#i have a vague idea about what happens in this universe and no real motivation to write it

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

DP X DC AU Danny & The Little Dead Girl

(title pending lol, Danny and Curare adventures pt 2!) Pt 1 here My AU art

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Monday comes, as it is won't to do, and Danny has to go to school which means the baby halfa has to come to school too.

" ok, so, one rule for today, big rule, you gotta be quiet in class. Uh-"

Danny pulls his phone out of his pocket as their bus hits a pot hole. Sitting right at the front means they catch the momentum first and he has to hold Curaré against his side lest she go flying into the aisle.

A couple voices grumble behind them at the jostling as Danny gets his text to speech open.

" Necessitas ser quieto en clase. ¿Entiendes?" The Google robot lady voice translates for him.

Curaré blinks at him from behind her little paper face mask and looks from the phone to him curiously.

This is the game they've been playing since last night, Danny says something in English robo lady repeats it in Spanish.

Danny doesn't know if Curaré understands how the phone speaks or even that it does but she's giving him her favorite little blank expression so he assumes she gets it. At least, she hasn't really disagreed or disobeyed anything he's asked of her yet so...not gonna look that gift horse in the mouth Danny boy!

..

School goes well, mostly.

They get through the metal detectors and bag checks at the front entrance just fine. The security guards barely glance at Curaré once they confirm she isn't hiding a Glock or something under her shirt. Which it's kinda sad to know gun control is a cross-dimensional American problem but it's on brand if nothing else Danny thinks.

They get to first period without stopping at Danny's locker and settle down in two desks by the back door. This is Danny's usual spot, well usual as of a month ago, it's mostly empty back here now but Danny used to have a seat partner.

(A seat partner who had a kind of shady tweaker vibe that Danny would have been worried about but that kid went home early one day and never came back so....it's Curaré's seat now.)

The little dead girl looks even littler sat in the desk-chair combo, she can barely see over the top. Danny stacks three dictionaries under her for a boost then he gets her set up with some pencils and paper and the single highlighter he found on the floor his first day here.

Curaré seems vaguely interested in his offerings ,after Danny shows her how to use them to mark the page, and starts creating cautious marks of her own.

She keeps glancing back up at Danny as if to confirm that this is still fine? And he nods his head every time trying to be encouraging as it becomes obvious that nobody taught this kid to write inside Fosters Home for Real life Assassins. Which Danny thinks is poor planning on there part because really? If your Assassin can't write how the fuck were they supposed to leave ominous threatening warnings? Or fake suicide notes? Or any number of written props to flesh out a cover story.

Whatever, obviously the assassins raising Curaré sucked ass all around so he can't say he's surprised but he is majorly disappointed.

As the bell rings for first period a whole slew of teens rush in ahead of the teacher Mr. Berk. Simple guy, grey beard, coke bottle glasses, smells like Vics vapor rub, the works.

He's like the most chilled out version of Mr. Lancer ever so he's alright in Danny's books. Plus he only has one "rule", as long as your butt is in your seat by the time he calls your name for attendance he won't mark you late. In Gotham, where everyone and their brother has enough late marks from shitty public transportion to get detention, it's a pretty sweet rule.

So Mr. Berk takes attendance like usual and only pauses on Danny and Curaré in the back for a brief moment.

Curaré stops drawing and stares down Mr. Berk like he's the T rex from Jurassic park. Frozen in place and without breaking eye contact. He stares back at her completely unphased.

" A small visitor then?" He says.

Danny nods. " My sister"

" Mhm" Mr. Berk says already moving on to the next student on his roster.

Danny breathes out huge sigh of relief, that was so much easier then he expected.

They more or less repeat this exchange the whole day. Mondays suck ass because it's one of the only days Danny actually has all 6 periods, but they make it through 1st, 2nd, and nutrition unscathed.

By lunch time Danny thinks they might actually be home free, if no one is gonna bring up the whole freaking child tagging along with him then he can probably just bring her with him everyday.

Maybe he can find her some work books and she can learn the alphabet? And addition? That's like on track for 4 year olds right? Danny can't remember being 4 but that feels right to him. He will educate the child in his care like the responsible almost adult he is. She will go to college!

At lunch Danny sits them at the back of the school right next to the teachers lounge because it's mostly deserted.

In Danny's exprience the best place to hide is in plain sight. He's been sitting here everyday since he enrolled himself and the teachers have never noticed him. Their way too busy trying to get any kind of break from teaching high schoolers to be concerned.Which Danny is greatful for because he has broken the rule about using his cell phone at lunch 50 times at this point.

Listen he has to do universe research when he has access to wifi! Which he only does at school. The administration should be glad he's using his lunch period to educate himself really.

So they eat by the lounge. Danny has Curaré face away from the door so she can take off her face mask and eat unencumbered.The cut on her face is still gnarly, it looks an almost enflamed purple as it tries it's best to heal.

Danny had given Curaré a little immuno-boost with his own ecto the night before to try to speed up her healing factor. But like any Halfa, basically just Danny's personal experience, you have to nourish the ghost half and the human half in equal parts to heal all the way.

It's not until home room, period 6/7, that the metaphorical straw breaks the metaphorical camels back. or the real straw to the metaphorical camel? Did camels even carry straw? where would it go? Between there humps? Not important Fenton!

Home room was a grade A disaster.

Mr. Perez, Danny's kind of ancient home room teacher, who was for almost all intents and purposes blind, had a freaking nose for trouble. It's like he could sniff out vapes and cell phones as soon as they hit the stale class air. Danny thought this would be the easiest class by far, Mr. Perez wouldn't even see Curaré let alone smell her.

And at first it seems like he doesnt, Mr. Perez takes attendance and skips right over Danny and Curaré with no fanfare.

Danny thinks that's the end of it and starts to breathe easy until 15 minutes before the final bell when Mr. Perez' TA asks him to step into the hallway with her for a second.

Danny generally liked Mr. Perez's TA, her name was Sabrina Kahn and she was the kind of girl Jazz would have hung out with.Straight laced, wore argyle cardigans, read books, the smart sort. She looked Jazz's age too, maybe 21ish and she always rolled her eyes when people gave dumb answers in class.

She looks a little embarrassed to be speaking to Danny which immediately sets him on edge.

" It's okay that you brought your little sister today but, I'm sorry, you won't be able to do that again. A bunch of your teachers made complaints with the front office and Mr. Perez got a call about it ..."

Sabrina had always been nice to him and now she was about to ruin his whole week.

" But Ms. Kahn-" Danny started.

She gave him a sympathetic look " Lemme guess, your parents can't take her to work so this was the next best option?"

Danny closed his mouth and nodded, that was actually a much better lie then he was gonna tell, thank you Ms. Kahn. ( But also Boooooo curse you Ms. Kahn!)

" Here, I know it can be hard to find childcare for metas, especially ones as ah-vibrant as your sister. My brother had the same trouble with my nephew."

Sabrina hands Danny a flyer, it's still warm from the printer, it looks like it's just a screenshot of an email.

"Thanks?"

The TA rolls her eyes, wow a lot like Jazz then.

" It's the address to that daycare and a referral. They only take kids by word of mouth, they're kind of... off the books. But their good people! I hope they can help you Danny."

The paper is on off yellow, as Ms.Kahn heads back into homeroom Danny feels all his hope go with her. Shit, what was he gonna do now? He looks through the little glass window in the door to the back where Curaré sits, she's already watching him. He tries to smile at her, be reassuring, he's not sure it works.

......

When the bell finally rings Danny picks Curaré up and puts her on his hip to avoid her being crushed by the rush of high schoolers who stampede out the door in front of them.

The flyer from Ms. Kahn feels like it's burning a hole through his pocket as they ride the bus towards the Narrows.

Danny cased the house from the flyer with maps street view as well as he could. It showed a skinny sublet house across from a small strip mall and laundrymat.

Inconspicuous sure, maybe even innocent looking but well...you could never tell in Gotham, all the buildings looked sort of evil by default. It was probably because of the gargoyles and the general low level stink fog that seemed to always be out.

