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babyrdie · 5 months

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ALERT OF HADES II SPOILER

Okaaaayyy....seeing a considerable number of people act shocked at how Odysseus is in Hades II and think it's something against Odysseus, and now I'm wondering if they actually paid attention in the first game…I know everyone talks a lot about Hades' art, but I didn't think that was because it was the only thing you guys were really paying attention to.

It makes sense to be disappointed that the characters weren't treated the way a fan would have liked (for example, I'm not a fan of Hades, but I don't really like the idea of him in the game although I understand why he's the way he is), but I think it's weird to be that surprised by it or treat it like it's personal. Hades never fully followed the myths. They didn't do this because they haven't read Homer or because they don't like Penelope or hate Odysseus…it's simply because they don't follow the myths authentically. They don't specifically have anything against Odysseus or Penelope, it's just the way they do things. If this were the first game, I would understand this being unexpected… but it's the second game, we already know that they won't faithfully follow the myths because they didn't do that in Hades I.

I'll admit that I also didn't expect what was done with Penelope and Odysseus, but it's not really such a "wow! I could never imagine!" when it comes to Supergiant (I'm playing the technical test, for context). And I hoped they would already be together without relationship conflicts, because I really wasn't looking forward to a repeat of Nyx and Chaos, Patroclus and Achilles, Orpheus and Eurydice. I know most people wanted this, but I think it would be lazy to repeat this and I'm still hoping to not have this quest, whether with Odypen or other characters. And yet, even if I didn't expect it, I don't think it's as unexpected for Supergiant as some are making it seem.

Examples:

Melinoe and Zagreus are children of Persephone and Hades, and in mythology they aren't children of Hades.

Zagreus and Dionysus aren't the same person. The game makes humans believe that they're because the two played a prank on Orpheus, which made him invent a song with that story. Clearly a joke on the Orphic hymns.

Theseus is proud to be a demigod, but Poseidon denies that he's his father. Clearly a joke with the different versions of Theseus' birth, in which some he is Poseidon's demigod and others he's mortal.

Persephone is the daughter of Demeter and a mortal, not Zeus. For that reason, she and her children bleed red rather than gold.

Persephone isn't actually kidnapped by Hades. The kidnapping was an act that went wrong. Yeah, Odysseus wasn't the first character to have his non-con and dub-con aspect erased.

Achilles has a different personality than in myths. The game explains this as him maturing in the afterlife.

Patroclus is distant instead of communicative as in the myths, also explained by post-death events.

Asterius (Minotaur) is much more humanized than in the myths and he and Theseus are best friends.

There is a character heavily implied to be Medusa (Dusa) and she definitely doesn't behave like a monster.

Sisyphus is a kind and helpful guy, which is explained in the game with him having regretted his actions after his years of punishment.

Artemis and Callisto are on good terms even though they ended tragically in mythology.

Hades has a much more difficult personality to deal with than in mythology.

Thanatos, Megaera (one of the furies) and Zagreus are in a romantic relationship, which definitely doesn't exist in the myths.

The last aspects of the weapons to be unlocked do not even make reference to Greece, but to other figures. For example, the Twin Fists have the "aspect of Gilgamesh", a figure who is definitely not Greek.

Aphrodite says "You do know that I'm married, don't you love? I forgive you if you didn't. For my husband, he's always... busy with his work. I'm grateful that you are there for me to talk to" about Hephaesthus...her husband, she says. Hephaestus and Aphrodite are often divorced in mythology, including in Homer. And it's not because it wasn't yet at the time they got divorced, after all the Trojan War had already happened and they were already divorced at that time.

Also, they clearly don't use Homer as their only guide, so I don't know why you guys are saying "but Homer!" Patrochilles is there and not really canon in the Homeric tradition, but in Classical Greece they were considered a couple in certain sources (Aeschylus mainly). They use the name Asterius for the Minotaur (something Pausanias mentions, for example) although it wasn't the most common, they play with the various versions of Theseus' lineage, they reference Orphic hymns, etc. Like…it's really VERY obvious they took inspiration of more than one source.

On the Supergiant website, part of the Hades presentation is "Greek myth comes from stories of ancient gods and heroes filtered through new points of view; we’re excited to share ours." This already makes it more than evident that certain aspects were purposefully changed. It wasn't a surprise even before Hades I was released, for anyone who bothered to read it.

On Twitter, Kasavin (Creative Director) has already said that "it is a concerted effort over time, although Hesiod and Homer were very significant among the many authors we explored", which makes it clear that they don't focus on a specific source, although he recognizes that Homer and Hesiod are very influential.

In an interview available at Rock Paper Shotgun, he even said that he read more than one translation of the Odyssey and cites other sources like Diodorus Siculus.

Also, Odysseus cheating Penelope isn't even a modern invention, there were already versions of this in the Bibliotheca of Pseudo-Apollodorus (I'm talking about Callidice). And giving an unpopular opinion here: while I agree that Calypso in The Odyssey is undeniably an SA situation, Circe is more debatable than you guys like to make it out to be, it isn't undeniably. Both the interpretation that there was SA and the interpretation that there was no SA are valid, because the text itself doesn't make it explicit as it does with Calypso. In Circe's case, not necessarily not making it a relationship with SA makes it something that deviant from the myths.

