein he woke up next to you every morning. 

He was tired of waiting for his fantasies to come true, he decided. 

“Y/N.” 

The way he said your name sent shivers down your spine. Your whole body froze for a microsecond before you turned to face him. 

“Yeah, Charlie?” 

“Look at me please,” he begged. 

With a deep breath, your eyes locked with his and you were almost blown away with the look on his face. 

Sincerity pooled in his eyes as they scanned your face, trying to see if your own expression gave anything away. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move or look away from him. 

“Tell me what you were thinking,” he whispered gently. 

It was now or never.

“All I could think about was how,” you gulped, taking a steadying breath, “How you could’ve died or gotten so hurt, when I hadn’t even had the chance to tell you how I felt about you.” 

You could hear Charlie’s sharp intake of breath and you had to look away, unable to face the rejection you were ultimately going to hear. 

“Y/N–” 

“And, and I know that you don’t feel the same–”

“Y/N–”

“But, just seeing you lying there–”

“Y/N!”

Charlie’s voice rang through the whole wing, a sharp contrast to the otherwise silent space. You sucked in a deep breath, surprised. 

“Y/N you have to know I’m absolutely mad for you,” he said clearly. 

You blinked furiously at him. 

“You-I, what?” 

Charlie tried to reposition himself so that he could face you properly, but you could see that he was still in a bit of pain. Instead of letting him maneuver himself uncomfortably, you placed a soft hand on his shoulder before taking a seat by his legs. 

Immediately, he went to take your hand in his. “I think you’re absolutely breathtaking, and talented, and passionate. I just haven’t had the balls to ask you out on a real date.” 

“Then what are you waiting for, Weasley?” You offered him a small smile, glancing back down at your intertwined hands. 

The smile he sent you left you breathless. 

–

“You ready to go?” Charlie asked, leaning against the doorframe with his legs crossed just like when he had visited your office that first week. 

A small grin inched its way on to your face at the sight of your boyfriend. His hair was just a tad bit windswept, adding to the rugged look he insisted he could pull off (and he definitely did, you just didn’t like feeding his ego too much). 

“Just about,” you smiled. “Let me get out of these stuffy robes first.” 

And, just like the first time he had knocked on the door to your office, you turned to shrug off your uniform and hang it up in one of the hooks beside your desk. Instead of keeping his thoughts to himself, Charlie grinned widely and whistled at the sight of you in your dress. 

Just as you were about to chide him for being inappropriate, strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you backwards. A small ‘oof’ escaped your lips as your back made contact with Charlie’s strong chest. 

“Charlie!” you slapped his arm lightly, “C’mon, I’m still at work!” 

“What so I can’t show my girlfriend some appreciation for being absolutely drop dead gorgeous?” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses on the joint where your neck met your shoulders. 

You rolled your eyes, “You know I love a good compliment. I would just rather you do it outside my place of work.” 

With a chuckle, Charlie released his grip on your waist. “Alright, alright.” 

“Just for that, the tab’s on you tonight, Weasley.” 

“Ah so the usual, love?” 

“Of course.” 

Charlie held his hand out for you to take, and unlike the first time he took you out, you allowed yourself to blush, take his calloused hand in yours, and press a soft kiss on his lips. 

–

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15 @lumos-barnes @cruciostyles @writingsomewrongs

Charlie taglist: @pinkypurplemagic @lifeofkaze @oldschoolkiddo

[dragynkeep]

Twiins: "Respect ALL Asians!!!"

Also Twiins: "But not dark-skinned Asians!!!"

~

Twiins: "Stop erasing light-skinned Asians!!!"

Also Twiins: "Yang Xiao Long, Taiyang Xiao Long, and Sun Wukong are NOT Asians! Their skin is too light!"

~

*Blake is not Asian Coded. She was designed with European features and clothes, an English first name and an Italian last name, and was based on a French fairy tale - meanwhile her background was openly based on specifically the African-American background and civil rights, and they did it TERRIBLY but still, so arguably Blake is way more "black-coded" than anything else. Twiins is probably just going REALLY HARD on denying it so that she can continue to plug her ears about Adam after the tone-deaf white-ass stuff she said about him.

*Meanwhile, Sun was one of the darkest-skinned characters within the first three seasons, and his skin was only lightened later (which is racist) and his character allusion that he SHARES HIS NAME WITH is from one of the most famous works in Chinese literature, and his weapon is based on that exact Chinese character's weapon. He IS Chinese coded, it's just that Rooster Teeth are so racist that they didn't handle it respectfully from the start and then tried to retcon it out of him later. To a much lesser extent, Taiyang and Yang are also at the very least "Asian-Coded," because of their names and because one of Yang's character allusions is a character in Japanese Anime, WHO WAS HIMSELF BASED ON THE ORIGINAL SUN WUKONG FROM CHINESE LITERATURE. Admittedly, I do not consider Yang and Taiyang to be actual Asian representation in canon (though I too always attempt to respectfully portray them as Chinese and half-Chinese in redesigns of my own) BUT THEY'RE MUCH CLOSER THAN BLAKE IS!!!

*The only "Asian Coding" given to Blake is that she has an inaccurate katana and inaccurate pajamas. So why is it that people look at Adam's Katana and call it "cultural appropriation of Blake's culture" but then they point to Blake's katana as the ONLY PROOF that she's "part of that culture?" If having a katana is appropriation for Adam, it's appropriation for Blake, because THEY HAVE THE EXACT SAME FEATURES, CLOTHING DESIGN ELEMENTS, AND FAIRY TALE.

*One could presumably argue "But Blake's Parents are Asian!!!" And to that I say a) Blake's parents were kind of a retcon in the first place lol. b) Blake's parents also have an unfortunately high amount of European features in their designs (since they had to make them look like Blake) and the only thing that "codes" them as Asian are their clothes, names and house, so that's sus. c) Blake's parents are based on Indian-Asian culture, not Japanese, so if we're just going by aesthetics alone, they do not have the same culture as their daughter for some reason, and I'm counting that as both "Blake's CLEAR English/French/Italian design" AND as "The three or four instances in which she was drawn to hold or wear a vaguely Japanese item." AND FINALLY d) - racism CW for the rest of this paragraph - Ghira was based on the fictional character Bagheera, from the racist novel "Jungle Book," which appropriated South-Asian culture and was written by a white colonialist - not ONLY a white colonialist, but a pro-war, pro-invasion, pro-colonialism white man who was famous for writing the horrifically racist poem "White Man's Burden" in which he literally paints non-white cultures as subhuman devilish half-animals and laments how "sad" it is that White people "aren't shown any gratitude" for "rescuing" such "inferior" people from themselves. imo that fact makes Ghira's entire character more racist than if he'd just been white like his daughter, rather than "good rep," and the entire concept should be thrown away.

*If having a katana and Japanese-inspired clothing is the ONLY THING that it takes to call Blake "Asian-Coded," THEN RAVEN BRANWEN IS ALSO "ASIAN-CODED" (even though she also is given European features and names and her character allusion is partly from Welsh mythology and party from Norse) WHICH MEANS THAT YANG HAS TWO "ASIAN-CODED" PARENTS JUST LIKE BLAKE!!!

*I was under the impression that Twiins' original statement was something along the lines of "it's okay to re-design fictional characters to reflect a more diverse background, but the problem is that it's ONLY Blake who gets this treatment, when she's the ONLY Asian-Coded character among the main four." BUT NOW that people are informing her "Actually, two of the other four characters have MORE Asian-coding than Blake does, and they frequently have that background represented in redesigns," she's changing the discussion. The points she made were proven wrong: "Blake is the only Asian-coded character," "Blake is the only character who is drawn as non-white by fans." SO NOW she's trying to DISPROVE THAT YANG AND SUN WERE ASIAN-CODED (so that she can pretend she was correct in saying Blake was the only one) and she's IGNORING THAT YANG AND RUBY ARE DRAWN AS HALF-CHINESE IN REDESIGNS (so that she can pretend she was correct in saying Blake is the only one.)

*And yes, she is also COMPLETELY ignoring the numerous works of art which depict Blake as a dark-skinned Asian character or an otherwise non-white character.

Twiins seems to have this weird disconnect, where she does not understand that her experiences are not universal. She constantly just announces things that "EVERYBODY" "ALWAYS" "ONLY" does, with absolutely no regard or consideration for people who don't do that?? It's so weird. She did that with her Adam video, and now she's doing it about Blake, too. And then when she gets called out for being dead wrong, she gets so fucking fragile and defensive, and she DOUBLES DOWN ON BEING WRONG because she refuses to admit it's even an option - and thus ends up being super bigoted as a bonus. :/

It really sucks because I did like her before she started showing this side of herself. Funny how often the things she says go right in line with the words of people she condemns though lol like where's the self-reflection???

Thank you for putting it all out so I didn't have to do so, anon.

I personally think that even Yang is shit as Asian rep, and after the whitewashed Sun debate, we really are running low on actually good Asian characters in this show.

BUT, if Twiins is adamant that Blake is "Asian-coded" (which is a term I absolutely hate, it's like calling Weiss "European-coded", it sounds dumb as fuck), then Yang, Sun and Taiyang absolutely count as Asian-coded too, which just blows her whole argument out of the water.