The big city™ really made Danny miss the suburbs of Amity Park more then just the regular gut wrenching home sickness. Oh what'd he'd give to take a deep breath of air and not inhale the smell of piss when he walked down the street.

They get off the bus at the corner a block from the daycare.

Danny holds Curaré's hand which makes for slow going but seems like the right thing to do. She's never wandered off but Danny didn't want to give her the opportunity to either.

As he helped her climb the three short stairs up to the house Danny was suddenly hit with a wave of panic.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I really gonna take care of this freaking Halfa ghost baby for the next 18 years? Im not even an adult! I work weekends at BatBurger for minimum wage WTF?

Danny's hands began to sweat and his stomach cramped. Oh fuck, here was the existential crisis he'd been waiting for since he first decided to take Curaré from the leagues super secret baby basement.

Oh shit he couldn't breathe, what was he gonna do! OH fuck think!

What would jazz do? Call child services and offer psychological support. Not Uber helpful in this case Danny didn't know the first thing about psychology and Gotham CPS was actual prison.

What would Sam do? Assassin babies are hella counter culture but maybe find a cool rich eccentric family to adopt them? Nope, not gonna work Danny only knew one eccentric rich girl and she was a whole dimension away. FUCK THINK FENTON!

What would Tucker do? In this situation ask Google, homeschooling is big these days so maybe if you leave her in the apartment while your gone with an iPad-

" Hey you alright there dude, can I help you?"

Danny choked on the end of his anxiety panic badbadbad spiral and looked up.

The front door to the house was open and just inside the threshold stood a younger teen, maybe 16? With the kind of fade haircut Tucker always whined he couldn't pull off and a bright yellow hoodie.

Danny held his breathe for a moment making sure he felt it burn up his lungs and throat before letting out a big sigh.

" Yeah, yeah sorry kinda zoned out there I'm just uh kinda nervous I was told to come here for Daycare help for my little sister?"

Curaré looked at the stranger in the doorway with the same wide eyed blankness she stared at everything with. Funnily enough she was still holding Danny's hand, had held on through Danny's entire mental meltdown too despite the ecto sweat. Danny felt oddly touched by the gesture, even if it was more likely that the little girl wasn't bothered by his crisis then her being sympathetic.

The teen in the Yellow Hoodie raised an eyebrow at Danny as he fumbled the paper from Ms. Kahn out of his pocket to hand over.

Yellow Hoodie took it and looked between it, him, and Curaré.

" You're not a cop right? You have to tell us if you're a cop"

Danny made a face, " no, I'm not a cop! I would never be a cop, cops suck."

" Right." Yellow Hoodie said still suspicious " So you wouldn't mind if I called your referral up?"

" Be my guest dude."

The teen pulled out his phone and made sure to keep steady eye contact with Danny. Who could do nothing except not look away during this, the world's most impromptu staring contest, until Yellow Hoodie put his phone away.

" Just wanted to see if you were bluffing. Sabrina called earlier said she'd sent someone our way but you can never be too careful. Come on in. "

Danny felt the wind go out of his sails for the second time that day, what was with people and making him anticipate the worst.

.....

The inside of the house was old, homey, but old. It had very obviously been well lived in by a few generations of children, easy to see from the scuffed floors, chipped crown molding, and the sheer number of framed photos that hung on the walls.

There were signs of new life about too, some toys scattered on the floor, walls that were covered in butcher paper and crayon as high as little hands could reach, and oddly enough some scorch marks. Although, Danny's supposed that an unlicensed daycare for meta kids worth it's salt ought to have a least a few burn marks. For posterity if nothing else.

" I'm Duke, I volunteer here when I can but the place is run by the Mariscos, Mrs. Marisco specifically. She's been in the game for a long time" Duke nee yellow hoodie said as he stopped them in front of a closed door.

The hand made sign on the door said Office in nice scribbly lettering and it was hung on with a peg and twine. Real kitschy.

Danny could just make out the sounds of kids playing in another part of the house and was a little impressed that Duke had managed to keep Danny from seeing even one tiny tot during the impromptu house tour.

" I gotta go help Izzy with the kids, this is Mrs.Mariscos' office just knock before you go in, she might be on the phone."

Duke nodded to Danny, smiled down at Curaré and disappeared down the hallway.

Leaving Danny and Curaré alone in front of a closed door once again.

Danny looked down at Curaré and she looked up at him, she was characteristically silent.

" This feels like a job interview, did you bring your resume? "

Curaré blinked.

" Yeah, me neither. But I think if we both give her puppy eyes maybe our combined under aged-ness will activate her maternal instincts and she'll be forced to accept us?"

The nerves were back, they had never really left but now they had settled like a rock at the pit of Danny's stomach.

He couldn't bring himself to knock on that office door just yet so he fussed over Curaré instead. Kneeling down he straightened the collar of Curaré's hooded jacket and moveed her little backpack strap back up her shoulder where it had slipped.

" We got this. It's you and me now remember, even if this blows and you have to come to school with me for the rest of year it's you and me." Danny rested his hands on little shoulders and hung his head. " Jeez, I sound like my mom"

"No need to be so nervous Mijo! My Chiqis never met a kid she could turn away."

Danny's neck had never snapped up so fast in his life.

Curaré hadn't been looking up at him at all. No, Curaré was staring up towards the elderly woman floating near the ceiling.

Which was not great, because Danny for all the time had spent in Gotham had never seen another ghost. Not a single one.

Which was unsettling on its own but not bad per se, he'd thought maybe this dimension was just different, not enough spectral energy to manifest a ghostly body.

But no, again nope, this was so much worse.

No ghosts was easy enough to reationalize but one ghost? One ghost meant there was enough spectral energy, one ghost meant something was really really wrong with Gotham.

Because if there was only one ghost in a crime ridden pissed off city like this where the shit were all the others?

--------------------------------------------------

Yo! Just wanted to say thank u for all the support on part 1, did not expect people to like or care about it lol. Anyway back on bullshit, I've had this written for a while but didn't have the insp to post it until now.

Might write more, might not, you get one bat cameo for reading this time ur welcome.

Forgot to add this to the first post, it's in the reblogs, but TLDR Curaré is an assassin from batman beyond.

Note: if you wanna see cool art for this AU check the Danny and the little dead girl tag on my blog!

[qwertyfingers]

this one is a vague complaint and not something I want to like append to anything specific but the whole claim about 'real chronic pain' vs 'the tumblr kind' is so fucking bizarre to me. for followers who don't know, I'm 29 and I've been out of education since before graduating high school bc I got incredibly sick (glandular fever induced M.E. immediately followed by worsening of lifelong migraines that left me bedbound for 2 years + almost completey housebound for 10 years) that have only responded to treatment within the last three years, specifically because they invented a new class of drugs.

right now I'm in the middle of completing my HS education and applying to study neuroscience or biomed at university. my main motivation for doing this is that I've been reading (bio)medical papers for self-study (and just for fun if I'm being honest, I really like this kind of science) for years but I've pretty much hit the wall of what it's possible to learn without Going To School For It. my secondary motivation is that I'd really like to do biomedical research, ideally into migraines because that's the shit that ruined my life, but I have a whole load of other areas of interest, one of which is chronic pain and the things that make it so complicated to understand and treat.

the idea that "chronic pain" is some monolithic condition with like one cause and one solution is insane and the idea of standing up and saying it with full-throated confidence doesn't make any sense to me for any person with even a shred of knowledge about how pain signalling works in the human body.

one of the core symptoms of autism — which a really high percentage of tumblr users have — is that your body responds to completely harmless sensory inputs as if they were painful, and there's enough research been published to say fairly definitively this happens largely because your body physiologically processes that sensation as a noxious stimulus.* autistic people are also among the most likely members of the population to develop myriad chronic pain conditions. these things are probably fucking related even if we don't have the exact biological mechanism by which it happens pinned down yet!

the whole reason I responded to those post is that i really fucking care about this shit, and being presented as some wanker who makes shit up to seem cool and interesting on tumblr does actually really upset me. i specifically spent quite a long time editing those responses to be, like, affable and not critical of the posters or possible to read as mean or snotty in any way. I know this wasn't my fault and it's clear from the tone of those posts that they have no intention of engaging in a way that isn't obnoxious and argumentative, but it feels pretty shitty anyway.

whatever man. i just want people to look after themselves. if you'll allow me one shoebox moment: if you find yourself having to take OTC pain medication on a daily or near-daily basis, something is wrong with your body or your lifestyle or both and you should seek help for that whenever you are able. it may seem obvious to say, but sometimes people need reminding that being in pain every single day is not normal. love you all.