Again because I don't want to be misinterpreted: what I'm taking issue with here isn't the disappointment in how Odysseus was portrayed. This is valid! I'm questioning the idea that this was done because they don't know about the myths or that it was something specific to Odysseus and Penelope. They know the myths, they just purposefully choose not to be completely authentic. They have nothing specific to Odysseus and Penelope, which is precisely why they aren't exempt from the changes they also made to other characters. They are no more special than Persephone, Hades, Zagreus, Melinoe (to name a few who had changes), that's why they receive the same treatment (that is, being changed).

I would never recommend Hades to someone who wanted complete authenticity to the myths. I wouldn't do that because I KNOW that's not the game's purpose. I thought everyone else knew too. You don't go to a vegetarian restaurant that you knew was vegetarian because you had eaten there before and be surprised because they don't have real meat dishes, be serious.

Edit (01/05): guys, you're talking about Epic, but I admit that I've never even heard that musical and I'm not part of the fandom. So I don't really know if Epic has an influence on that mindset 🤔and also my reblog develops a little more what I think based on Hades I if anyone is interested in theories for the narrative.

#Hades game #Hades II #Hades 2 #Supergiant #Really surprised at how surprised people are #Sounding a bit combative here maybe #Birdie.txt

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mechaknight-98 · 8 months

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Masquerade

Author note: I am sorry, but Tifa Sejeong. I had this in my drafts and was going to delete it until today. Also this takes place in the same plotline as Rash revelries and a few other stories I have coming out.

Part II here

Well, this was certainly a new one. A cosplay Party was not on my bingo calendar for 2024 but here I am. Going to a cosplay party on short notice because a friend invited me. Surprisingly the first face I see is a familiar one. My friend Gallahad or Gally for short dressed in a Gilgamesh from Eternals Cosplay. I wave and he confidently smiles at me and walks over. He and Vlad are Probably the next closest to my height due to his basketball-playing father. He puts me in a friendly headlock. Gone is the timid boy I knew a few months ago instead of a confident man who stands tall.

“Danger so glad you could make it. Killer Django cosplay,” he says proudly. I nod and respond,

“Well I didn't have much time to come up with something, but it came out pretty good,” you compliment Gally’s costume, but before Galahad and I can catch up. Two exceptionally attentive and attractive ladies walk our way. “Gally who’s this? The shorter darker skin of the two girls asked

“Oh Jihyo this is Dangerfield Malcolm Baldwin Jr but we just call him Danger,” Galahad explained the girls nodded and the taller paler one addressed me

“덴가?” Sana asked Galls. Gally nodded not noticing. “He’s tall I wonder if she’ll like that. Anyways I’m Sana nice to meet you 덴가. Also love the cowboy cosplay by the way. You rock it.” The taller girl oozed charm and guile. Had I not known that she was in a throuple with Jihyo and Galahad I’d have thought she was flirting with me.

Jihyo approached me next she sized me up for a few minutes then tilted her head and stepped back pleased with what she saw. I turn back to Sana say thank you to her and ask Galahad about the party, but before I can get a word in his two girlfriends pull him away. Something about “needing to find her”

“Oh, sorry Danger gotta go. You know the drill,” Gally says. I don't but I wave him off regardless as his two girlfriends take him upstairs for God knows what. Before isolation could set in I was approached by another partygoer in a cowboy cosplay. Being an insane movie buff I recognized it as Park Do-won or (the good) from the movie “The Good The Bad and The Weird” he seemed friendly introducing himself as Max McDaniels. I smile at him as he says

“Killer Cowboy outfit what show or movie are you from?” he asks in English. I am not surprised by this being one of the few “black” people present at that party. It made sense everyone assumed I was American. I was, but it was still interesting to see the assumptions made.

“Django from Django unchained,” you say. Max’s eyes light up with elated recognition

“I love that movie!” he exclaims to me. I crack a smile.. as I do I notice his eyes narrow and his gaze focused more intensely, “So who invited you? I'm pretty good friends with the hosts so I'm curious how you got in because I haven't seen you before.” Max added. His tone was pleasant but his energy was defensive. I deduced that he was asking because he was wary of me. Which fair? A big burly black man at a party full of very wealthy and famous people could be a red flag. So I take out my phone and show him the video of a very drunk Vladimir and an equally drunk Galahad inviting me to the party over social media. Following that I showed Mr. McDaniels the string of text messages of them becoming progressively sober and still asking me to come through. The implication was a lady was dying to meet me. Being a sucker for that sort of thing I made a mad dash.

“Oh, you're the videographer and stuntman Vlad mentioned. He called you Dangerfield, but he called you Danger in these videos.” Max questions.

I nod and explain to Max that Danger is my nickname. Max nods in understanding. “I'm sorry that makes so much sense now that I hear it sorry for commenting on it.”

Max and I share a chuckle over some of the messages of their apologizing for their drunk antics. After that Max became noticeably more relaxed around me. At this point, I feel comfortable enough to joke with him.

“So I know you are “Mr. Tough as Nails paleontologist who protects his people” but I would like to point out that you do know me.”I teased. Max looked at me confused before asking “Oh really from where?”