If they are Asian too, then Blake isn't the only one having her skin darkened in redesigns, because Yang and Ruby has that done to them just as much. But Twiins can't accept being wrong, so she'll move the goalposts and scream at the fans who point that out.

The amount of cognitive dissonance in this whole thing is wild, because she holds herself as the Mighty Whitey protecting the poor Asians, but when actual Asian people tell her she's wrong and being racist, she'll immediately start being racist towards them. Make it make sense.

[mojoflower]

WHY is fanfiction not the appropriate venue for your political or social battle?

We can all agree, I posit, that there are changes that need to be made in the world (racism, for example;  patriarchal inequalities;  rape culture;  capitalism;  plug in your personal cause here).

We can all ALSO agree, I think, that the way culture, media, etc. portray things influences a consumer on an unconscious level.

We can agree that, in real life, certain things are clearly bad:  abuse of others, non-consensual sex, systemic inequality, I can go on….

So.  Let me feel my way through this.  I, personally, feel like fanfiction (specifically on AO3, since that’s where I encounter it) is NOT an appropriate battleground for enforcing cultural change by:

Leaving comments about how someone’s work is (in your, the commenter’s, opinion) wrong, damaging, unfair, insensitive, etc.

Telling the writer they should change this or that.

Telling the writer they must add or delete tags.

Broadcasting your opinion of the writer’s egregiousness outside AO3 (twitter, for example, or here on tumblr).

Organizing a campaign of harassment against the author if they don’t change to suit your personal requirements.

First of all:

 Be the change you want to see.

Fanfiction, unlike any other media out there, is INDIVIDUAL.  It is one work, from one single person – voluntary and unpaid.  You yourself are one single person.  You can have as much influence as this writer.  Write the works you want to read, instead of demanding that the writer change to suit you.  This is how romance novels changed from non-con, non-condom-wearing, shudderingly unequal stories in the 70s and 80s to where they are now, for example.  New people started writing stories, and eventually established authors started changing, too (or dwindled away).

Remember that you know nothing about the author.

You don’t know their culture, their skin color, their age, their gender.  You don’t know their socioeconomic status or how much free time they have.  You don’t know their current mental or physical conditions.  You don’t know any of the things going on in their life.  AND.  You are not entitled to know these things.  When you lash out at an author for not doing research, for not editing, for… anything at all… you cannot assume that they’re not fourteen, not suicidal, not a native speaker, not disabled such that writing a single paragraph is a tremendous effort.  You don’t know they’re not in an abusive situation, or economic peril.  You do not have the right to tell them to change.  Whether you are asking them to change text, tone, tagging, ships, plot, you name it.  Anything.

Dead Dove:  Do Not Eat.

Don’t like, don’t read.  These are simple concepts, and the tagging system on AO3 helps you to avoid many triggers.  Simple common sense, once you're into a story that’s raising your hackles, will warn you away from the rest.  If you say, ‘no, this person can’t write that, it’s contributing to pain in the Real World’ then you are functioning as a censor.  I mean, at its most basic level, a censor is someone who strikes out passages in books or other media because it’s… immoral/bad/etc.  The problem is that morality is incredibly tailored to the group you’re in, and also incredibly fluid, shifting over time.  So… why do YOU get to be the censor and not the author?  What makes YOU the final word?  Seriously, think about it.

Fanfiction writers are the most vulnerable group you could target.

Which makes them easy prey, and possibly makes them the juiciest and most satisfying targets.  Address your anger to Hollywood or Simon & Schuster or Congress – and your voice will doubtless get lost in the shuffle.  Address it to an author on AO3 and you can deliver your blow personally, one on one, and witness the damage.  There is no professional buffer between your resentment and their reaction.

Who are fanfiction writers?  Overwhelmingly women, overwhelmingly queer, often very young and inexperienced.  Wow.  What a rewarding group to start slapping around.  You wouldn't be the only one to think so.  Seriously.  Aim your anger at someone who is STRONGER than you.  Not someone who is (likely) weaker than you.  You’re kicking a kitten, while a lion lounges behind you.

Censoring someone’s thoughts is bad.

People should be allowed to THINK.  And they can think whatever they want.  Whether and where and how it should be expressed is another matter.  AO3 is a safe place for whatever weird-ass thoughts you have.  It is expressly written into their mission statement.  AO3 was SPECIFICALLY DESIGNED so that authors could have a place for their dead dove fics.

So.  Why is [your pet cause] okay on AO3 and not on a script in Hollywood?

AO3 requires membership before you can post anything, so it’s arguably private.  AO3 provides tools for readers to avoid works they might find triggering.  AO3 profits no one.  Follow the money, and there are your true culprits.  Not a housewife from Hoebokken.

Fanfiction writers make no money.  When they write, they are not lawmakers, filmmakers, teachers or preachers.  This is not their job.  They do not have a responsibility to the community, because they are vested with no power and no paycheck.  Please move your battlefield to one of these other venues.  Your fight will be harder, but it will also do a lot more good than traumatizing some naive  kid away from writing forever.

Fanfiction comprises an individual’s personal thoughts and personal works, written for their own enjoyment, shared only through AO3 to (presumably) like-minded readers.  Fanfics are a person’s fantasies and daydreams.  They might be an author’s therapeutic exercise.  Or someone trying to explore something new, whether it be cultures, ideas, sexualities or kinks.  Humans need a place where they can be wrong and make mistakes.  Think about that, I implore you.  If you are constantly pointing out someone’s errors, you may eventually either silence them forever, or instill in them permanent resentment.  This does not further your cause.

You have your personal cause.

I’ve seen a lot of them.  Incest is bad, you’re not allowed to write about it.  Pedophilia is bad, you’re not allowed to write about it.  Abusive relationships are bad, you’re not allowed to write about them.  Racism is bad, you’re not allowed to write about it.  Genderswap is transphobic, you’re not allowed to write about it.  A/B/O romanticizes damaging gender inequalities.  There are many.  If every single one of you got to stamp out your personal crusade, then fic would be scant on the ground and many people wouldn’t try to create anymore.  It’s stifling to creativity and terrifying to an author that they might slip up and be called out.  No one, as far as I know, likes to think of their fanfiction as something that will be turned in for a grade.

Your standards are your own.

What are the precise parameters of an abusive relationship?  Transphobia?  Racism?  Pedophilia?  Fetishism?  Where does dub-con become non-con?  No one is the mouthpiece for the whole world.  You are only the mouthpiece for yourself.

If you think to yourself that it’s not okay to tell someone they can’t write about, say, a gay relationship, but it IS okay to tell them they can’t write about a certain ship or dynamic (for Reasons), then maybe you should step back and check yourself and your entitlement to someone else’s endeavor.

In conclusion:

I’m not saying that racism doesn’t exist in fanfiction.  Or creepy sexual abuse, or glorification of harmful dynamics.  It certainly does.  I’m not trying to play semantics with you.

But when you see these things, when they bother you... back right out.

That’s it.  Just back out, ignore it and find a different fic.  (Or better yet, write your own!)  Shower the fics you approve of with love and comments about why you think they’re great.  Give them kudos and bookmarks and shout-outs on your blog.  Eventually, if your opinion is popular, authors who thought otherwise will realize that readership is looking for something different.  They’ll change or they won’t, but the body of work will change over time, and THAT is what you’re looking to accomplish.  Not to stamp out fanfiction altogether.

[remsmoonlight]

— title : calming the waters

— word count : 2.3 k words

— pairing : rick grimes x reader

— summary : the switch from surviving on the road to living in a cookie cut neighbourhood hasn’t been easy on anyone, especially the leader of your group, you leave it to yourself to remind him it’s not all on his shoulders

— warnings : only brief descriptions of blood and violence .. usual stuff for twd

note: only at the end did i realise i left the opportunity for smut but im too tired to continue damn

Life in Alexandria has so far been strange to adjust to, you continue to find yourself waking up regularly through the night. Your body has relied so long on a broken sleep cycle it simply cannot switch off the switch as easily as you wish for it, and wish for it you do every night before bed. However, life refuses to heed to your desires, preferring to disregard them completely. Your family finds it amusing to tease you about the dark circles under your eyes, that is after you have had anything with caffeine in to rattle your system into a state of alertness.

How the residents have made it this far agitates you to no end, while you and your family have suffered tragedy and loss at the hands of people like the Governor, to the people at Terminus while they sat sheltered and safe from the horrors of this new world crawls under your skin. The thought scratching inside of you, they’ve never known pain as you have, the realisation comes as one of the sons of the Monroe family accosted you the moment you set out of the door.

“ ⏤ she keeps going on about this pasta maker. I’m telling you, she never stops. “

“ she never stops, huh? “ you ask, placing yourself on the porch step with your head lazily resting in your hands. You felt as soon as he began speaking to you it was going to be a conversation you would not be interested in.

The you from twenty five minutes ago happens to be correct.

This all began because Rick thought it appropriate to let you sleep a while longer, and while you do feel more rested than you have in the longest time you can remember, you can feel irritation tickling the back of your neck intensely. Oh, I’m going to kill him when I see him. A silent thought interrupts you rudely, you almost shake your head to be rid of it and focus back on Spencer.