*[not relevant, but the same thing happens in migraines with blue light (photophobia) and allodynia (where touch becomes painful)]

[total-drama-brainrot]

psycho!noah au, what do the aftermath cast think? conversely if they dont know/dont see the show (isnt it implied to be canon in wt that they watch the show or atleast can?), how do they react to newly eliminated cast members telling them?

and then, at whatever point he gets eliminated or just whenever the cast sees him again, how do they react with that new info?

The justification I have for Noah remaining stealthed under his "stoic cynic" persona pre-reveal in this AU is a little convoluted, but I do have one. Vaguely. Which I'll try to outline here for continuities' sake.

So, to clarify; Noah only competes in Island and World Tour, just like in canon. Most things happen just like canon, with the exception of Noah lasting a little longer in Island so he and Izzy have more time to be menaces (I have no idea how I'll shift the elimination order to justify keeping him around, though). Noah's still eliminated fairly early and ends up on the Playa, where the other elimination fodder welcome him with open arms, because in Island they're only given access to the raw camera footage instead of the final cut!

I imagine it'd be pretty hard for a Brand New Show to have the manpower of a full professional editing team that can plan and prosecute the final cut of a whole ~20 minute episode in only three days (in-universe), so to keep the losers as in the know as possible in real time, they're given access to the same live camera footage Chris and Chef have, just without the confessionals.

Since the confessionals are, uh. Toilets. And no one wants to have 24/7 access to toilet stall footage.

Noah only ever really drops his ruse in the confessional, or around Izzy, so none of the losers have gotten the opportunity to see the real him in action; even when he is visible on camera, it's only during the stolen moments he shares with Izzy outside of challenges, wherein the two plot and scheme together like Pinky and the Brain. Given that the majority of them don't even bother to watch the live footage unless there's a challenge actively happening (or something else otherwise noteworthy), his true nature goes undetected amongst them as well.

And then, in Action, the show's budget and workforce increases. Suddenly, the editing team is thrice the size of Island's, and they are capable of providing a final cut of each episode within the span of 24~72 hours, allowing the show to air quicker. Which has the added bonus of allowing everyone in the peanut gallery access to the yet-to-be-aired episodes (instead of the live footage), keeping them up to date with the competition whilst also giving them the same perspective as the audience itself. Including people's confessions.

It's a good thing Noah didn't compete in Action, then. His mask of indifference lives on.

Then there's a year-long break between seasons, wherein Noah works under Chris as his personal assistant. Yada yada yada, World Tour happens. He knows that the losers are going to see his confessions. So now Noah has to choose between maintaining his persona at the sake of losing out on toying with the greater audience, or carrying on as he did in Island at the cost of revealing his 'true colours' (which, in this case, still isn't the real Noah so much as an exaggeration of his more deranged tendencies, since Noah's still essentially performing for the cameras; just with a different role).

Of course he goes with option two. He's primarily motivated by his own amusement- that was the reason for his whole charade in the first place.

(Alright, clarification over, time to actually answer the question.)

So the peanut gallery and steadily increasing number of World Tour Rejects are horrified when, in Noah's scattering of confessions- as he doesn't confess very often, so when he does it's a treat to himself and the audience- he mostly waxes poetic about how exciting each near-death experience the cast go through is, and all of the different ways he so wanted to cause the others harm (either in general, or themed around the challenges), being so much more expressive than anyone's ever seen him (concerningly so, to the point of it breaching the uncanny valley) and giddy over the prospect of performing Acts Of Incredible Violence against his castmates.

They're living in that same fearful anticipation the wider audience experienced through his tenure in Island; waiting for Noah to Drop The Act and fulfil his promises of brutal sabotage, if only to finally put an end to the constant looming threat of his self control snapping. They're horrified bystanders of a car crash waiting to happen (at least, they think they are. Noah's not actually gonna do any of the things he's suggesting, probably, but keeping the audience on their toes is one of his favourite games!) and each episode he features in is a test of both their patience and their own sanity.

Because, could you imagine watching your friends interact and be friendly with someone who (you think) is out for their blood, entirely unaware of the danger? that's literally what they're experiencing.

And Noah, because he's a little shit who thinks he's funny (he is), sometimes goes so far as to fake-out the audience by rearing up attacks against his castmates during challenges, only to shoot the nearest camera a wry wink and a sly smile as he carries on with the actual task at hand, the others none-the-wiser.

It becomes so concerning, in fact, that every new arrival is immediately checked over for any signs of injuries or Noah's Influence and hastily given the rundown on The Situation. Which is, more often than not, met with the same incredulity as Sierra's claims- until they're shown various clips of Noah's confessions, or the fake-outs and otherwise unhinged looks he teases the cameras with.

-

For the second question; I have no idea. I'm still workshopping how people will react to Noah, and how Noah in turn will react to them. Post-reveal p!Noah will, eventually, disclose the fact that he's not as bloodthirsty as he portrays himself as, but until then it's anyone's guess as to how far he'll take the bit- and who could/will get hurt in the process.

[asurrogateblog]

Cannibals, Pirates, and PhDs: How Did I Get Here?

I mentioned in some tags earlier that I’ve only actually been a real fan of Pink Floyd for under a year, and that the confluence of events that led up to it is pretty absurd. Some interest seemed to be taken in this, so I though I’d elaborate.

I didn’t know how to shorten this timeline and have it make any sense, so it’s... long. But idk, I think it’s pretty funny. If you’re nosy like I am this is for you.

My Backstory Timeline:

early childhood: my parents essentially mainline me and my little sister with The Beatles. I know almost no songs written past the 70’s until at least sixth grade. I develop a childhood crush on Paul McCartney, a joke that the universe really decides to play the long game on.

2014: my dad calls me over one night, and gravely tells me he’s been waiting to share something until I’m old enough. I brace myself to be told about sex or secret half-siblings. Instead, he tells me I need to listen to The Wall. Irritated at the idea of wasting an hour and half of my night, I nevertheless comply and go up to my room and put it on. I do not come back from this, clearly having inherited some sort of generational curse.

Around the same time, I am also secretly watching Hannibal every time my parents send me upstairs because Game of Thrones is “too gory”. This will trigger three important things: an interest in psychology, a love of horror media, and a classical music phase will train my attention span to last well past the three minute mark.

2014-2023: Over the intervening years, I become a casual fan of Pink Floyd, but make a deliberate point not to learn anything about the band. I like being able to imagine my own meanings for the songs. Also, I am motivated against this by a childhood memory of being deeply frightening by a picture of old Paul McCartney (LOL). I do not want that to ever happen again, so no learning.

Cut to April of 2023: I am finishing up my first year of my PhD program studying media psychology. I am in a bad place mentally, and am going through another horror movie phase to fill the hole. As a result, I get very into American Psycho. The main character, Patrick Bateman, is a fan of superficial 80’s pop music, particularly Genesis. I decide to start listening to Genesis to see if I agree with his tastes. While researching “best Genesis albums”, I come across The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. I listen to it, and am blown away. I had no idea that the Phil Collins band made music like that. This sends me down the prog-rock rabbit hole. I still won't learn any lore.

Summer of 2023: MEANWHILE, I am also going through another pirate phase. I have a fairly encyclopedic knowledge of 18th century piracy (and am still quite active in the Black Sails fan community). Around this time, I get really obsessed with this one random guy named Dennis McCarthy who was hanged in 1718.