“You’re last two paleontologist digs,” I reply

Max looks at me confused. So I wait 5 minutes then another 2 before he finally recognizes me.

“Oh my God you're our videographer… the rugby dad hat guy. You always wear your college rugby “dad” hat,” he says excitedly. I nod

“I mean I do other things besides that. Like I filmed 2 out of your last 3 seminars. I also did a minor recording and B-roll for the last two digs” I teased further. Max's eyes widen even further as his face goes red.

“You are so right my bad. You're always so professional and don't speak much. Thank you so much for all the impressive work you do. I didn't realize never knew or asked your name. I'm also not used to you not wearing a dad hat,” Max says to me. I chuckle and before the friendship can take root Max is taken by his girlfriend. A pretty little thing named walks by us, “Hey honey who is this?”

“Oh, this is Dangerfield our videographer,” Max answers

“I thought Vlad did that?” the lady asks

“No, he does photography and records collection. Danger specifically does video.” Max replies

“Oh okay. He's handsome. I think she’ll like him.” the lady responds she turns to me and says hi

“Hello Mrs Jimin” I respond. Her eyes go wide.

“You know me.” Mrs. Jimin asks.

“Well yeah, you're a famous pop star,” I reply trying to be witty but not standoffish. Mrs. Jimin smiles and then says

“Well then call me Karina. We're friends now aren't we?” she said pleasantly. I give her a thumbs up and she laughs before turning back to Max focused “Babe we still have the drinks in the car we need to get.” she says. Max nods and goes with her

As he walks away he promises to talk to me later. Karina needed help as it was a lot of drinks according to her.

I was alone again. As I stand there alone I consider leaving until a slightly sober Vladimir crashes into me this time he is already with his girlfriend Natty whom he has met once before under bizarre circumstances. I smile at the couple wearing matching vampire costumes. Having done this dance already I decided to tease them

“Hey, Vlad are you also going to talk to me for a short bit then leave with your girlfriend?” I ask teasingly. Vlad looks at me confused before saying

“No that would defeat the entire purpose of why we invited you here. There was someone we wanted you to meet.” He says matter of fact before leading me to where she was

“Oh okay,” I say as I follow them

“So Danger Vlad tells me you’re also (insert cool term for half-blood here) .” I stop in my tracks and resist the urge to grab one of my revolvers and shoot both of them right there and now. Throwing that term out in the open always left me to trouble me. So I kept my identity and powers hidden as best as possible from those I didn’t know. Vlad notices my dead stop and clenched fist, and readily begins to ameliorate the situation.

“Yo Danger it’s cool she’s one of us. She’s a daughter of Vasundharā” Vlad explains, I scowl but relax. I begin to follow the couple as Natty says how much you’ll (me) love “her” ( the girl they are setting me up with). She also mentions how she is also an ascendant. It was then that I realized that Natty doesn’t know how different ascendant culture is in America. I groan and turn to Vlad

“Yo, she’s very liberal with her identity.” Vlad nods then remembers how I feel about secrecy

“Oh don’t be a scaredy cat nothing bad is going to happen.” As soon as Vladimir said that a loud boom echoed throughout the building I rolled my eyes at him and ran to the area where I heard the noise. The space is the front door and an Oni has appeared, and he is angry. He eyes me out of the bunch and points his kanabo at me.

“You. Thief” The one says slanted. I shrug.

“You dare mock me, thief. You stole the Yomi flames.” The one growls

“Mocking would require me to care. I don’t. Also, I didn't steal anything they were given to me voluntarily.” I replied the one slammed his weapon on the ground.

“You expect me to believe that you a puny human were given the flames of our land by my queen?��

“Well not given per se but I was allowed to learn them so I could copy them later, but that explanation makes less sense so can we skip the banter and just get down to fighting? I’m already bored.” The one charged. My response was that I took out one of my revolvers quicker than a blink and shot the creature in the head. The green eldritch energy flowed through me as it created the blast for the weapon. Which in turn creates the sickened bolt that tears through the Oni’s skull. The party was dead silent. Realization hits me as I remember this wasn’t a dig site I could just talk my way out of so I decide it’s probably best to not be here anymore. I spin the revolver out of habit before holstering it. I tip my hat

“Have a good night y’all,” I say as I leave. As I was racing to the front door I bumped into another person dressed as one of my favorite video game characters. She also seemed to be on her way out. I would later find out that her friends had convinced her to meet this guy but they had left her alone to find him leaving her at the mercy of a bunch of “weirdos” (her words not mine) who made her uncomfortable so she was desperate to get out. She sees me and smiles politely before saying “Nice cosplay.” hoping I wouldn't also be a “weirdo”

I nod back then respond “You as well…wait is that Tifa?” I asked the lady as I recognized the outfit. The young lady smiles with eyes brighter than the sun

“Yeah good eye, you’re the first one to recognize it. Good job.” the girl responds with two thumbs up. She looks up at me with a smile.

“How could I not?” she's like one of my favorite characters in all of gaming”

The Tifa cosplayer smiles, “well then you have great taste then.” she says

“Me? look at you (I walk around her to get the full view) This quality is insane.” I reply hyping her up. The Tifa cosplayer smiles brightly and turns to me with a cocky smirk.