“ yeah, she’s not someone you wanna be caught right now by. She can talk your ears off for days. “ he informs with a chuckle, completely unaware of your blasé attitude or uncaring for it.

“ you know, I can really imagine that. “

Every inch of you is buzzing with an uncomfortable energy, you don’t want to integrate with their community just yet, preferring to feel around and understand the dynamics of how everything works. When society fell into the flames from humanity’s last fight with the walkers, you were lucky enough to have been able to seek safety with your group back in Atlanta at the quarry, and these have been the same people you have spent time with, shared your meals with, everything done has been with them. Quiet town life has been a memory of a past life that has faded into nothing more than a grey blur, shrouded in fog. To live here? It’s like learning how to ride a bicycle after many years of letting it gather dust. Your ways are not perfect, but they’re perfect for you. For your own pace and peace of mind.

“ has my mom given you a job yet? “

“ uh, yeah actually she has. I used to be a preschool teacher before everything went to hell. “ you explain to him, your memories of the children you used to teach had been painful until Judith. The little girl had been what you needed to confront your past that you had been so quick to push away in order to survive. You can’t count how many times you’d come close to thinking about their little faces, and if they’d survived the initial chaos, refusing to even put a face to a possible death. You’d spent many days and many hours getting to know their audacious and bold personalities, it cut you deep to even imagine the days they were supposed to have, the lives they should have been promised extinguished so prematurely as if they had been no more than a flame of a candle burning in the night.

“ well, those classes are really small. You won’t have your hands full. I suppose you’ll probably be helping with the afternoon classes, we’ve got more teenagers here. “

“ mhm, I thought as much. “ your words are a small acknowledgement, though it deterred him little.

Spencer keeps talking and talking, every once in a while you mutter an ‘ yeah ‘ or an ‘ mhm ‘ and even at points humming in response. It’s obvious he means well and is trying to get to know you all but it’s just a simple clash of cultures, it’s why you’re unable to cut the conversation short so rudely. Even during the apocalypse being respectful hasn’t been wiped away.

Yet.

“ hi, Spencer! “ the sugary sweet tone of Carol interrupted the interaction as she greets Spencer and yourself, the broad smile ignites her features.

Although, you know her better to know this is not one born of genuine emotion to see the man.

“ I was hoping to borrow my friend here. Rick’s looking for them. “

Recognition lights his features up, his eyes widen in understanding her words. Never have you been more thankful for the older woman than currently, if there’s one thing Carol can be, is a miracle maker. Spencer backs away with little to say, bidding a goodbye to both of you.

“ Carol, thank you. “ you breathe, your hands move up to scratch your scalp as tension eased away into the open air. “ I thought he was never going to leave. “

“ yeah, I thought you were in trouble. I thought you were ready to kill him. “

“ believe me, if he spoke for two more minutes I was coming close to getting very creative with one of those blunt dinner knives in there. “ you speak, a short giggle plummeting from your lips at the thought.

“ he’s at the gate ⏤ Rick, that is. If you want him. “

A few more words of light hearted humour are exchanged between you, just little things. You have known Carol for a long time, one of the few people to continue to see her as a human after losing Sophia, yes she was in mourning, but she was still human. You never tiptoed around her, you offered her support as best you could and for that she continues to be grateful. Even in the prison, you became closer, as time passed on she took up something of a parental role in your life. Though you were old enough at the time to not need one, you accepted it. A slice of normality granted to you for what reason you have never found out, but one you wouldn’t seek out either, for some things happen without cause or reason, a mystery of life.

Turning around a corner, you’d realised you took a wrong turn around one of the houses, your sense of direction would have been your downfall had you not found the people you now call your family. Admittedly, you’d not spent much time exploring the vast environment that is home to these large homes, you still dedicated some time to mapping all the twists and turns. However, not even that has aided you. Despite this, you find a silver lining to getting lost.. you have been able to shake off whatever blades of irritation that sorely wished to cling to your being for longer, you wanted nothing more than to approach Rick without anything that could set him off.

Though few words have been shared between you both about how you all feel about being in Alexandria, it doesn’t mean you haven’t noticed a tension building its blocks within Rick. Knowing all he has been through, you’re worried that he will reduce himself to being no more than a caged animal, biding his time to break free. It’s why you’re searching him out, a discussion is sorely needed before anything should happen, chaos has a way of trailing your family like a puppy following its master.

“ there you are. “

Rick lays his sights on you in the distance, waiting for you to move closer before saying a word. You would go so far as to say it has been one of the few instances of genuine contentment as his features relax from the lines of strain it held not even a few moments previously. Your hands move straight to your hips, standing a few metres away from him.

“ oh, you were actually looking for me? “ eyebrows raise ever so slightly, you thought Carol had been simply nudging you in his direction.

“ just to check the perimeter. “

“ and you need me for that ? “ you question him as your hands move to rest on your hips, a knowing smile lifting your expression as you observe him.

“ ‘course I do. “ Rick’s tone matches yours, it’s been a while since you’ve heard even the faintest hint of amusement associated with the intense male. It’s alien in a sense, though you’re welcoming of it.

Few words are exchanged with the Alexandrian who has been tasked with guarding the gate, exchanging the barest of information you realise as you watch Rick. You hope that even an hour outside the walls of the town is enough to soothe even the slightest of the negative energy that surrounds his being. Your situation is not perfect, and it’s inverted to what you had been experiencing previously, but you believe in your heart that this has to work. The thought of your family not being able to survive yet another bout of the outside world terrifies you to your core, the ice that is your fear erupting from your centre at the idea.

“ is there a real reason why you wanted me out here? “

“ it’s been a while since it was just us, gettin’ hard to breathe in there. “

“ Rick, you know I’m always here if you need it. I hate to see you carry everything on your shoulders the way you do. “

The hardness that had embedded itself into his face slowly eases at your words and thanks you for your support, he reaches out in between the distance that separates you to slip his fingers between yours. A comfort warms you in a way that no heat could at the action, you’re unable to stop the laugh that bursts free with a splutter. Even back on the road, and he was at his wits end, he was never this affectionate. It’s not something you hold against him though, there were many more things on his mind that required more attention.

“ somethin’ funny? “ he questions you immediately.

“ seeing this side of you, it’s just a bit weird. A good kind of weird, though. “ you assure, continuing to walk over the overgrown branches. “ you’re doing okay? Like, really? “

“ just hard to get used to. These people have just been lucky. “

You nod in understanding, it’s been your first thought every morning since walking through that gate with months of dirt and grime that had accumulated, clinging to every inch of your skin. While blood from the dead dried into your skin, becoming part of you, they lathered themselves in floral perfumes and sprays. As much as you want to allow the venom to pool within you, to form a monster born of hate ⏤ you can’t.

In this world you can’t be driven by such emotions, to aim them at innocent people. Had you been in their position, would it be such an easy position to leave this protected bubble? A piece of the previous world left untouched by the cold, ghostly grip of the dead.

“ we can’t hold it against them. “

“ they’re weak, they could get one of ours killed. “ he quietly grumbles in response, his head shaking at the thought. They’d lost too much already, and he would be damned if he lost any more members of his family, especially now they’d reached an element of safety.

“ or they might not? “ you counter his statement, your eyes pleading as you stop where you stand, your hands still connected.

“ we can’t deal in maybes, we deal in certainties. “

“ what are you suggesting, Rick? That we take over? “ you ask, your brows dropping lower. You’d seen enough death and violence to last you a lifetime, you’d had enough for now. You can’t confirm if you have enough energy for another fight. Too much has been lost.

“ if it comes to it. “

“ this is their home now, our home. They’re not bad people. “ you argue lightly, not wishing for a heated disagreement out there. Any walker around would be attracted by the noise and then the smell of the living, you’ve begun to get used to not having to slaughter walkers every day.

“ no, but they’re unprepared. “

“ so were we at some point! “ inch by inch, you close the distance. You rest your grip on his forearms, trying to calm him no matter how useless it may or may not be. “ Rick, you’re trying to create a problem. I get this is an adjustment and if anything does happen, we’ll have you back. We will fight, but for the sake of safety.. we have somewhere to actually live. “

Against his better judgement he nods, just to put a stop to the conversation. He’d wanted to spend some time alone with you that held no prying eyes from Alexandrians, nor the entertained gazes of your group.

“ let’s just see how things go, and try not to keep things bottled up. It never works out. “

“ I’m not sure you want me to share my deep, dark secrets. “ he asserts with a playful inkling hidden poorly within his words.

A smirk lines itself into your features, you’re feeling the energy from Rick and you can’t deny that it feels good. You lift your chin higher, inching your lips closer to his, the warm glow beginning to burn brighter ⏤ a silent dare in the form of a quiet whisper on your tongue. “ try me. “

[sohin-ace]

Hermes - Switching Cells

*looks at watch* Would you look at that? It's gay time!

Fem reader

"Why did they make us switch cells again?" You glanced up at the tall dark-skinned girl next to you as she scoffed, rolling her eyes to the back of her head.

"Pfff... Some bullshit." She huffed exasperatedly, "They caught two girls being all nasty and frisky and they got mad."

Hermes and you were currently both walking along the hallways, all your belongings in your arms as two assigned guards escorted you, holding onto the chains tied to your handcuffs like a lifeline as they kept careful watch over you.