I decide to work poor Dennis into a science fiction story I’ve been working on. The premise is essentially that the universe is an abandoned simulation, and a ‘glitch in the matrix’ starts to, among other things, bring people from the wrong time periods back to life. The format of the story is vaguely monster-of-the-week, in which the characters have to solve various problems caused by mistakes in the code. I think, “hey, you know what would be perfect for this? that fanfic I wrote about The Wall in high school.” Said fic (which that stupid fucking beatles movie stole from me) is about a world in which Pink Floyd never existed, but a wannabe rock-star discovers a box full of their records and decides to copy them. While he is touring his plagiarized version of The Wall, he realizes that the events of the album are starting to happen to him in real life. By working this concept into my new story, I go through another one of my periodical The Wall phases. It's in full swing when fall rolls around.

September of 2023: This semester, I take a grad-level narrative theory class in the English department. I decide it would be helpful to follow along with a specific example, so I choose The Wall. Using the terminology I am learning in the class, I start to realize that The Wall is…. incredibly narratologically fucked up. To help orient me, I watch the bootleg concert recordings, and the trick with the surrogate band sends me so out of my mind that I decide I must break my rule about never learning band lore.

This is where the two plot-lines converge. I don’t remember which came first, but around this same time, I think to myself “hey, if Genesis was hiding such an incredible album under the 80’s pop, what must Pink Floyd be hiding?” On that whim, I put on Piper at the Gates of Dawn, which equally sends me so out of my mind that I decide I must break my rule about never learning band lore. I needed to know what the fuck happened to get them from Piper to The Wall.

September-November: In the two months between the onset of this and finally making another sideblog, I dedicate all of my free time to learning as much about Pink Floyd as humanely possible (and writing a 20 page essay for that narrative theory class). As you can imagine, this is a lot to unpack all at once for someone who didn’t even know who Roger or Syd or any of the rest of them were. Luckily, I am over-educated enough to be a very fast learner. Aside from the band lore itself, I of course also fall in love with the rest of Pink Floyd's discography musically-speaking. Having this interest to latch onto genuinely pulls me out of my depression.

Cut to February 2024: I am really enjoying myself, and want to keep this going as long as possible, but I am starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel on Pink Floyd lore. I decide I need to feed the fire by supplementing with lore from another band. The Beatles seem to have a strong fan presence on tumblr, why not revisit a childhood favorite? The universe laughs at my expense.

That about brings us up to date. I have gone through so much character development over the last eight months, it’s crazy. Pink Floyd is definitely one of those things that is less of a “phase” and more of a permanent part of my mindscape. Weirdly enough, since I am studying media psychology, all of this has also been really good for my career? I never took an interest in -real- media figures (as opposed to fictional characters) before, and I feel like I have a much clearer sense of things now. It's definitely influenced my research, so whatever domino effect this has on my future is bound to get even funnier.

Anyway, that’s my backstory!

[wthelvetica21]

Boneheads ; Bright Orange Light

Prologue

Manny is cleaning the glasses behind the counter of the bar. Lewis and Manolo had to escort Brook out because he had a little too much for the night. Likely from being away from ‘pretty girls for too long’. Both Papyrus and Sir Daniel were cleaning up the rest of the cantina talking among each other. Most likely asking him more about knightly stuff he thinks. The tired former travel agent of the Department of Death gets startled from his thoughts by a familiar lackdascale voice.

Sans: “How's manning the bar been Manny?”

He puts up the last glass with a sigh and lights up a cigar from his coat.

Manny : “Same as usual Sans. But things have been monotonous lately.”

The skeleton with the blue hoodie shrugs closing his eyes with a light chuckle.

Sans : “Yup, a real ghost town you could say. No bones about it.”

Manny would roll his eyes if he had them in the way Lewis, Manolo, and a few others did as he lit his cigar at the pun. The only one he hasn’t seen in a while was…

Manny : “Oye, where’s Jack?”

Sans : “Oh him? Still mulling over that weird stone thing he and Paps found one day.”

Now that he hasn’t heard about.

Manny : “Si, what about it has him mulling over it?”

Sans : “It was shaped like a tombstone with runes I haven’t seen before. He’s been at it trying to crack what they mean but I may have a hunch but it's...”

He hasn’t heard Sans this unsure in a long time, but then again he’s the only one of the group who is way more savvy with things that would normally be unheard of where he was from. Hell anyone that wasn’t from San’s particular universe. But Manny admits it's interesting and knows Jack is a kindred spirit in knowing more about it. The door swings to the east wing open with Jack using his long leg to kick it open.

Jack : “Sans you won’t believe what just happened!”

In his spindly arms was tombstone-shaped slate. The runes seen to have a subtle glow to them and is making an eerie hum.

Sans : “Woah there! What do you mean by that Jack?”

Jack : “It spoke! Do you think it's a ghost trapped inside this headstone or…”

The seems to get louder as a disembodied and faded voice saying.

??? : “Not a ghost… a messenger… They will arrive in a bright orange light.”

Manny and Sans look at each other. Was this a bad omen? The slate is placed on a table. Lewis and the others save for Brook who was sobering up look at the strange tombstone. The hot-headed ghost with a magenta pompadour asks…

Lewis : “Well? Ya’ll two don’t think it's a trap ain't it?”

Sans : “No idea. Jack just came in with it and it just started to talk.”

Papyrus starts looking at it with suspicion crossing his arms.

Papyrus : “I have my eyes on you tombstone thing. What is your motives?”

No response but still that eerie hum persists before it pipes up again. It was still faded as if whoever was speaking through it was trying desperately to come through but the signal was weak.

??? : “No harm... The Coded, the Hero and the Alcoholic…”

Sir Danial huffs with the sword at his side. He was getting impatient with this thing.

Sir Danial : “Umm um um ummm um umm um?” / [Now what it’s talking about?]

Manolo looks concern putting his hand on the one eyed knight’s shoulder.

Manolo : “Coded, hero and alcoholic? Does it mean out of all of us?”

Papyrus : “The ‘Hero’ could be me or Sir Daniel right? But who is this coded?”

Manny shrugs and sighs. If this thing isn’t talking about either of them then he dreads he’s going to have another handful to deal with. Brook stumbles in, sober enough to process what’s going on.

Brook : “Can someone put an end to that dreadful hum please. My skull hurts… Oh? What is that?”

Lewis : “Notta clue. Donno if this thing is talkin’ about us or someone or somethin’ else.”

Brook : “Oh… A living tombstone? Haven’t heard of that but then again…”

Sans : “Living tombstone? Um…”

Sans has heard of that somewhere before. Now he recognizes the voice and can get a vague idea on who “the Coded” is but the other two not so much.

Sans : “Ahh! Now I get it. The Coded is one of the…”

Before Sans could finish the sentence all the sudden they all could hear and feel a loud hollow boom coming from the outside. Out the window there was a pillar of orange light that was nearly as bright as the sun in the moonless midnight sky.

Sir Danial : “Ummm um umm um umm?!” / [What the hell is that?!]

Manolo looks at Sir Danial with a stern look before turning to Lewis, Manny and Sans stepping outside. The orange pillar of light started to warp and distort into three thinner bands of light. The tombstone slate seems to be playing… music? The genre of music seems to be indie rock of some kind. It seems to be alternating between three songs like a radio with a broken scan nob.

“Then you will know what I am thinking…”

“But they told me, "Dance…”

“But now I'm feeling so beautiful…”

The runes are glowing the same shade of safety orange as the warping beams of light. Then the three beams meet back into each other causing a flashbang with three streaks streaming through the sky like shooting stars with one of them colliding into the lighthouse on the shore a few miles away from the cantina. The other two forked west into one of the beaches while the other east into the outskirts. The bonehead crow looks at each other with a mixture of concern and confusion as the voice from the tombstone slate coming clearly this time before glow from the runes die down and it becomes silent.

??? : “They are here… Find them.”