“Oh, flattery will get you everywhere. So what’s your cosplay?” The lady asks

“Oh, I’m Django. The D is silent” I say. Before taking out a revolver and spinning it around. The young lady laughs

“Like from the movie,” she asks I nod surprised. She smiles and adds “I love that movie.” I smile back dumbly admiring her taste in quality Westerns. The two of us stand awkwardly trying to figure each other out before deciding to get back to what the two of us were doing which was leaving the party. We do our awkward goodbyes and prepare to go our separate ways. as we are about to part my brain tells me if I don't ask her out now I'll never get another chance to. I take a chance. I ask if she’s hungry and knows any good food spots around here. The girl gives a hearty chuckle as she gets her car and gestures for me to get in.

We arrive at this small little fried chicken spot.

“Oh just because I’m black you assume I like fried chicken?” I say feigning offense. The lady looks at me in my face and says

“Fried Chicken is delicious I thought everyone liked it.” Her tone is flat as she stares at me confused. She then smiles and laughs making me realize she got I was joking. I joined her on laughing as well. I mean she got me fair and square after all

As I laugh I say “I can’t argue with that.” The lady smirks before saying “Good,” and we walk in.

“Oh hey Sejeong good to see you again. Your usual order I assume?” The person behind the counter says. Sejeong nods. She puts up two fingers. I'm guessing to order two of whatever her normal is (I'm assuming she never told me what the two fingers meant). I turn to the gorgeous (I forgot to mention that she is drop dead 2 gorgeous) lady and say

“Huh Sejeong like the…” and then it all clicks. I pause and get my bearings before repeating “Cool, cool, cool.” As I try not to fanboy over the megastar. Sejeong smirks and says

“Not so witty now huh?”

I pause before reflexively saying, “Hey it’s not every day you meet a K-pop megastar and go on a date with her.”

Sejeong laughs which I learned then is contagious, “Oh so this is a date?” She questions

I nod and fire back, “100% we are at a restaurant hoping to get to know each other. That’s the textbook definition of date.”

Sejeong playfully rolls her eyes laughs and says, “That's true. I’m glad I met you. My friends wanted me to meet this guy who they swore I’d love. They left me at the party to find him leaving me to deal with weirdos like you.” Sejeong says wistfully. “I should have figured their last recommendations have been okay at best” Sejeong adds

I nod and explain how I was at the party to be introduced to someone.

“Oh really what’s your name? If you say Danger or Dangerfield. I’m going to laugh.”Sejeong teases

In kind, I responded, “How did you know my name lady?” Sejeong’s eyes flickered with excitement as they widened. as she compartmented my existence in her mind. Our food arrived. After she’s done processing she asks me a simple question.

“So now that you’ve met me what do you think?” She said with a serious tone.

“Do I include Samantha and Rachel in my evaluation?” Sejeong stares at me wide-eyed. I laugh because see her trying to hide a bemused smile. Feeling a little miffed She goes to smack me but I just smile and take the hit.

“You’re lucky you’re funny.” She says. Sejeongg gestures for me to continue.

“Well, my heart tells me you’re amazing and I already have a crush on you despite knowing you personally all of (I look at my watch for added comedic value) 86 minutes. You’re witty, fun to be around, gorgeous, and overall a great time.” Seeing smiles blushes but then says

“What does your head say?” as she speaks her eyes narrow gauging my response. I decide to have fun with it.

“That’s less glowing. It's telling me that it would never work.“Dude, she’s a superstar what would she ever want from a guy like you? She just likes the attention.” is what my head says.” I respond

Sejeong nods and then asks, “So which will you listen to more?” I pause and respond

“If history is any guide then my heart, but I don’t know guess I’ll have to wait and see. I mean I’m open to anything from a one-night stand to a 100-year relationship. The only thing is it’s a two-person job.” Sejeong nods then says

“well I'm not looking for a one-night stand but I'm also not looking for a relationship right now, but you're pretty cool and I like your humorous honesty.” I smile and thank her. The food arrives. I pray before I eat which Sejeong comments on, “Oh a church boy.” Her tone is seductive and flirtatious but my brain automatically jumps to oh it’s a dealbreaker for her

“Is there something wrong with me being religious?” Momo shakes her head but then clarifies, “That depends on you. You’re not one of those weird religious people right?”

“I believe we have established I’m weird and a Christian so you are going to be a bit more specific as to what you mean by that.” Sejeonf laughs and does the sexiest eye roll I have ever seen.

“Ugh, I hate you.” She groans, “But you are correct. What I mean is the type that uses their religion as a weapon against others.” I shake my head before explaining to her the following

“The only thing I battle with are revolvers wits and the grit of a honey badger, and the occasional staff but that’s when I have to get serious. Also, I only really fight when I have to do am training which is a lot” Sejeong laughs at my statement and then says,

“Well then you should be fine, but it was kind of annoying how you asked that question about “weird Christians.” She teased with an adorable pout.

I chuckle and say, “Sorry that’s my A.U.H.D. talking. I should have figured out what you meant.”