You could see other inmates doing the same from the corner of your eyes, moving from corridor to corridor and getting ushered to pack their stuff faster.

Everyone in the prison were to move from their cells and switch cellmates. It was the new rule that had just been established after some people decided to act a tad more intimate than they should appropriately have within a strict prison and disturbed other inmates as well as some night duty guards.

When the announcement was made in the court yard, the entire staff present to break the very important news down to the people, all the inmates started laughing their asses off between annoyed grunts and 'booh's.

Anyone would. How stupid was that rule? What kind of prison even forbade physical relationships between inmates? How was intercourse ever harmful to jail discipline? Weren't prisons in Florida famous for rape culture and letting inmates basically abuse each other? What about 'prison sexuality'?

All these questions you and your fellow comrades couldn't answer.

Your assigned guards set you up in your new cell after you finally reached it and locked the door behind you two, leaving you to settle down before phone calls time.

You stared around the small windowless room, cemented walls and armored door. Well that sure changed from the huge bars from before. To be fair this cell seemed even better than the old one.

"So... What are these things for?" You pointed at the bars on the small frame cut on the metallic door.

"To prevent girls from snatching each other I guess? Not like that would stop anyone but ya know... No one else but the guards on duty can see the inmates now so I suppose that's what they wanted." Hermes cleared, still salty from the ordeal and unnecessary bother.

She threw her belongings somewhere and you turned your gaze away from the door, you could only agree with her scepticism. "Hmmm... Yeah that's bullshit."

Hermes plopped herself onto one of the beds with a breathy groan, supporting the back of her head with her arms, certainly claiming that bed as hers.

Your eyes widened a bit in surprise and slight confusion when you realized that the two beds were in the complete opposite sides of the room.

"They... They even removed the bunk beds?"

"Yeah," She scoffed with a smile. "To be honest that just makes what they want to prevent easier. Like, you could easily just- Tch, I'll never understand the warden."

You looked around a bit before putting away your stuff neatly, unaware of your cellmate's sneaky and insistant eyes on you.

"Are you gonna be okay? Without F.F., I mean." You asked without taking your eyes off of your current task.

"Hah, you should worry more about her than me. She's the one that's stuck with Jojo."

"Hey, Jolyne's not that bad..." You chuckled in your ex-cellmate's defense, "...When she puts her panties away, at least."

The room became awfully silent until you suddenly heard Hermes chuckle lowly, almost evilly, even. You turned your head around to look over your shoulder and saw the latina give you a mischievous sideway glance.

You blinked and furrowed your brows at her in confusion but she only smirked back, swallowing another chuckle.

"Girl, do you want to have a good laugh?"

Her sudden deep voice made you gulp and you swore you felt a wave of heat wash over you and a pearl of sweat glide down your forehead.

Oh no, first of all, she didn't have any business being this hot, sprawled on her bed like that, her strong arms flexing effortlessly and her enticing smirk reaching her golden-green eyes.

Secondly, you knew that when Hermes had ideas, they were almost just as bad as Jolyne's. And God knows that Jolyne could scream dumbass energy like no one else sometimes. Especially when she was bored or horny. Or both.

You bit your lower lip and nodded at her. Hopefully you wouldn't be in trouble because of her genius plans, but again, it just made it all the more exciting.

Hermes jumped off the bed and struggled to keep the grin off her face as she glanced at the barred door. God she was so gorgeous and she didn't even brag about it.

She approached you and landed one strong hand on your shoulder, bringing her index towards her green painted lips in a shushing gesture.

"Here's what we're gonna do..."

She leaned in and explained the plan in a sweet hushed tone and you could barely concentrate on her words when she was this close to you, whispering with her overly endearing mexican accent. God, how could one be so cute and so sexy at the same time?

You tried your best to keep a straight face as she laid her evil plan out to you, but you could feel her breath hitting your lips and you had to clear your throat many times to cover the small squeals you unwillingly let out.

The more she explained, the more you could feel your face warm up. Not only because you were trying hard to not stare at her very inviting lips but also, and mostly, because of what her plan actually implied.

Hermes sure was a bold woman, but this plan would piss off the guards so much and be so incredibly funny if nicely executed, but at the same time, it was a bit, if not very, inappropriate and risky, which you got to figure out, was something she very much enjoyed.

"You sure about that, Hermes...? It's a bit... It's embarassing." You hesitated, visibly flustered but she squeezed your arm in reassurance.

"Come on! Don't be like that, it's gonna be so much fun!" She grinned at you and she knew you could hardly resist or refuse her anything. "Y/N, please? It'll be so worth it babygirl, trust me."

You gulped and nodded. Oh well, what's the worst that could possibly happen?

"A-aah!! I-... I can't do this...!"

"Ughh... Come on, bebé, just like that, yes...Yes!"

Very suggestive noises of the two cellmates echoed in the room and throughout the prison corridors. A wanton mix of grunts and whimpers and moans. What could be going on in this prison?

"I-Ah!... Aaah, no~!" You whined breathlessly and Hermes groaned right after you, accompagnying you in your, quite strange, string of sounds.

"Yes! That's it, Y/N! Do that again!"

"Hermes, I-...nnghh!! Fuck!"

"You gotta move like this Y/N! Yeah, r-right there! Aah! Perfect!"

Some guards on walking duty were passing by and stopped, alerted by the horrendous noises, easily heard by anyone nearby, and that left very little, if not nothing to the imagination.

"A-aah please! Hermes! I can't-..." You gasped, your voice leaving you, "No more..."

Hermes, motivated, encouraged you further, purring, "No, no, you're doing great babe... Hmmm...That's what I like to see... Ah yes..!"

The guards hurried up to the cell you two were dwelling in and banged loudly on the metal door in hopes to shut you up.

"What the hell is going on here?!" One guard screamed and tried to check inside the room. But you girls were hidden right against the door, underneath the frame and perfectly in the guards' blind spot.

You two stiffled a laugh and continued on whatever you were doing. Yes. The plan was coming together amazingly.

Hermes was currently showing you some 'magic tricks' with playing cards. You were of course, completely failing and clumsily dropping the cards all over the place after trying your best to swipe and hold them in a way that would make any spectator blind to your misdirection and believe the cards were disappearing in your hands.

The Mexican was surprisingly good at these card tricks, things that she learned during her childhood, but she decided to add a little... spice to your teaching session. Something that would drive the prison staff nuts. Something that would make you pass time wonderfully in this boring prison.

"I can't do this, Hermes, we... We have to stop!" You cried with a hitched breath and the dark-skinned girl shushed you.

"Shhh. Relax, Y/N. You're too tense. Curl your fingers a bit. Oh-Yeah... Just like that... Aah~... See?"

"Yo-you're too good at this..."

"Let me teach you, guapa." She rasped and you let out an exaggerated ragged moan that she had to muster all her self-control to not burst into a laughing fit. What an actress you were.

"AAAHH~!"

The other guard came in to join his partner after leaving to call for help and you two could hear them bickering over what to do. The youngest, after getting insulted way too many names, eventually walked off again to call the supervisor.

"Come here supervisor! I heard them! Those two are at it as well!"

"Those damn lesbians, I'm so fucking tired!" The first guard commented as the supervisor stomped towards your cell and grumbled.

"I swear, these fucking girls are all so horny!" The man punched at the door, almost breaking it off its hinges and making you both flinch under the door. "HEY! MOVE AWAY FROM THE FUCKING DOOR YOU SLUTS!"

You put your hands over your mouths to silence your endless snickers and hurriedly got up, getting into the supervisor's view in front of the door's barred frame and forcing straight faces out of you.

"A problem, sir?" Hermes asked as calm as ever, her smirk effectively washed off her face.

"What the FUCK were you two doing in there?!" He growled, clearly not amused and way too busy to deal with that kind of joke.

"Nothing sir. We're playing with cards. Are we not allowed to?" She feigned as she tilted her head slightly, quirking an arrogant eyebrow. She too, was quite the actress.

"Tch, you freaks, I'm coming in." The supervisor fumbled messily with the keys and unlocked the door, missing the keyhole at least three times before succeeding, opening it wide and checked you two up and down scrutinizingly.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Neither of you looked disheveled in the slightest, and there were indeed cards sprawled onto the floor and in your hands.

He let out a suspicious drawn-out grunt and squinted his eyes at you, pointing an accusing finger at you two as he slowly backed out the door.

"I got my eyes on you, Costello, L/N. Don't you fucking mess with me." He hissed before slamming the door and locked it, walking away with the other guards close behind him.

When they were all out of earshot, you two finally burst into a laughter that you had been desperately containing as you slid back against the door, holding your stomach with pain from laughing so much.

"Man, we really got them!" Hermes obnoxiously sneered and you could only laugh back, contaminated by her laughter.

"Yeah! It was genius! And the overly lewd noises too! He was so red!" You added between laughs and slapped her arm playfully.

You both continued until your laughter died down a bit. You kept giggling softly and Hermes leaned over, smirking at you.

"Well," She purred and you looked back at her with wide eyes as she slid her hand up and down your thigh sensually. "Since they won't suspect a thing now, let's just get into the real deal, you're okay with that babe?"

And just like that, she grabbed your wrist and gently pinned you to the floor, connecting your lips with hers in a hungry and wet kiss.