The Bonehead crew decides to split up into three teams to investigate what or who crashed down.

Sans and Jack head to the lighthouse.

Lewis, Manny and Brook go west to the beach.

Manolo along with Papyrus and Sir Danial go east towards the outskirts.

[letters-to-rosie]

Sorry I'm sending so many asks, tho I'm curious if you have any tips on writing race in the Arcane universe. Clearly it's not the same as the real word but it a showrunner were to say point blank that racism doesn't exist in Arcane I think I'd get really mad. Idk, if you're still figuring it out sorry, I I'm just curious

lmao no problem I never stop talking anyway

but not only do I never mind getting asks, I was THRILLED to get this one. this isn't in my wheelhouse. it IS my wheelhouse. it's what I'm getting the phd for so they'll let me teach this sort of shit lol. I was literally so excited when I saw this that I had to make myself get to a certain stopping point on my final paper for my history of race class (how fitting) as a motivation so I could come answer afterward lol

the real key to it is something you've already identified in the ask itself: that it's not the same as the real world, but it's definitely there. and with that in mind we can think of talking about how race comes about

so I'mma break this into two sections. the first is about dealing with race (or racialization) in a fantasy setting like Arcane, and the second will be on how real-world structures still have a bearing on what we write about those fictional worlds and how they're perceived. okay, let's get into it (and let me type properly lol)

Because race isn't rooted in biological reality, it's constantly shifting. It's meanings are never fixed, but because race is a way we naturalize the world around us (much like gender stereotypes), it appears more permanent than it is. Now, this isn't discounting racialized violence any group has endured. But the process of defining who belongs to what group, where the dividing lines are, what racial stereotypes mean, and so on, is ongoing.

Race is a popular way of dealing with difference, but it's far from the only one. So what we have to ask is how a group of people become not just different but fundamentally different in ways you can assign supposed traits and behaviors to them. There are a lot of ways this can happen, and every instance has its own historical specificity. Also, every instance is caught up in a "web," so to speak, of cultural context, understandings, and referents (riffing Clifford Geertz and Stuart Hall a little here) that allow people in that web to make sense of the world around them and to understand themselves. So it's very messy, but often we can find some key events that set the process of making a race, racialization, in motion. A good example IRL is the way that brown people of all backgrounds were racialized as vaguely threatening in post-9/11 America. Another is the Transatlantic slave trade, which gave economic incentives for dehumanizing black people and, eventually in the U.S., created a social structure where people who were only partially black could still be enslaved, which is how you get tan black people like me lol. Another example could be the absorption of various European immigrant groups into whiteness throughout U.S. history, or the effort to separate the Japanese from other East Asians after they beat Russia in a war in 1905.

In general, we're asking "what set racialization in motion?" A war? Colonial expansion? Mass immigration? Capitalism? Usually you don't have just one, and usually race combines with one of those forces to exacerbate a previously-held idea of difference in a society. So all of a sudden those people aren't just different, but they might as well be a different species.

In Arcane, we don't get enough backstory to say anything definitively, but we can assume that the divide between Piltover and Zaun is primarily economic. The game lore suggests some colonization, too. In any case, by the time of the show, there are already:

firmly-established delineations between Piltovans and Zaunites

a stereotyping that hides the complexity of the problems the cities face (see Jayce saying to Viktor that the Zaunites are criminals; of course, he's worried about Jinx, but he's operating on the assumption that the Zaunites are acting up because of their criminality, which hides other motivations for their behavior; in all likelihood, most of them were upset because they couldn't get to work, which would lead to a loss of wages and more economic precarity than they already experience)

a robust system of incarceration, police brutality, and environmental racism leading to disparate health outcomes across groups

and a division of labor that relies on all of the above (though I REALLY wish they'd explain more about the mines I need to KNOW)

So, again, it's not race as such, but it's helpful because we can see that it's not entirely reducible to social class, ether. If it were, Viktor would have had a much easier time, and there would be more economic mobility both up and down the ladder. I think it's more than fair to say that racilization is at work, even though the characters have a wide array of physical features on both sides of the river. Racialization can most certainly happen even when the people involved look mostly alike (see the English and the Irish for the classic example).

Okay, so we've established that some race-y things are going on. What about the second part? What about the real world?

We have to be honest and note that our real-world experiences are going to affect how we engage with these characters. This isn't inherently a bad thing, but it's important that we're aware and cautious, handling the question of race delicately. I, for one, have been really disappointed in some of the audience reception of the show's black characters (and a teeny bit in how I feel like their arcs were rushed compared to the wider cast). I'm not really invested in any ship involving Jayce, not gonna lie (though I will say it takes a lot for me to get invested in a ship in general; I have to really click with it to care), but the hate Mel gets over shipping cannot be separated from mysognoir. It just can't. Likewise, with Ekko, I'm sometimes nervous about descriptions of his body that remind me of the VERY long tradition of fetishizing black men to hell and back. But he also gets the short end of the stick in shipping sometimes, and I think his relatively lower popularity in fandom is likely related to his race.

This is me, a black woman, calling it as I see it. We could also get into Sky, but that's a whole other thing. I think that when we engage with these characters, it's important to note what is actually in the text and what might be a projection of our world's current concepts of race onto the fantasy world.

So, for example, assuming Caitlyn is better at math than Vi because her facial features are East Asian. Vi is Jinx's sister. Vi is better at math, presumably, at least in terms of talent, since Vi wouldn't have gotten to go to school. A way to work in the racialization of the show's setting could be for Vi to express frustration with people think ing she's dumb just because of where she's from, or she could be upset she doesn't know something not because she is a Zaunite but because Zaun is so oppressed that Vi never got a proper education.

Mel is a pretty calm character. If someone wrote her as very angry, for example, I'd be like whoa, sounds like the stereotype that black women are angry is at work here. Mel expresses anger at her mother, but otherwise she's very level-headed. For an example in the setting, perhaps Mel tells a close confidante she's a bit tired of the veneer of civility Piltover can put on. Race works in multiple directions. By saying the Zaunite are the rowdy ones, it's saying Piltovans can't be (not that they actually can't, just under their world's racial logic). How would this play out in Mel's life? Could make for an interesting fic.

One example I can speak on personally, because I'm writing it, is my attempt to engage elements of real-world black radicalism with the Arcane universe. Like, I have lines that Ekko says in one chapter that are deeply inspired by one of the most famous Pan-Africanists in U.S. history. But I can't map that thought onto, say, Mel, just because she's black. Her position in the society is such that real-world blackness doesn't really have anything to do with her outside of her reception by the audience. I do, however, engage that sort of thought with other Zaunite characters, mainly Jinx, despite her being white in the real-world framework. In the setting, she's racialized as a Zaunite, and I'm proceeding accordingly, working with those categories of race instead of the ones I deal with in my real life.

Another thing I'm very wary of is beauty being attached to skin color. I'm a bit wary of skin color being mentioned a lot in fics in general, honestly. In a world where skin color isn't the means by which people are divided, it wouldn't be nearly as worth noting. What about...accents? Perceived intelligence? Did Viktor go to Piltover and have people go "oh, you're so articulate"? I bet he did.

Okay, this is getting very long. Pretty much what I'm trying to say is that the answer is to think about what race does in the real world and then think about how it would work in Arcane or any other fantasy setting. What gets people designated as a race? What stereotypes are associated with them? How do people resist this? and so on.

And on the flip side, we have to be attentive to how race in the real world might be coloring our perceptions of certain characters. By being conscious of this, we can avoid potentially reinforcing real-world racial logic. And by examining what racial logic is and what it does, we can become prepared to deal with it in the real world.