“No you’re fine I should have figured you would be weird and very precise with your language since you are good friends with Vladimir” she relents. I smile and we begin eating. At one point I feel a hand slip in mine. I look up to see her giving me the brightest smile. I smile back “How is it?” She asks. Based on the way she’s holding my hand I can tell she’s nervous so I tell her I like it and that’s my final word. Sejeong rolls her eyes and then smiles again as we continue eating. After we finished she asked me how long I was in Korea and I explained to her a while due to working with Vlad, Max, and Gally.

“Oh okay, so another week?” Sejeong asked. I nodded but counteracted with

“However if something comes up that’s worth the time I’ll stay,” I responded Sejeong chuckled

“Oh, and I’m supposed to convince you?” She said in a challenging tone

“I mean you can if you want to this was mostly an economic choice.” I teased back. Sejeong smiled. As we were finishing up a guy approached us. He had blonde hair and storm-grey eyes.

“Aye Collector.” He said menacingly in English. I turn slowly to the young man. I gesture for Sejeong to get behind me but she stands by my side. I see her ready a knife that I hadn't seen earlier

“ People don't usually call me that with the intention of peace. So I am going to ask are you here to kill me?”

“I don't have to kill you just return what you stole?” the young man said

“And what did I steal?” I asked curious

“Don't play dumb you know I'm after Death’s draw.” the man said confidently

“Yeah, I don't have that. All my stuff are cheap copies.” I replied

“You expect me to believe that especially given your reputation?” the man asked taking out an arching javelin.

“I guess a demonstration is in order then sadly,” I reply. I turn to Sejeong, “I'll handle this .” I say to her. She shakes her head and stands in front of me.

“Look I'd appreciate it if you do not attack my friend. I know he looks scary but he's a sweetheart,” she says sweetly

“A sweetheart who turned an outer being into a divine Treasure.” the young man says skeptically. Sejeong looks at me with surprise as I nod to confirm the story.

“Look dude my Ascendant Ability is called the “A Reveler’s tool kit, is often expansive.” A major part of it allows me to emulate other divine treasures and arts.” I explain, but the man only grew more aggressive. He pointed his javelin at me and in a flash, I shoulder-charged him back to Long Island. Sejeong eyed me intrigued

“How did you do that?” she asked

“I used Lugh’s Long Lunge and made it nonlethal.” Sejeong eyed me and then said, “Tell me everything”

In her car, the first thing Sejeong asked about was my Ascendant status,

“So what type of Ascendant are you; Direct, Legacy, Trance, adopted, or avatar?” she asked excitedly I squinted as before I never really considered it.

“Hybrid I guess,” I answered.

“Interesting, wait how?”

“Um, would it be a bad time to explain that I was never exposed to “proper Ascendant” procedures due to my Christian upbringing, and am only now coming to a fully developed understanding of it?” I asked. Sejeong stopped in her tracks and looked at me then began laughing. I sat in awkward silence for a moment then. She turned and smiled at me.

“That's okay,” Sejeong said with a gracious smile. “It's just I have heard stories of Ascendants reaching adulthood and then becoming claimed and I always wondered what that looked like. Now I know and honestly it's pretty funny.” Sejeong smiled as she spoke. I turned back to her

“So you're also an Ascendant?” I ask. Sejeong nods then replies

“I am a direct one and my parent is Seokga.”

“Oh that's super cool tell me more.” I say

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #tifa lockhart #kim sejeong #ioi sejeong #sejeong #ffviir

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honestsycrets · 1 year

Text

Amor y Respeto II: Corazón [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]

chapter I: mi alma

❛ pairing | miguel o’hara x reader

❛ type | continuation of one shot.

❛ summary | you're trying to forget miguel with hobie's help on the field. but miguel isn't quite ready to let go.

❛ tags | jealousy, latina reader, slightly nsfw (only nudity), spanish is not translated, some mention of blood and wounds, violence, some paranoia, miguel is not pleased, an attempt was made at british slang, some creative liberties.

❛ sy’s notes | gif credit to aehanse. a little reference to gilgamesh with a golden bull in this chapter because i wanted a simple anomaly and for some reason a golden bull just makes me giggle a bit.

Miguel only left Nueva York for very important reasons. Very important reasons usually entailed a little stress relief at the end of a very stressful day. Very important reasons like your gentle fingertips running over his sweaty chest. Very important reasons like your plush lips wrapped around his--

“No chance,” Lyla chittered in his ear. “There’s the whole ‘I don’t love you’ thing. And that kiss?”

A headache was brewing: everything twinkled, glistened, and refracted light.

“I was there, Lyla. Could do without the reminder.”

“Really because--”

“I can fix it,” Miguel growled, clawing past the tall buildings rife with beautiful flowers. It was your favorite time of year. The perfect time to go to the balcony and wait for him to follow behind, to pick off the yellow pollen that dusted his burnt umber hair.

When he finally breached your plant-filled balcony, the window was open despite his warnings to keep it closed. You loved the light and drew the blinds open day by day to let in the bright light of the day. In contrast, he could have done without the bright light streaming in during his early morning visits. That wasn’t wholly the issue. The issue was anyone who wanted to watch you sleep in your love-rustled sheets could. He could.