And indeed, they did not suspect a thing after that.

Bonus:

"So Y/N is a bottom, huh?" Jolyne sneered as you all sat together at the cafeteria at lunchtime.

You gasped and blushed and Hermes wore her favourite expression. The smug one.

"I don't know what bottom is, but if Y/N is that I guess I approve." F.F said her straw between her lips before she slurped her drink again.

"Shut up. All of you!"

To be honest I didn't know what the Mexican accent sounded like until I started hanging out with @gio-is-writing and ??? Hello? Cute? Sexy? Be mine already.

[orangerosebush]

Sturm und Drang

In hindsight, Butler should have realized it would only be so long before his charge grew bored with life within the manor. Artemis Fowl I had made sure the Fowl estate was well stocked with the finest things their fortune could afford: the kitchen had aromatic spices from every inch of the globe; the library was practically bursting with esoteric texts; the walls were adorned with beautiful tapestries and paintings. Artemis Fowl I had beaten the world down so that it fit within the stone walls of Fowl manor, and in theory, his wife and son had to want for nothing. When Angeline had been younger, Butler remembered her leaving on weekend trips to visit her family or friends, but after her son was born, it seemed like she was content to retreat into the beautiful dollhouse her husband had fashioned around her. Perhaps the reality of who her husband was and where she lived had finally sunk in, Butler mused, carrying the tea tray. At least inside she didn’t have to think about the sectarian violence broiling in Northern Ireland, or the heating-up Cold War, or the vile things her adoring husband had done to pay for their life in the manor.

Butler poked his head into the Fowl study, rapping a hand against the door frame. At the desk inside, Artemis Fowl II was curled up in his father’s ornamented leather armchair, nose buried in a book. The boy’s ears perked up at the sound, but he didn’t look up from his reading.

“You weren’t at lunch,” Butler remarked, stepping inside.

“I apologize,” Artemis said, his young voice cold and clipped in a way Butler had never stopped thinking of as strange. “I was busy.”

You’re seven years old, Butler thought, setting the tray down on the mahogany desk. Busy?

“Your mother missed you,” he said instead, and Artemis lowered his book, eyes almost guilty.

“I promise that I will be at dinner.”

“You should eat,” Butler ordered, pushing the tea and toast closer to the boy. Artemis hesitated for a moment, but he finally obliged, taking a small bite out of the portion of the toast with the least amount of jam on it. Artemis chewed thoughtfully, setting the food back down on the plate and pointedly nudging it away. Butler pressed his lips into a thin line. Thank Christ that at least Juliet wasn’t a picky eater.

“May I ask you a question, Butler?”

“Always, Artemis.”

“Where does Father go when he leaves on business?” Artemis inquired, and Butler sighed. He moved the tray on the table, making room for him to rest his weight against the desk.

“He’s on a business trip, Artemis. He’s told you this.”

“Where does he go, though? He won’t tell me what his ‘business’ is.”

Butler shrugged. “Your father told me the same thing.”

Artemis looked at him shrewdly. “I don’t think I believe that, Butler.”

“That’s too bad,” Butler admitted. “Because that’s all I’m going to tell you.”

“You work for me, though,” Artemis argued, brow furrowed. “If you do know more, then you must tell me.”

Frowning, Butler leaned back. “I protect you. I work for your father.”

Sensing that he’d offended, Artemis tried to backpedal. “I… no one will tell me, Butler. Why? I simply want to know more about my father.”

His bodyguard considered Artemis' plea.

“I’m sorry if I seemed dismissive,” Artemis wheedled, prodding further. “I’m… I’m just curious.”

Despite being fully aware Artemis’ apology was motivated more so by ulterior motives than it was by genuine compunctions, Butler softened.

“I know you must miss him,” he relented.

Artemis perked up, sensing he’d succeed in wearing down Butler’s earlier decision.

Butler ignored the voice of Madam Ko in the back of his mind. He wondered if he could absolve himself for a brief moment of weakness surrounding his bodyguard principles.

Artemis was just a boy, Butler thought. And a smart one at that. He doubted that there was a child on earth that could be satisfied with simply artifacts from the outside world.

Reaching to ruffle his charge’s hair, Butler almost smiled at the way Artemis scrunched up his face.

“Why must you and Mother persist in doing that?” Artemis complained.

“Just another grown-up thing, I guess,” Butler ventured, humming good-naturedly when Artemis scoffed.

“What are you reading?” Butler asked after a moment, changing the subject. Artemis glanced back at his book, debating his next course of action. Finally, his excitement surrounding the book he’d been reading won out over his desire to continue pushing Butler regarding his father.

Artemis spun the novel around, allowing Butler to examine it properly. “It’s a collection of short stories by Kenzaburō Ōe. Right now I am on ‘Lavish Are the Dead’.”

Butler nodded, picking up the work and mentally filing the name away. He was nearly positive Artemis fell very short of the intended age demographic.

“What’s it about?”

Artemis’ eyes lit up. “The subject material varies, but the tone is similar between the stories. Ōe’s style is very derivative of French existentialists. I like him more than Sartre and Camus, however.”

“Camus wrote ‘The Stranger’, right?” Butler surmised, looking at Artemis for confirmation. “Read that book during university. I’ve never forgotten the way the author described the old man’s sickly dog. Poor animal,” Butler reproved, tsking.

Artemis nodded. “Yes, that was Camus. ‘Lavish Are the Dead’ is similarly macabre in the service of its philosophy.”

Butler thumbed to the first page of the short story to which Artemis referred. He narrowed his eyes, reading silently. Artemis continued on, unconscious of Butler’s increasingly deepening frown as the man scanned through gruesome paragraph after paragraph.

“I suppose it can be read in many ways. One view would be that it’s a meditation on the forgetting of the Pacific War, despite the violence’s profound impact on the cultural psyche. However, it could also be read as the submerged presence of the Korean War in Japanese society, memory, and culture. I’d argue both critiques come mainly from the perspective of the intellectual establishment, be it that it is both Ōe and the protagonist studied French literature at the University of Tokyo.”

“Artemis,” Butler said slowly, resisting the urge to rub his temples or to throw the offending text from the room. “This is about dead bodies being kept in the medical faculty of a university.”

His charge tilted his head, blinking owlishly. “On a literal, textual sense, I suppose so, yes.”

Butler made a face, putting the book down. “It’s not appropriate for you. It’s… too much. You’re too young to be reading something like this.”

“I asked Father. He’s the one who brought it back from Tokyo,” Artemis offered lightly.

Butler floundered, unsure.

To push the matter, Butler would have to either insinuate the Fowl patriarch was so absentminded as to not curate the reading material of his son or he would have to insinuate that the man had made an incorrect call in judgment. Either would be a challenge to Artemis Sr.’s authority. Either would be making a statement on which of the two had more of a say over Artemis’ behavior. An absentee father or a paid caretaker — Artemis was beginning to test the waters of which of the two men had more of a claim to be the male figure to whom he deferred, Butler realized.

Artemis watched Butler, waiting for a response.

“I see,” Butler noted, being careful to keep his tone even. Artemis’ eyes widened, a motion that would have been nearly imperceptible had Butler not been searching for a reaction on the boy’s face.

The surprise vanished from Artemis quickly, and his eyes narrowed. “Oh?”

Rising, Butler pushed the book back towards Artemis. “Yes. If he approved the book, then I am fine with it.”

“You have no further opinion on the matter?” Artemis pressed.

Butler shrugged. “I’m just your bodyguard. Is my private attitude towards the matter necessary?”

A completely bullshit statement.

Butler knew that.

Artemis knew that.

Hell, it was likely even Artemis Sr. knew that.

Butler blamed Artemis Sr., just a bit. Usually, the Fowls and Butlers were closer in age. As eerily as the young Fowl might present himself, it was hard to not feel parental twinges towards the boy when Butler’s primary duties as a bodyguard were mundane things — things like keeping Artemis from skinning his knees around the house or preparing meals for him and Juliet. The Major and Artemis Sr. were unambiguously boss and bodyguard, but Butler, who had to force himself to not subconsciously categorize both Artemis and Juliet as his kids, and Artemis, who knew his father as a visitor to the house instead of a permanent fixture? Their dynamic was undoubtedly more fraught, unspeakably more complicated to unpack.

But Butler couldn’t bring himself to give words to his failure. To do so would make it irreversible. It’d be the final nail in the coffin he’d fashioned for himself.

So he pushed the tea tray closer to Artemis, quietly getting up to leave.

Disappointed, Artemis moved to pick his book back up, returning to his previous activity.

Pausing in the doorway, Butler turned, faltering.

Artemis didn’t lower the book, but his eyes tracked Butler’s every movement like a hawk. “Yes?”

“Artemis,” Butler began, hand curling around the doorframe with uncharacteristic timidity. “Your father said he’d be home tonight. You can ask him about his trip at dinner.”

“...Will you be joining us?”

“No.”

“I see,” Artemis commented neutrally, fixing Butler with a pointed stare.

Ignoring the way his feelings stung, Butler let his hand fall from the door, turning away.

“Make sure that you eat your lunch, Artemis,” Butler said at last, weary.

“Mhm.”

Both the toast and the tea remained untouched.