(and yeah I would also not enjoy a showrunner saying it doesn't exist in the universe lol)

[myspacepoet]

Go OFF I wanna hear about this au 👀👀👀

HI ANON. um this is gonna be a long one.

so basically its a dnd inspired fantasy au, with the party as their dnd characters, classes pulled from this post , definitely didn't have to scrounge through my save blog for that, by @/elekinetic, if they didn't already have them. because it's real and true.

basest plot outline i can possibly give you is as follows; as young children all of the members of the party were Marked somehow for Evil and Villainous purposes, or perhaps Good and Benevolent purposes, but it stands that they marked. (by whom? well. tch. heh.) this mark comes with this innate.. pull? i guess? to the other members, but not strong enough to be noticeable, more of a seeing the others and thinking "oh! there you are! i've been looking for you!" despite never meeting before. the group starts as mike and will finding each other, before it all kinda spirals and they form a little adventuring party, led to their next destination by their faithful cleric, who alongside the original pull, feels another drawing them all to wherever the universe decides they Need To Be.

that's like. the concept i guess? i really don't want this to run too long so i'm putting more ideas and villainy and art and such under the cut :-D be warned i hate most punctuation and i love to ramble.

OK SO. first of all edward and henry are twins so jot that down. something Terrible and Unspeakable happens to the rest of their family when they're like 12ish and they run for the hills, eventually stumbling upon the mansion dwelling of a reclusive and moderately to severely insane mad... scientist? not entirely sure what brenners fantasy world equivalent profession would be. anyway yeah its brenner the twins are tricked duped swindled and had until theyre locked in his basement and become his newest experiments.

brenner is basically training them to be his guard dogs/weapons of mass destruction and is doing. canon typical things to them. until henry's like hey maybe you're right the world kinda does suck but id be sad if it all burned to the ground :-( i don't see how that's helping. (this is possibly spurred on by a spot of creelarke and scott chilling in gardens and teaching him that not all science is bad and mean and also that brenner is kinda full of shit) and for this grave crime he is locked in the attic.

vague handwavy magic plot bullshit (motives? where were going we dont need motives) blah blah edward has Marked/Cursed the party members woah oh noo!!!

this is mostly a vehicle to think really hard about fantasy byler and lumax and pre-UD-esque henry interacting with the party through their dreams to aid their Great Quest so try not to breath on it too hard. it may or may not fall apart.

OK ART YIPPEE YAHOO LETS GO

side note i know jack shit about dnd races and quite frankly do not care. i said dnd inspired not dnd were going TYPICAL FANTASY RACES ONLY I'M TALKIN ELVES HUMANS DWARVES AND SHIT ELSE.

they all have a more casual outfit for downtime and one for traveling and/or battling etc etc. you get the gist. dustin and lucas aren't done yet and you'd have to take drastic measures to get me to do anything other than type rn.

also have some doodles bc i like you :-) ft. a henry and miwi's first meeting.

i have way more thoughts (particularly regarding max and mikes backstories and mikes oath and 8 thousand other things). but i don't wanna be annoying.

final thing is that for extra credit you are welcome to listen to the moon will sing by the crane wives and think about this au's henry okay byyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (slowly fading away)

[aro-paladin-pidge]

So, yesterday (I think) I posted about some vague ideas I had for what might have happened if the Galra had found Blue pre-canon, right? So I just had an absolute brainwave last night, and now this is a full-fledged au.

A little while ago, I made this post about how bad the character motivations in Voltron were (long story short, only 1 of the 5 paladins’ motivations worked for the plot) and I’ve been contemplating ways the show writers could’ve fixed this (for Lance and Hunk in particular) for quite a while and yesterday’s post fixes goddamn everything.

So, the empire gets the Blue Lion. For plausibility’s sake, I’m going to stretch the date on this way back to ~200 years pre-canon, let’s say after World War 3 (yes World War 3 canonically happened at some point, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it line from Season 7), which could possibly be around the 2100s (no concrete dates are given, so I’m just going off what feels right). The Galra conquer Earth, have Blue for long enough that Haggar/the Druids figure out some way to measure a person’s quintessence for similarities with the Blue Lion, and this quintessence-testing process goes into effect across the universe as the Galra attempt to find a blue paladin.

Eventually, Lance is born, and when he’s 13-14 years old (my best guess for when the Garrison would start taking students, based on real-life military academies and the Season 7 Keith flashbacks) he enrolls in the Garrison, (A Galra-controlled military school in this au) and as part of his physical for entry, they take some of his quintessence, as has been standard policy for the last few decades. They run some tests on it, compare it to Blue’s, and it’s similar enough that he could be a paladin.

So, based on what Allura says in s1e1 about the Lions choosing their paladins based on personality + how Red makes Keith prove himself before choosing him, despite their assumedly compatible quintessence, it’s clear that the lions choose based on two factors: similar quintessence (which seems like the minimum requirement, they HAVE to have similar enough quintessence to make a bond possible) and personality (personal criteria, aka why they choose someone to be a paladin. If the criteria are initially met, but then the paladin changes, like with Zarkon, a Lion can revoke their bond in favor of a better suited paladin. This shit is fascinating, imma write a post on it at some point) but, all this to say that the Galra would probably take Lance to wherever they’re keeping Blue, probably in that giant Central Command ship.

Blue obviously chooses Lance as her paladin, so the Galra basically kidnap him and force him to like, fly Blue for them. Lance is a decent person, so he doesn’t want to, but since the Galra control Earth in this au, they use his family as leverage to force him to. So, for the ~3 years until canon, Lance is a paladin/prisoner of the Galra, so he gets experience as a paladin, actual information about the modern Empire, and a motivation to fight them!

On earth, things would proceed mostly as they do in canon. I’d imagine Keith would know about his Galra heritage and probably have spent some time with the Blade/his mom, but she probably would lose track of him after his dad dies, so he’d still end up with Shiro, as in canon.

Shiro would be a Galra soldier in this au, a talented graduate of the Garrison that maybe has some doubts about the Galra’s mission. He’s assigned to fly a research mission to Kerberos with some scientists (including Matt and Sam, but not just them) and while he’s there, the team comes across something they’re not supposed to, like an Altean ruin or something, idk, this part’s not completely ironed out. So the team disappears, Kerberos mission is scrapped and chalked up to pilot error, and Shiro is sent to the Gladiator pits where he learns the truth about the empire.

Pidge enlists in the Garrison late, as a communications cadet, in order to spy on the Galra and figure out what happened to their family. I’d imagine that they pretty quickly figure out just how bad the empire is after their family goes mission, so they’re a bit of an anti-imperial activist.

Hunk stays mostly the same because he’s already an excellent character that deserved so much better. He and Pidge are placed on the same team with like, James or someone as their pilot. Since James is a jerk, Hunk bonds with Pidge over their shared nerdiness, and when Pidge eventually tells him about how evil the Galra really are, he decides to work with Pidge to find their family and maybe to fight the empire.

When canon hits, the Blade has the same motivation as they do in the show-to get Blue out of the Galra’s hands. Ulaz finds Lance, and eventually convinces him to defect from the empire, promising that the Blade will get his family out of harm’s way. He stages Shiro’s escape as a cover for Lance’s defection, and implants the coordinates for the Blade’s base in Shiro’s hand, telling them to input those coordinates once they’re sure the Galra can’t track them. They both escape on the Blue Lion, but Lance doesn’t really trust these people he’s met, like, twice, so they decide to go back to earth to make sure that his family is actually safe.

On earth, things go bad, because the Blue Lion is 1. Extremely noticeable and distinctive 2. Widely known as the most powerful ship in the Galra arsenal and 3. Was just involved in a major prison breakout. Yikes. Shiro and Lance are ambushed by Galra soldiers the instant they hit ground, resulting in a very big, public battle.

Keith, who is not a weird desert hermit, as Blue is no longer calling out to him and keeping him in the middle of nowhere, sees it on, like, the news or smth, immediately recognizes Shiro, and, just like in canon, rushes in to rescue him. Pidge and Hunk, back at the Garrison, realize that that’s Shiro, who disappeared with Pidge’s family a year ago. They rush out to find him, and all of the paladins meet up in Cuba, right in time for another big battle where they learn how to work together. They manage to defeat the Galra, but more reinforcements are coming, so they decide to get the hell out of dodge and get to the Blade headquarters.