Miguel’s hands hooked on his slender hips. He glanced at the offensive presence of a singular powdery pink rose in a vividly graffitied cup that he hadn’t given you. He didn't need to guess to know who had. As your shorthair cat trotted into your bedroom, he realized that the rest of the apartment was empty. He wouldn’t be mewing at him if you were singing in the kitchen and making cookies that he shouldn’t eat. It's little, you would guilt him and squish a bite-sized morsel in his mouth.

Miguel jerked his head to the side and threw a look at Lyla. She threw up her hands in response. They came to the same conclusion. “The roof?”

There wasn't a worse time to climb the last few floors of your apartment. Light battered his senses as the sun crested past the rooftops of your city and emitted pastel crystal hues. Soon, the night would fall on your busy city and cloak it in darkness. In the darkness, problems always arose.

"Se dice-- never mind, it's a pastellio," you brushed off the small chunks of crystal that nipped at your forearms and picked a chunk up off of a paper-thin napkin. The crumbly remnants held their own memories. Memories of your fingers sealing pastry dough over a cool picadillo, arguing about the quality of HQ cafeteria’s empanadas all by yourself despite knowing that he liked them. They didn’t taste the same lately.

“Tastes like a meat pie,” Hobie waggled a crusty corner. “Must be a meat pie.”

You brought the rim of an opaque brown glass bottle to your lips. The malt drink coursed down your throat slowly, leaving your throat cool and refreshed. Just the way you wanted to feel after a long day of work. “If that’s a meat pie, this is beer.”

Hobie-- Miguel sneered. There had some alternative, impure reason he was here. Maybe it was to piss him off, to distract him from the work really at hand. If that was it, he lamented, he was doing a good job. Why else would he be here?

“A kiddy beer,” he flicked over one of his empty beer bottles. “Listen. You coming to see the concert?”

“Whose?”

“Mines, who else?” he answered. “Gwen’ll be there.”

“It’s not really my scene, Hobie,” you said. “Don't you think I’m a bit old for that sort of thing?”

“Old?” Hobie chirped after you. You swayed under the force of his playful punch to your shoulder and returned one to his willowy arm. Your eyes turned back to the crystalized sun dipping beneath the horizon. He sucked his tongue against the roof of his tongue. “Letting that muppet shoot his cum in ya is the only thing that’s gonna make you old. Complicit. You wanna be complicit?”

“¡Fo! Gross, stop,” you dropped your drink to the side and flopped back onto the unforgiving concrete roof. But he had a point, your palm migrated over your belly. His spunk was probably still wiggling around in your stomach. Miguel simpered in the shadows.

“You never see these autocrats for who they are," he lamented.

“It has nothing to do with… Hobie. Hobie, my love isn’t politic--”

“Everything is political.”

“Hobie, I take care of him-- them,” you motioned to your city, glittering in the fading sunlight. “For love and laughter. That’s what we all deserve. Love and laughter. Miguel wants it too, he’s just,” Incapable or unwilling, you suppressed. “Complicated.”

“Complicated,” Hobie spat out as though it offended him. “It ain't complicated to me. He don’t love you. Half the time he don’t even like you.”

“But I love him.”

“His love? It ain’t enough.”

“It matters to me.”

A low growl emanated from his deep chest. It was enough to cause your heads to wrack around in his direction. Miguel steeled his body against the wall he dangled from, shielded in the dark crystally shadows of a mural.

“Should we--” you stared at the wall, eyes narrowing.

Fuck.

“Ain’t nothing to be worried about. Probably a rat— a big rat,” Hobie lurched over your body. His long and lanky arms caged your body beneath him. It was a universe apart from Miguel’s well-corded arms, broad and strong. Arms that, at the moment, Miguel used not to spring off the wall.

“It’s his muscles.”

“¡Ay cállate! Why is it always his muscles?” You ruptured into laughter and reached up to push him away by his thick wicks. You crawled out from underneath Hobie and stretched out your arms behind your back. Tension unwound from Miguel with an exhale of stale air from his lungs.

“You got a type,” Hobie lazed his elbow over his knee.

“You don’t know any of my exes, Hobie,” you swept up your trash and covered your head with your rebozo-like cowl. At that exact moment, your watch blared. “And you ain’t know mine, either.”

“Vente, Corazón. I have a call.”

Corazón?

“Can’t handle it yourself?” Hobie hopped up and adjusted his guitar, slouching off his shoulder.

“Just because I can, doesn't mean I have to,” you took a step to the edge of the rooftop. You turned your hands up. “C'mon, I’ll even make you cookies.”

Make him cookies. You would change out of your blood-smattered outfit into a little slip to make Hobie, a man that you knew he had a very poor opinion of, cookies. A man that was reckless in life, reckless in HQ, and would not take orders that didn’t benefit his perception of the world. His breathing hitched, heavy and sharp, to keep his rage in check. If you respected him, you would never invite Hobie anywhere near your apartment. Especially not at night. What were you thinking?

“That your way of keeping me for the night?” Hobie asked. “Think I’ll get lucky?”

“Is it working?”

You looked Hobie over once, starting at his boots and ending at Hobie’s pierced lip. Your lips budded in a terrible smile. A look that Miguel did not like, not at all. You turned and stepped off the building, out of his field of vision. Hobie followed soon after.