[writerthreads]

How to write POC characters, by a POC writer

by Writerthreads on Instagram

This post will be our second attempt at doing this topic. This time will be more of a discussion where I don't tell you what to do but allow you to think about how you can write about a POC character. I will be tackling these four questions: 

What makes someone their race/ethnicity?

How should writers mention their race/ethnicity?

How can you avoid whitewashing POC characters?

Should White authors write POC main characters?

It is important to note that I am a teenager who’s from Hong Kong (and lives there right now), so I don't experience racism towards myself as I'm not an ethnic minority where I live. My experiences as an East Asian will be different from other POC. My opinion is my personal opinion, which doesn't speak for everybody in my community, let alone the entire POC/BIPOC community.

What makes someone their race?

Race: "A grouping of humans based on shared physical or social qualities into categories generally viewed as distinct by society."

Ethnicity: "a grouping of people who identify with each other on the basis of shared attributes that distinguish them from other groups such as a common set of traditions, ancestry, language, history, society, culture, nation, religion, or social treatment within their residing area." 

Someone of a particular ethnicity might have specific habits, eat or not eat particular kinds of foods, take part in unique customs or speak a certain language, amongst other characteristics that "makes someone a certain ethnicity". 

However, just because they don't do any of these things doesn't immediately make them not a part of that ethnicity. I know many friends who are from Hong Kong but can't speak or understand our native dialect or speak Mandarin fluently. This doesn't make them less of a Hongkonger. 

When you're writing a POC character, you can talk about ethnic-specific things the character does, for example, celebrate holidays like Diwali or Lunar New Year. It is essential to know the customs that come with these festivals and how they differ between regions or countries. 

Universal celebrations, such as birthdays, can also have different traditions. For example, my mum's region-specific culture in China dictates that people eat noodles on their birthdays because noodles are long and represent long lives.

How should writers mention their race/ethnicity?

To me, race is literally just the physical characteristics of a person. However, writers are often criticised for describing too little of a POC character's physical features or not mentioning that they're a particular race, making the character appear "too white". Some authors have also been criticised for failing to describe BIPOC characters adequately, for example calling darker-skinned BIPOC characters "tan". 

Commenters on our Instagram account have pointed out that skin tones shouldn't be described with edible words, such as "caramel", "chocolate" or "coffee". However, it is fine for hair colours. 

I think the author should explicitly point out a character's race or, at a bare minimum, describe them appropriately. The writer can also choose to use specific last names that help readers identify the particular character's ethnicity. There can also be variations of a surname that point out where the character is from. For example, "Li" is Mandarin Chinese, "Lee" is Cantonese, Lê is Vietnamese, and the surname is transliterated to Lai or Lye in Central and South China.

Sometimes, POC characters are portrayed with stereotypes. I guess stereotypes all start with an element of truth, but they don’t represent the entirety of the stereotyped group. For example, my year group’s further pure maths school is entirely asian people (with the exception of three biracial kids and one who dropped out). There is an issue of where a personality trait becomes a stereotype, and it up to the writer and the beta readers to decide. Personally, I would love to see characters who break stereotypes, but I understand if POC characters have a stereotypical trait as long as it is portrayed well.

How can you avoid whitewashing POC characters?

Sometimes when I read a story about a POC main character, they don’t seem to be of that race or ethnicity apart from their physical features. They act like every other person in their community, and that’s totally okay. But as a person of colour, I think it’ll be nice to have different kinds of POC characters, some who might switch between languages or some who don’t know how to speak their mother tongue. 

If there’s a character who is presented as “too white”, why are they “too white”? Justify their “whiteness” with external or internal factors, which could be the fact that they really want to fit in or they have just been brought up in an environment where their culture isn’t really represented. Explain to the readers how these factors have impacted their perception of their culture and their identity, and identify problems with oppression and the necessity of representation.

I really liked the portrayal of Asian-American/Canadian families in Fresh Off the Boat and Kim’s Convenience, if you’re interested, you can watch them on Netflix or another streaming service. I think TV shows are better as there are different stories within the storyline as opposed to one main fictional plot with subplots in books and movies.

Should White authors write POC main characters?

As far as I’m aware, there’re two different points of view: “poor representation is better than no representation”, and “poor representation is more harmful”.

People who think that poor representation is better seem to think that having representation ensures that non-POC readers are exposed to more diverse castings, even though they are inaccurately portrayed. If these books are turned into TV shows or movies, POC actors will be used, which benefits them. However, there are more people who think that poor representation is worse because the characters don’t really represent us POC people. 

In my opinion, as long as the portrayal of POC characters aren’t harmful but just not enough, I think it’s OK as long as nobody is misguided about us or any race/ethnicity in particular. If you’re a white author writing POC characters, also run your draft with POC beta readers to make sure what you’re writing is politically correct. Use multiple POC beta readers, because one might find something un-offensive when another might. 

I encourage White authors to write about POC characters but not stories about being a person of colour. This is because they don’t really understand what is is being a person of colour and have to rely on resources that might be inaccurate. They can only offer a limited perspective, and this argument can also be applied to straight people writing LGBTQ+ characters. (I’m straight, confirmed by bi friend)

Before I end this post, I would like to remind you once again that this is purely my opinion, and you are free to disagree with anything if you know what you’re saying. (and you’re not a White person deciding on what’s racist or not) 

[crtter]

Haven’t written my review for the new episode yet! It was another skit compilation, this time with a special focus on AUs (hence Cosplaymatsu, I believe!). There were a lot of skits, some I like more, some I like less, but overall... I’d say it was a pretty solid episode! Lots of skits means I have a lot to say so... sorry in advance for the lengthy post, heh.

In the Nothing-I-Can-Do-Police skit, Jyushimatsu and Choromatsu, in the roles of neighborhood passerbys, try to dissuade a certain desperate side character from jumping off a building. A passing policeman, played by Ichimatsu, is ill-suited to de escalate the situation though, given that he’s even more disenchanted with life than the to-be-jumper is.

Despite the heavy subject, was pretty funny to me. I wasn’t expecting to see the infamous Atsushi OR one of the Sutabaa barista girls in incidental roles like that, so that was a funny surprise. I thought Choromatsu and Jyushimatsu’s old men designs were very appealing as well. The ending was a bit predictable given the fact it’s Osomatsu-san and the thing the brothers resent the most is other people’s luck in love but I felt like it tied the whole thing together pretty well.

In The Hell?! Maid, Karamatsu is surprised when Chibita’s oden stand seems to be have rebranded itself as a Maid Oden Stand. Chibita, however, seems to be taking the maid role very seriously.

I know a lot of people dislike “boy character dresses up as a girl” jokes, very understandably so (and me included), but I personally thought Chibita dressing up as a café maid and performing the café maid role so well had a much more endearing tone than a mocking one. The humor of the skit wasn’t due to Chibita dressing up as a maid, but more due to how ill-suited oden is as a food item for a café setting and how clashing Chibita’s rude mannerisms are next to a maid’s cutesy ones, something I appreciated a lot.

Maid cafés are basically a staple of anime these days, so I also appreciated seeing Ososan’s take on it! To top it all off, we hadn’t seen Karamatsu and Chibita interact one on one like that ever since... season one? Karamatsu makes for a very good straight man next to Chibita’s particular brand of weirdness and it’s always a delight seeing those two together. Well, it’s always a delight seeing a Chibita skit, period. I just love the little guy. Definitely my favorite out of all the skits!

In No-Chance Trial, Osomatsu is brought to court to be judged for... farting crimes. Prosecutor Choromatsu and Defense Attorney Karamatsu eventually reach the agreement it’s not THAT bad of a crime. Judge Todomatsu, however, feels like the only appropriate punishment is the death penalty.

Another solid skit! I really liked the Ace Attorney references (even the BG music resembled the music of the games!) and Todomatsu’s insistence on getting Osomatsu killed for his insistent farting in his general presence got some good laughs out of me. There wasn’t a big side character presence in this episode with the exception of Chibita’s, but I liked Totoko, Nyaa-chan and Dobusu as members of the jury, and the Riceball robots as stenographers. The ending was, as Ososan is famous for, hilariously gross.

In Reborn As a Mosquito, Choromatsu is, as implied by the title, turned into a mosquito isekai-style when he laments not being able to find a girlfriend. As a mosquito, he’s free to bite pretty ladies whenever he wants to! That is... if he can bring himself to do such a uncouth thing.

This one didn’t amuse me THAT much, but it was a fairly decent skit. I liked seeing Choromatsu having second thoughts about doing something pervy for like, once in his life, heh, even if the devil on his shoulder tried to convince him otherwise. The double joke of him hating the taste of blood AND being killed right after that got a “ha!” out of me. Not my favorite and fairly uneventful but not a bad skit.

In Mister, Osomatsu is a local unemployed bum who entertain the neighborhood kids, played by his brothers, by making picture card shows in exchange for pachinko balls. The story he tells them eventually hits a little too close to home, though.

Not my favorite either, but I liked everyone’s designs a lot, and it was fun seeing the original tortoise and the hare fable getting more and more complicated as Osomatsu ends up making it about his life instead. Now, this is a VERY “me” complaint, and I’ll understand it if people don’t agree with me but! I felt like that was a role that would be better suited for Iyami. I mean, think about it! He’s already an unemployed bum living in a shabby house who’s bothered by local children in pretty much all his incarnations. It’d be perfect for him! But maybe I’m just a little miffed he didn’t show up.