Unfortunately, the Galra send a giant fleet after them, resulting in a huge, destructive battle, and Blue is forced to flee through a wormhole, sending them to, surprise surprise, Arus. Cue the rest of the series, but with paladins who have actual motivation to form Voltron and fight the Galra, characters who have worked together before, and someone who knows how to fly the Lions.

I do have another version of this au, which I think is way more interesting, both plotwise and characterwise, but it would dramatically upend the status quo of the story, change pretty much everything about the power scaling and overall stakes of the series, so I’m not sure about it. I’ll outline it briefly here.

Basically, the Galra Empire has to have some pretty great propaganda, right? I mean, they’re an incredibly oppressive, authoritarian empire that has had absolute control over the universe for 10,000 years, there’s no way that happened without excellent propaganda. So, what if Lance, who is 13 years old and signs up to be a Galra soldier at the Garrison in this au, is actually convinced by the Galra that he’s doing something good by serving the Galra? Idk how Shiro would get out of the gladiator rings here-maybe the Blade instigates a prisoner revolt, and Ulaz recognizes Shiro as the guy who’s most likely to survive, and gives him the coordinates bc of that-but he gets back to earth, finds Keith, Pidge, Hunk, and maybe even Adam, and they get to the blade headquarters, find the Red Lion, and get to Arus from there. This would make Lance a kind of villain for the first few seasons, and make the paladins unable to form Voltron, which I think would be fascinating, but would kinda necessitate an entire rewrite. This is where the ‘No Blue AU’ name came from, since the other one does have Blue in it. Maybe I’ll call that one ‘Yes Blue AU’.

[feverdreamjohnny]

Nowhere, MI - Story Goals

This post talks about my goals with the narrative and the themes I want to go over with Nowhere, MI. There is a major spoiler regarding the second act of the story, but it's been helpfully marked with big spoiler tags so you'll know what to skip if you want to enjoy the game blind.

Why am I writing this? I think it's fun to have little scraps left over so when a game's done you can laugh at how quaint some of the ideas were when they've been run through the wringer to the point that they can no longer be recognized. Consider this a little personal journal.

On a final note, if you do read the spoilers, recognize that what's there probably won't show up in the final game in the way I've talked about it. Nobody can predict the weather. More than a year from now the final ending could be extremely different than what you're going to read.

With that said, let's get cracking.

The main thing I want to focus on is that James' sole objective is JUST to rescue Alex. He initially does "good things" solely because they aid him in getting closer to saving his brother in order to alleviate his own guilt for having driven him away from home. I don't want the game to turn into one of those "okay I want a bottle of milk" to "now we must kill god to save the multiverse!!!" type stories because I despise that format immensely. It's an overplayed narrative arc and it sucks. "Hero from humble beginnings with basic goals having to own up to his legacy as the true hero of fate or whatever" crap. It's abysmal and plays into some kind of weird idea that every person who motivates major events in the history of a narrative is some kind of fated hero/villain who embodies some vague universal concept of good or evil. That idea doesn't really translate to real life, people's motivations are complex and typically don't just converge to "hero of destiny." Not every historically "good" action comes from a place of moral righteousness.

James is selfish. That's the main thing I want Nowhere, MI to convey. He's rescuing his brother because he was the one who drove him away, and the guilt of having done the wrong thing is what compels him to try and rescue him. He's not here to save the world or Nowhere itself, he's here to get his brother and go home because he thinks it can redeem the negligence he showed his family during their father's decline.

Concord serves as James' missing conscience. He's optimistic and upbeat, he's sensitive and empathetic, he's everything James fails to be. The reason he exists is to try and help James improve, but the point the game makes is that there isn't just a simple cure for being a bad person. An adventure in a fun and strange town doesn't fix years and years of learned behavior. James is initially so adverse to helping people who don't benefit him that he's willing to abandon Concord in the Nerve Cradle because he doesn't deem him as "useful" enough in the search for his brother. James doesn't want a talking gun so he can play hero, he just wants information towards finding his brother so that he can leave. It's only because Concord might know something about Alex that James considers taking him along.

The adventure that follows is James having to help people through their individual struggles because in return they can help him continue his search for Alex. The process of doing this is the initial breakthrough for helping James grow as a person once the adventure is over, but the adventure itself isn't where James makes a 180 and turns into a beautiful shining hero. He's still just focused on fixing what he did wrong for his own reasons.

This next part is a MAJOR spoiler for the second act of the game, so please skip it if you want to wait for the full game. You'll know when a spoiler's about to happen when you see a block of text between two [!SPOILER!] tags:

[!SPOILER!]

During the end of Act 1, James and Concord find Alex's body. He died in a freak accident while trying to find a cure for their ailing father. What's left of Alex's body is reanimated and feral, and attacks James and Concord using the surrogates Alex found during his own journey to Nowhere. Once it's defeated, bright fragments escape from the body and collect in Concord.

Suddenly, Concord regains his memories and it's revealed that Concord is actually Alex's soul trapped in a gun. The two brothers speak face to face for the first time (well, first time that Alex was whole again after running away from home) and James reveals that their father died while Alex was gone, rendering his entire "journey for the cure" futile. The two resolve that they can at least try and save Alex by finding Nox, a god of entropy who Alex believed had the ability to undo their father's illness.

The adventure does culminate in James having to kill a god of sorts, but it's not some heroic journey to save the world. Nox, who's power results in the miraculous inky rot that allows human souls to possess objects, just wants to be left alone. His powers are volatile and inherently against life itself. Despite being a god of entropy, he's extremely guilty about his past actions in the town and doesn't want to hurt anyone ever again. He's not sealed away because some council of elders dared to stop his horrible reign of terror, he sealed himself away because he's afraid of the nature of his own existence. James undoes Nox's own efforts because he's desperate to save Alex, disregarding the fact that Nox's imprisonment was probably for the best. Nox - being as courteous as he is - hears the brothers out, but declines their request because undoing Alex's transformation into a poltergeist could have unpredictable consequences. He wants the brothers to just seal him back inside the tomb and leave. While Alex is willing to accept this because he understands what's at stake, James is blinded with rage and decides to fight Nox and make him yield.

James doesn't end up killing Nox because he's a hero, James kills him because he's enraged that he's being denied what he believes he and Alex are owed. Despite all of the effort to improve, at the end of the day James is still selfish. In the aftermath when James sacrifices all of his surrogates to revive Alex as a human, Alex doesn't get to confront him about what just happened because James has fallen asleep thanks to Nox's powers draining his body of energy. The final sequence is a montage of Alex dragging James back through all of the levels to the truck, pilfering James' keys from his pocket, and driving them both home.

The point is to have enough of a character arc to feel like James is growing as a person the more he explores Nowhere, but I want to emphasize that at the end of the day, old habits die hard and that a couple days won't be enough to fix years of troubled thinking.

[!SPOILER!]

Anyhow, that's all I have to share for today. I can't predict if Nowhere will live up to the planning document I wrote, but regardless of what comes out of it, just know it comes from the heart.

Thanks for reading.

[reachexceedinggrasp]

(my original ramble from *cough* months ago that fuck it I should just post because I’m going to have to start over and this will no longer make sense once I finish the whole show)

In fairness, I've still only watched 8 episodes and I've seen more than one person say the thing doesn't properly get going until around episode 10, but I struggle to understand why Chuno is so highly regarded and enjoys almost universal acclaim. Maybe the momentum does pick up, but I don't know how much that's going to help since pacing is not really the problem I have with how it's going so far. The pacing is fine, my problem is lack of direction and lack of heart. It doesn't appear to be really about anything.

I’ve been stuck for agessss, first on ep 7 and now ep 8, and since scrubbing through some of the later eps to fix the subs after finally finding it in semi-decent quality, as far as I can determine the thesis statements of the series are: a) slavery possibly bad b) Daegil loves Ennoyeon absolutely unconditionally and always will and this may or may not be admirable of him c) loyalty??? something about saving the crown prince’s last surviving kid

And that’s it. That’s everything. It has nothing more specific to say and has almost no commentary on those two vague things that it does say. It just wants to point them out. There’s a repeated thematic beat about human dignity and not judging by appearances, but with only one exception thus far, dehumanisation is always tied directly back to the literal institution of slavery. The larger point about classism and prejudice is not developed despite looming hugely over the proceedings. It feels... hollow? I have a disconnect from what’s happening.