The sun faded far past the horizon, cloaking Miguel in solitary indigo darkness. His fingers teased the ochre face of his watch-- he had things to do.

You didn’t need backup.

You crawled out of the rubble of one of your favorite flower shops. Bits of lavender crystal embedded in your arm drew blood down your arm. As of late, it felt as though you couldn’t do anything right. Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life and fixed the amateur mistakes you were making day by day without mentioning your incompetence. He was good to you.

This time was different. You recognized this anomaly from another time, but not another place. It was here, at the intersection of Cereza and Trini, that months ago that Miguel and you-- No, you did not need backup. You didn’t need him.

The thick, muscular leg of the stupid bull stormed by. The thing was comically obnoxious. Just as obnoxious as the ache in your chest every morning when you woke up alone in your bed with Miguel visiting… not even once in the past few days. You wondered if he even thought of you.

“Miss Spider lady, are you okay?” a little girl with thick brown pom-pom puff hair and the warmest caramel eyes asked. Usually, she sold singular flowers at the cash register of her parent’s shop. You hated to think what hardship would come to them because of your inadequacy. If you could control your emotions, as Miguel rang true, this never would have happened.

“Si, si, Zaniah,” your head spun with the pain radiating from your side. You broke something, and of course, it wasn’t healing. You blamed him. Your feet stumbled forward in a line. You didn’t want to see the headlines of this one. Most spiders dealt with villains worth the name, villains with prowess. You? A shiny fucking bull from heaven. “No te preocupes, go, go.”

“Mami, mami!” the little girl shrieked and bolted, her flowy purple cape dissipated as she disappeared into the back. You felt bad for the mother that would have to deal with that for the next few days as you broke into a run, flexing your wrist for webbing.

If you could just-- trip the damn thing. Then, somehow, with enough time you could… oh, you didn’t know, bind its legs? Or bind its legs first then tip? But where would you even tip without casualties? Maybe, if you were lucky, you could lure it to the river-- but that was on the outskirts of town. You were running out of time. You had to deal with it. Had to. What would that little girl think? What would Miguel think?

“You sure you don’t need backup?” Lyla asked, her gilded frame bending at the waist. "Because you look like you need backup."

“Si,” you hissed. “I am sure, Lyla. I don’t need anyone. And I especially don't need Miguel. I got this.”

Your red boots connected with its fuzzy back. Its great, golden chain skid across the concrete floor, emitting an awful hissing noise. You seized its collar and jammed your heels into its back to try and force the thing to heel. It wasn’t. Despite your strength, you weren’t strong enough to do it on your own. The pressure on the side of your rib cage was becoming immense. Breathing became a chore.

“No you don’t,” she sang.

It was moments later that the bull howled pitifully. It slid on its side, crunching old cars and taking out rusty street lamps under its thick muscle. Despite digging your heels in, the damn thing whirled you off like a children’s dreidel. The force of the impact thrust you off its back and into a rusty tow truck. The pain burned low in your back. Hobie: to the rescue again. At some point, you were going to have to give him something better than cookies.

“Get up,” rasped your backup, cloaked in vast dark blue and red. Not Hobie, then. Your hazy eyes were playing tricks on you. You heaved out rattly breaths as you obeyed, or tried to obey the dumb big man in your life.

It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Heavy and hard, your limbs fought the attempt to move. Before you could complain a minute further about how fucking infuriating it was to have him run to your aid, your world eclipsed into the darkness.

You woke up with a pulsing headache and the very unwelcome sight of Jess. Through her yellowy glasses, you recognized her colorful kaleidoscope of emotions: annoyance, derision, and eventually… relief. It wasn’t the infirmary. The bed was too comfortable for that. You quickly realized that you were in his room with nothing but one of his annoying tech bandages mummified to your chest. You knew from that alone that you were in for it-- if not for her face becoming increasingly more stoic. They should have been siblings.

“You needed backup,” her arms encircled her belly. “Didn’t you?”

Your eyes fell to the soft sheets that tickled your skin. Breathing was still hard, harder with the anxiety of knowing a lecture was headed your way. You couldn’t lie to Jess. Tears pricked your cheeks and you tried to steel your heart from them.

It was impossible. His room overwhelmed you: from his rich scent that perfumed the sheets you laid on to the air you breathed. He was close by. That alone was more stress than you could handle.

“I know Jess. I needed backup. Pero, the anomaly, it was-- I thought I could handle it.”

“Pero nothing,” she held a gloved hand up. “Girl, I don’t need your excuses.”

“But I’ve called Hobie too much this week.”

“Is Hobie the only one here? You could have called me. Or-- and I’m just being crazy here. Miguel? Your man?” she rolled her head toward the back of the room. She must not have heard. You followed her gaze to where he stood, his uniform flopped unceremoniously about his waist. Your heart strummed and skipped a beat. With her words, Miguel turned his eyes up from the wound at his waist-- to your eyes. They pierced your heart in the darkness. He would have come.

“You know what? I’ll just leave you two alone.”

“No, no, no Jess, por favor--” She left without another word. Punishment in its own right. Your hand approached your chest, covering your cleavage from his sight. His hand swayed over the pad to lock the door shut.