Also, I feel like this might be a reference to something? I’ve definitely seen a very similar “local poor man puts on picture card shows for children” story in manga before. I’m going to look more into it to see if it’s a “thing” I’m not aware of.

In I-Do-What-I-Want Bartender, Todoko and Ichiko try to get a drink at a bar, just to find out the bartender, Karamatsu, fancies himself as an artist and refuses to serve them what they ask for, instead making fancy, elaborate drinks.

I liked seeing the Girlymatsu again! You know... even if it was just 33.33% of them, heh. This one wasn’t all that eventful either, but the joke felt pretty solid and I thought Karamatsu having so much trouble not acting on his “vision” and serving the girls what they asked for was pretty funny. Him loudly complaining thinking they couldn’t hear him was great as well.

In A Restaurant Filled With Mysteries, we see the return of Businessman Osomatsu, this time accompanied by Choromatsu as they try to get lunch in a foreign restaurant they can’t quite place where it’s from. Turns out that the restaurateur, a very unsual man from the unheard-of country of “Jyushimatsu”, isn’t going to make it easy for them.

I’ll be real: I felt like this could have... very easily taken a less-than-savory turn when it comes to mocking other cultures as “weird”, especially with the Indian-inspired imagery. In my opinion, they didn’t QUITE cross into shitty territory but they stayed... uncomfortably close to it. Reminded me a bit of the whole deal with the Oompa Loompas in the 2005 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie. The country was fictional, Jyushimatsu’s ethnicity was fictional (good call making him blue skinned) but... you know. They could have done it a little bit more tastefully. I did like the holes joke, though. It was a nice subversion of the whole “gross foreign food” trope that’s still so popular in cartoons and such.

Well, that’s it! Overall, more good points than bad points, in my opinion. Next episode seems VERY promising when it comes to Iyami but I’ll get into it into another post. This one’s too long already.

[aria-chicken-flugget]

Asked by @ghost-with-journals

Requesting a POC MC

A/N: I’m not a person of colour but i’ve often thought it disappointing that there aren’t more MC’s that are POC! I’m sorry my tumblr deleted your ask before!

This is actually my first request of an Ikevamp Boys React, so I hope I do your ask justice 💖 I actually love this idea.

I know your preference was Arthur! I wanted to do all the boys but thought to keep it to those whose routes i’ve actually read. Can add to when I read more! I hope this is what you were looking for 💖

~

How the Ikevamp Boys React to a POC MC

(Napoleon, Mozart, Arthur, Vincent. Isaac and others coming soon)

Napoleon

Sometime around 1799 Napoleon Bonaparte had spent over a year in Egypt and the Middle East for what would now be referred to as a military expedition

Knowing this, upon seeing you first brought back some long forgotten memories of his past during that time. When he was human.

Despite the pain that may bring, he quickly grew curious about you. He would hide it behind the whole “I’m just doing what Comte asked me to do, it’s a chore protecting you”

Really he can’t help but ask you a myriad of questions. “Where are you from?” And once opened up to you would tell you about some of his experiences too.

He loves the rich colour of your skin, and can’t help but find you magnetic.

He wonders if your children would be as beautiful

Would quite literally be your knight in shining armour were anyone to make any negative comment over the colour of your skin

May come off over protective if his sword is at someone’s throat for some tossed slurs

You’d grip his shoulders to bring him back from possibly quite literally murdering someone

“I- i’m sorry... it just makes me so angry.”

His knuckles would whiten. You’d hold his face in your palms, a warm smile

“And I love you for being so protective of me. But that doesn’t make killing them solve anything.”

He knew you were right. He’d sigh, having cooled off, and embrace you tightly with all the words he couldn’t say of just how much he loved you

Mozart

Mozart has toured Europe when he was but five years old, in order to perform. And yet, he’d still not seen someone nearly as beautiful as you.

It unsettled him, he wasn’t used to feeling such a way upon first glance and had to steel himself from staring at you.

Everyone was always the same, always the same mindless chatter at frivolous parties

But he somehow knew you’d be a breath of fresh air, with your smile actually being genuine for a start. You’re heart seemed kind

That is until, he met you and you’d touched his beloved sheet music, causing a stir

“It’s too loud with you here.” He’d claimed to you, ignoring the curious tug of his heart that had called for yours -

that was one thing he couldn’t see coming, how he gradually wanted to spend more and more time with the woman who touched his sheet music and now his heart.

What was it about you that knocked down the walls around his heart?

He supposed he’d never truly know, even though he somehow knew from the very moment he laid eyes on you that you were the one that would.

He wanted to know more about music from your time, and the difference in cultural and traditional music from around the world.

“What about you? Do you have any musical tradition, Mien Liebe?”

“What is this ‘Pop’ nonsense, it sounds atrocious and repetitive.” You’d laughed at his scrunched features after having sang him a modern Pop song.

Would cut down anyone with no remorse were they to comment inappropriately about your skin tone, at a ball he almost lost control

He nearly crushed the man’s hand with his vampiric strength, after bidding farewell to the rude man

He would go quiet for the carriage ride home, tense and seething in the silence.

You’d expected him to explode. Only he sighed quietly before admitting,

“And that’s what you have to listen to? Even in your time?”

You’d nod quietly, “Well, on the odd occasion, unfortunately yes. That can happen even in my time.”

He’d want to make it better, and you loved him for it

ArTHOT Arthur

Believes all women are the same in that they surrender to the same charms, however his belief is shaken upon getting to know you. 

He found you intriguing upon first meet, somehow more so than other women he’d met (not that he’d allow himself to believe that) 

Curious of your strange garments and the beauty of your sun kissed glow.

He’d found his most exciting conquest yet.

“Leaving so soon? If i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were helping her to escape... that’s a shame, I quite fancy the look of you little bird.”

Would likely say terms that were used to refer to POC in his era, without realising that it’s not ok to use said terms

His heart would literally break if he had hurt you, quickly realising his ignorance to how those terms were never right to use in the first place but were unfortunately normalised then

“I... I’d never meant to hurt you, love. I’m sorry.” At your knees, his cheek against your palm as his chest ached

You’d smile, havung already forgiven him

“Don’t be daft, Arthur. I know you didn’t mean it.”

You’d tug him back up with a half hearted reproach and see the melancholy that his frivolity had brought him, melt away.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” He’d smile

After realising those terms were not appropriate, would quickly defend your honour, especially if you were too quiet to speak up

It warmed your heart watching the battle of wits between a stranger being rude and the unparalleled intellect of your boyfriend

“It don’t bother her anyway, look she’s not said otherwise.” “And you equate speechless behaviour with ‘not being bothered’ do you?”

You’d walk home hand in hand and rub soothing circles in his tense hand, knowing he was irked by ignorance

“One step at a time, eh old chap?” You’d jest, making his lips curve in a handsome smile as he agreed in an echo, “one step at a time.”

Vincent

Upon seeing you for the first time, he would find himself staring,

When you frown, a little nervous or uncomfortable he’d snap back to reality and realise how odd that would seem

Would catch himself quickly and admit to you, “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to be so rude as to stare at you. It’s just that... i’ve never seen such beauty...”

He would say this, entranced, reaching out to graze his fingertips upon the soft skin of your cheek

You’d be fixed too, wondering what genius flows through the eyes of the world famous painter

“Can I... can I paint you?”

His shy request in earnest as he dreamed of just how beautiful your skin tone would be against vibrant sunflowers

He painted them in your chocolate locks and all around you as you smiled sweetly in the middle of the sunflowers

The painting was breathtaking, just as his sweetness

Much like when confronted about being ‘an emotionless doll’ would not fully understand the gravity of biggoted words

Would, if you didn’t mind, ask you about them and Black History that he wouldn’t know much about prior

If a stranger tried to be rude or biggoted, they assumed they’d get away with it due to Vincent’s peaceful nature

Boy were they wrong lol

Vincent is canonically stronger than Theo and Shakespeare but that’s not a surprise so would throw hands real fast

The fight would have to be broken up before someone got seriously hurt - fyi, it wouldn’t be Vincent getting that hurt lol

A strange sense of pride swelled your chest at him defending you, despite you not approving him beating people up

You’d tend to any wounds, dabbing his cheek softly as he watched you with unwavering affection

You’d blush, “What?” His eyes growing sad, “Doesn’t it bother you?”

You’d pause mid air, a small sigh, “Well, yes sometimes. It would hurt me more if it was a friend though.”

“It’s not okay, but it’s made infinitely better by loved ones” you’d smile, before he’d cup your cheeks,

“There is nothing more in this world that i cherish, than you.” His fervour causing tears to prick at your eyes

“You don’t have to be strong all the time. If it hurts you, tell me.”

To be continued...

~

I will edit and add more boys when I read more, I hope this was ok 🙂💖

[alatismeni-theitsa]

You know what pisses me off about fancasts of greek mythology that use poc? They only care about the representation of random Americans. If they had actually bothered to talk to a greek person they would have easily found a bunch of greek poc to fancast the gods as. It's so transparent that they don't care about actual representation at all and only do it for #woke points

Big Post coming, I couldn’t resist :P

The US is the only country in the world and Greek culture is just a prop, with Greece not being a real country - except when we ship cheese :P Only the US exsits for them. They actually do what racist people do: they ONLY see colour. They don’t understand that a Black person in Canada and a Black person in Saudi Arabia couldn’t be more culturally different.