Your head dropped back on his flat pillows. Whether it was the bundles of discomfort at his presence or actual shots of pain, the awkward silence was growing increasingly too much for you to handle. He brought you here, into his bed, for a reason you couldn’t understand. You both were done. Finished. Miguel didn’t seem to think so.

“You act as if I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Maybe, he had seen you naked before. He had no right to anymore. You opened your eyes to look at him, noting the strong scent of sweat permeating his skin and the warm sheen that dusted his chest. You had your increased senses to thank for that. You swallowed air in forceful gulps and burrowed painful shockwaves in your chest. If nothing else, you could at least swallow pain with some honor.

Everything that Miguel did had a purpose. You couldn’t help but eye the way his thumbs looped around his waistband to draw his pants lower, freeing his swarthy skin from indigo fabric. Your eyes fell on his flaccid cock that sat on a tuffet of his thick black pubic hair, chased the curve sight of his shapely ass, and settled on his strong rideable thighs. It was the least egregious sight to stare at. He slipped the suit over his shoulder, raising his brown brows in unison.

“And as if you haven’t seen me naked before, either.”

“It… it’s been a while.” Your eyes darted past his figure to the door. You were sure it was locked.

"Has it really?" Miguel threw out as he disappeared into his bathroom. For a moment, you debated running. Your heart ached with the knowledge that he would just come to find you. He left knowing that you would not disobey him because, after everything, you respected his wishes.

What Miguel's wishes were today was up for debate. The only thing you were sure of was the gentle pitter-patter of water droplets, the steam that emanated from the bath, and his lofty figure swaying in the distance. The warm certainty that filled your body knowing that he would come back to bed. Because that’s what Miguel did when you were hurt: he paid attention.

He came back into the room nude, ruffling his hair with a fluffy towel. You couldn’t convince yourself to act as if you were asleep. His presence shattered any illusion of ignoring him, even with the expressionless way he considered you tonight. He was utterly intolerable.

After an eternity boxed in with your thoughts, reality came as Miguel, a smooth wall of muscle, clambered into the bed. The bed shifted under Miguel’s weight. Just as you predicted, the warmth of his chest was against your slight back and his large palm was flat against your stomach.

You broke up with him for a reason, you broke up with him for a reason— Miguel didn’t seem to care about those delicate details. He caressed your neck with his nose. His lips dragged over your unmarked skin. As certain as a clock was to click, your body became slick with anticipation. You knew he could tell.

You were weak. Weak out there. Weak in here. Weak everywhere.

“You smell… different.”

“Miguel, por favor,” you breathed, thready and thin. “It’s just Hobie.”

“Hobie?” he growled. Miguel’s hand encompassed the large space of your belly. Your legs shifted as Miguel held you a little firmer. You expected his hand to move lower, but he didn’t.

“Hm. Why would it be Hobie?” he asked, his voice dripping dangerously low. “Is there something I should know, Corazón?”

“No, I, no,” you stammered. He knew. Though you said the words, they felt cut off from what you were saying. As though the threat of his rejection took over all the confidence in your world. "You were watching?"

You turned in his arms to face him. His forehead creased in disapproval. You opted to press your forehead against his, running your nose against his, breath puffing his lips.

"You thought I wouldn't," he said. His eyes spun with sharpness, searching your face for evidence of the truth. As though he were asking if you’d been unfaithful despite the breakup. Your face was always pitifully easy to read. Even with the breakup, he could read your intentions as clearly as the words on his lab screens.

"I didn't think you cared."

You were used to a Miguel who crept into your bedside window, slunk into your bed, and woke you up from your slumber with the weight of his body between your legs. A Miguel that only had time for brief moments of pleasure and successful results. This Miguel was different.

"You know I do."

And there it was. He pushed himself free of the bed in search of pants. You watched him pull them over his ass before he flopped into the one chair in the middle of his room, head in his hand. Lyla, he rumbled something under his breath you couldn’t quite hear. Your senses were dull, something you equated to the exhaustion and sleepiness that threatened to overtake you at any given moment.

“Something is different. And it isn’t him,” he sneered.

You missed the warmth of his body against yours. The ginger way he touched you just moments before. After days of being without his touch, you missed the simple things. Like the way he touched you. The way he focused on you alone in a room full of others. You hated yourself for craving it. You made a choice. Why couldn’t you stick with it?

“What did I do wrong now?” Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth. It was the very cottonmouth you feared you would have when telling Miguel about Gwen and Miles. Your mind was too hazy to rationalize what you possibly could have done this time. Miguel would always be an impenetrable castle, one you could admire from afar but never enter.

“Nothing!” He snapped. You recoiled from the shrill in his voice. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, easing his tone down to a murmur. He threw you a small, bittersweet glance. Almost a smile. “Muñeca, you did nothing wrong. Get some rest.”

He sat there a moment longer. A frown grew on his lips as Miguel stood up and walked toward the door. After one, two, then three attempts to open the door, his closed fist slammed a hole into the siding. It finally whirled open and allowed him to exit. It left you in the sea of silence that was his dark room. You never liked waking up in his room alone. It was bare, too bare, for anyone to live in. You worried that his mind was just like that.

“Lyla? Lyla, I want to go home.”

It was a long time-- too long-- before she answered. “You should sleep.”

And though she advised that, it was a restless night.

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