And yes, if they want to cast the gods or demigods as poc, it would be great if they casted people of Greek heritage! For example if Zeus has a child with a woman of Taiwanese heritage living in Greece then the child will be “biracial“, as they call it. There would be no issue for an Asian looking demigod in Greece. And even the gods, if they want, can appear as a different race, but I will elaborate a bit on that:

Now, as you know, I am against racebending in general (for all cultures). But I don’t have such a big issue when someone says “I feel comfortable worshipping gods as my own race” (something they bash Greek people for :P) or “I want to imagine what this god would look like if he lived for many years in Ghana“ or “This model of color gives me vibes of this goddess. Perhaps she could be one form of a goddess” etc. Because, as we know, the gods can take any form they want. If they go to Somalia they will be the only one white as milk in a radius of five kilometers. So they may want to transform and blend in.

But here comes my genuine question: How much could and how much should the Greek gods blend with other races and cultures when there is not this need to blend in? I don’t mean as a matter of worship but as characters on the media. Gods that in their depiction have been repeatedly depicted as White Mediterranean suddenly decide to go to Nigeria and pass as Nigerians because??? Isn’t that a type of appropriation of race? Like, using the appearance of another race because of aesthetics?

And what about the difference in culture? The Greek gods represent a set of values and habits from Greece. What do they have to do with the Korean values? (Obviously there are universal values and ethics but each culture prioritizes different stuff and sees virtue differently.) What do they even have to do with the local Korean pantheon?? People say “Greek gods are universal” and this means that, yes, everyone can worship them. But they also use that argument to say that those gods, their stories and values would fit in every society of the world. In a fictional work, that means going to Somali Muslim culture and telling them “your god is not real, you are actually praying to a set of gods your culture never knew”. Like, how much Persephone represents Somali culture and philosophy, ancient and modern? Does she even belong in this culture? And can she only belong there if you make her Black? If no, why do you change her race?

Let’s go for the opposite scenario. Let’s say a native Greek becomes a Hindu. Does that mean that they have the right to present Lakshmi as a white mediterranean and change her innate Indian values to Greek ones, in order to make her fit the Greek mindset? So, her Indian regalia should go and be replaced by ancient Greek ones or traditional Greek clothing?

I mean, if someone is to support race bending, it has to go both ways. But because Americans have equated the Greeks to white colonizers (bc they are light skinned) their gods are free real estate. They have created their own scale of what should be altered and what should not, even when it comes to deities and figures from other cultures. And because they have worldwide influence their system is imposed on us, too. And if we don’t like how they depict our figures, we are in the wrong.

Anyways, my point was: As you said, they are so desperate for woke points that they only change a superficial characteristic - skin tone / race - and then suddenly, supposedly, this Hellenic deity is part of another culture ?? Like, you put Hawaiian native clothing to a man, you name him Poseidon and it’s “representation for Hawaiians, yey!“ ??? Why would they even need Poseidon? They have Kanaloa but even if he has the same domain as Poseidon they are not the same. They are not interchangable, as those fancasts often suggest.

I don’t see any depth in those fancasts because they are so superficial, only taking appearance into account if they want to be labeled progressive. More than that, it’s a system “to set things right” by doing this coloring mix and match (notice I only said “color”, not “culture” or “set of beliefs”) in a naive attempt to stop discrimination.

If you want to elevate poc and be inclusive to other cultures, look to other cultures with non US American lens and learn how they view this difference in appearance. Then, you can talk to the poc of this culture and understand their needs. And of course those Greek poc could be cast as Greeks in movies, since this culture is part of their lives.

Finishing this infinite Τed Τalk, I would like to say that I really enjoy the mixing of cultures and I would be delighted to see stories where Greek gods/people visit other cultures or non Greek gods/people visit Greek culture. One of my fave posts in this blog is when Cretans and Nahuas joined in a song about freedom. So, in case someone didn’t get it, I didn’t say we couldn’t celebrate or take part in cultures that aren’t ours.

[lindendragonart]

AHIT Headcannons?

Hmmm, kinda vague question but I'll see what I can do. Oh actually, looking at my drafts I do have some space kids personality headcanons so I'm just gonna copy paste it here and add to it.

Some Hat and Bow personality headcanons, particularly for my au (which I'm probably gonna stockpile until I'm done)

While both Hat and Bow are both playful, as kids usually are, Hat is more outgoing, while Bow is more on the shy side, though she loves adventuring and making friends just as much as Hat does.

While both are generally kind people, Hat can be smug and mischevous sometimes, Bow can too, but milder and way less often, and she knows when to stop.

Hat means well, but sometimes she cannot properly read the situation or people's emotions which, along with her slight lack of social skills, can sometimes make her say things that are not completely appropriate for the situation at hand. Sometimes, what she says may even come off as a little brash. Bow is more emotionally intelligent out of the two of them, so she is better at properly handling certain social or emotional situations.

Their backstory I've basically taken from Lemonadesoda's fic "Hide and seek" except Bow is there too. In short, their parents died when they were little so they were left in the care of the parents' colleagues but they see the kids as an incovinience and don't pay much attention to them, one day an evacuation takes place on the colony and the kids accidentally get left behind. They put a ship together out of scrap and go to fly back home but get stuck on earth when they lose their Time pieces.

Bow is slightly taller than Hat

Oh! Just remembered, alien species headcanons! Got them saved on my phone

Alien society

Time pieces are generally used as spaceship fuel, to produce energy, and as a regular citizen you may have the right to reverse a recent, minor incident. Anything more mayor done by an unexperienced or hasty mind could have grave consequences (like Mustache Girl's unstable time rift which would have eventually collapsed and killed the whole planet)

All citizens are under a moral code where they are sworn to protect the proper flow of time. Only authorities authorized by the CEO of time may use the Time pieces for bigger scale endeavors such as reversing major catastrophies, but it's a slow process and by the time they fix one, a hundred more happen in just one sector alone, so don't get your hopes up about having your tragedy reversed.

The aliens actually did visit Earth centuries before, but they have a policy not to interfere with outside communities too much if their society hasn't technologically advanced enough yet, so as to not sully their natural progress or ruin their culture due to colonization or similar. They are allowed to essentially "hang out" should the native community be willing to continue benevolent contact, so they do end up sharing information about each others culture and technology, which is why Earth has an affinity for hats with special abilities like the alien society does.

The aliens also found out about cats while on Earth and they liked them so much they took some home, so now they are a semi-popular pet there. (look I just really needed to explain why Bow's default outfit is cat-themed)

The alien society has developed a vaccine that can permanently grant your immune system the ability to succesfully fend off most foreign diseases. These are also given to any outsiders joining their society to prevent them from immediatelly dying from their diseases. On the topic of that. All space travellers must go through a decontamination process before setting off, so as not to infect foreign worlds.

Alien biology

Aliens don't really keep track of their age unless it's for legal reasons due to all the time shenanigans that happen while traveling screwing with their passage of time, but generally speaking, aliens grow up at a similar speed to humans until they mostly stop growing at around 10-11 in Earth years, then they stay mostly the same until hitting a growth spurt at 15-16 that will continue until they hit 18-19.

Their blood is a kind of reddish+magenta, would definitelly look off to a human.

They come in all the skin tones humans can come in, with the addition of more pinkish skin tones

Most of them have saturated, brightly colored eyes like blue, red, yellow and purple. Brownish/ dull colored eyes are kinda rare, which is how you may be able to tell apart a human from an alien at first glance.

Their species has through the centuries of space-traveling adapted to being able to eat many things which may be poisonous to the average non-space faring creature, to ensure survival on a new world.

As we see in canon, they are incredibly strong compared to humans too.

Random headcanon about the horizon

The Horizon is a plane where all "magic" comes from. The aliens learned to harvest it and weave it into hat yarn long ago, while on Earth, the horizon leaks through in more impure forms, once the magic finds itself in a creature or object, it can form different characteristics depending on the person, forming the types of magic people like Vanessa and Snatcher wield. Having magic on Earth is kinda like having a symbiotic spirit that has no consciousness of its own. Earthlings do not understand most of it, and simply call it magic.

Also here are some Subcon headcanons but they will be short cause they are either widely known about or I talked about it before

Vanessa's mother was abusive and would lock her in the cellar (without chains) when she misbehaved. Vanessa had no control over her life which later made her possesive and controling towards the prince.

The Prince knows about Vanessa's mother being horrible to Vanessa but not the full extent of it.

Vanessa frequently guilt tripped the Prince with her own insecurities and how her mother treated her, and the Prince always either gave in because he didn't want to upset her further or got backed into a corner with it when he actually tried to defend himself, dismissing his own concerns as trivial.

Snatcher steals souls because Vanessa's powers are still running rampant and might even freeze the whole world if Snatcher doesn't use soul power to melt the ice. Kind of a "forced to become a monster to protect himself from one" situation.

Okay I hope that answered everything! Thank you for the ask