The positives are the fight scenes (rightfully revered, they’re balletic and gorgeous and all the work put in by the actors is fully captured by the fluid cinematography- totally get why everyone remembers these visuals, they are insanely good) and the music. The music is fantastic. That main fight song evokes historic grandeur and scale but it also has tonnes of individual personality and is an absolute banger. The editing and score always work together in a way that creates great atmosphere, powerful juxtapositions, and many iconic images. Like, A+ work on sensory storytelling, it frequently looks and feels incredibly cool and/or epic.

But it’s not a well-written show, man. There’s no real meat under all that artful presentation. The story and characters are so paper thin that I really struggle to care about them, even when there’s occasional good dialogue.

It has great eye candy (in both the usual sense and in that it just looks good in general- the stylish action beats, the stunning vistas, the grand scope), but there's no emotional core, no anchor. I'm on episode 8 and I have no idea what the actual story being told is supposed to be. It's endless exposition involving characters I mostly see no reason to care about and one giant, aimless, interminable, slow-motion chase sequence. There's certainly a prevailing theme about the rich and powerful grinding down the poor and how this creates a cycle of violence, but there's no substantive narrative tying any of it together or providing a way in for the audience. It's more of an amorphous blob of miseryporn with cheap cliffhangers than it is a story with a committed, focussed point (even one as facile as 'slavery bad', because for all the suffering on display the actual slaves are relegated to subplots, the show does not centre 'unjust society' as the villain despite feinting in that direction).

Out of the three leads, only Dae-gil is even a bit engaging to me on a pure writing level. He has some hints of genuine complexity that cause a lot of tension in everything he does, which is interesting, but he's also very, very static and opaque. You don’t really know what he’s thinking or feeling a lot of the time or what his larger motives are. But at least you wonder about him. The other two are so insufferably, staggeringly, impossibly boring that I cannot even imagine wanting to know more. The fallen general is a featureless plank of wood who causes my attention to wander every time he’s on screen and the girl is essentially a sentient piece of luggage with whom everyone falls in love for no adequately explained reason. Then these, the two most boring people in the universe, team up to be even more boring together.

It also outright lies to me with almost every episode-ending cliffhanger, in a way that borders on comic. Where the closing cliffhanger scene will be played differently with different shots in the opening of the following episode (eg: the closing sequence will have shown a big reaction of obvious shocked realisation on someone’s face as they catch sight of the person/thing they’re seeking, but the opening sequence replays the moment without the character noticing anything). Misleading us is fine, fake-outs can be okay if you don't overdo it, but fuck you show, blatant lying is too far!

Apparently it takes 15 episodes for Dae-gil and the luggage to even meet again and I'm so tired at the very idea of what nonsense will go on between now and then. I’m told there’s also no real emotional payoff or honest conversation between them later anyway. I love his undying devotion as a characterisation choice, I find his complicated attitude towards her and how it contrasts (and doesn’t) to the flashbacks really compelling in theory, but what is the point? She is a total nonentity and there’s no actual content to their relationship- there’s just the idea of it. What is he fighting for? He was this pure-hearted, clear-eyed idealist who wanted to change the world for her, then he became cynical when she left him for dead, and now he just seems ambivalent about slavery and the status quo. Disgusted by it but complicit in it. What is his suffering for? What has he learned? What’s my takeaway from this? I mean, I need to watch the rest, obviously, but seeing bits from later episodes, I’m already frustrated.

These characters just go nowhere. It feels like nothing much changes with any of them.

Don’t get me wrong, I 10000% understand why Dae-gil is an iconic performance that’s indelible in the minds of audiences and will forever define a huge part of JH’s legacy as an actor. It deserved every accolade! But it’s because of his performance not the character on the page. No one else would have been that iconic in this role. The character on the page is every bit as anaemic, thin, and lacking personality as General Balsawood and the Living China Doll. The writing is just as one note, he’s just as much of a flat, stoic cipher as Tae Ha. The reason he feels like something more than that and is about ten million times more compelling to watch than the other two leads is the utterly towering charisma of an actor who is perfectly in his element playing this part, determined to fully inhabit the role with total abandon. There’s an absolute commitment to the character that infuses everything he does on screen with life and mystery.

Jang Hyuk is making this underwritten, one-note person engaging through sheer presence and his empathy as an actor; he has this unmatched ability to bring genuine humanity to archetypal badasses and it’s the exact same quality that makes him so mesmerising as Bang-won and Oh Hyun Jae and Doctor Lee. He can be scary and vulnerable, compassionate and callous, desperate and untouchable all at the same time. There’s so much tension in the way he plays these parts, like they’re at war with themselves, really making you believe their choices are an organic manifestation of troubled psyches, and that makes the characters feel incredibly real. He creates something endearing and intriguing out of rote tough guy bullshit by always allowing a child-like element into these macho personas, a melancholy note of broken idealism.

There is a primary lack of vanity in his approach to playing the ‘cool guy’ that elevates the whole enterprise and allows you to view a stylised character as if they were a real person. He presents no sense of self-consciousness or awareness of his own image in these performances, he makes you believe he just is and it’s all effortless and that puts him in the ranks of the all-time great Byronic heroes. He is aspirational but relatable, charming without trying to be, dark without becoming unsympathetic. Those things make him seem dynamic even when the writing isn’t. If Oh Ji Ho or another equally boring actor had played Dae-gil, he’d be just as boring as Tae Ha.

For example: All three lead characters have a deliberately huge contrast between who they used to be in their past circumstances and what they are in the present of the show, but the only one who actually conveys this shift in identity with his mannerisms is Dae-gil. He comports himself so differently that you could, in fact, be completely forgiven for not recognising him as the same person; the way he speaks, the way he carries himself, the habitual set of his features, the look in his eyes, etc. has all changed. He is a radically different man than he was, obviously transformed from within by his traumatic experiences and also forced to alter his outward behaviour in order to survive.

The other two change outfits a couple times. Nothing else about them illustrates any kind of shake-up in their class status or self-understanding or emotional state. Ennoyeon’s sameness against Dae-gil’s sea-change makes her empty artificiality even more egregious. She should be just as unrecognisable as he is, her rise parallels his fall and is equally drastic.

Imo it’s 30% fortuitous casting of the exact right person and 70% JH doing all the work that makes Dae-gil an iconic character.

And I figure he alone might deserve most of the credit for creating this performance* considering how terrible Lee Da Hae is as the luggage. I know she’s not a terrible actress, she was perfectly fine in Robber, so the fact that she’s this expressionless, lifeless, sucking void of Perfect Noblewoman stereotypes (especially frustrating because she’s supposed to have been raised a slave and it makes no sense she’s this delicate, sheltered wilting flower) is something I’m going to blame on the director. I haven’t seen Oh Ji Ho in anything else, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe he could do better than this, too. His woodenness might have been intended as the character being closed off, but in order for that to work you have to show there’s something going on under the surface and there isn’t. He’s got zero presence in this part, he’s overshadowed even by the one-scene day players.

So the director clearly wasn’t helping anyone much with their acting, is what I’m saying. Dae-gil’s two bros were all right, though General Choi is also a bit wooden and the ‘funny’ one can be kinda try-hard. None of the relationships in the show were super convincing, but the three of them at least had good chemistry together and comprehensible motivations. The same cannot be said of General Balsawood and the luggage, who had the opposite of chemistry. The two of them together is like watching paint dry. If the paint and the wall also somehow didn’t seem to like each other despite being inanimate.

The music is really fucking great though. I strongly suspect a massive amount of this show’s huge cultural impact comes from the epic music along with dazzling fight choreography, superbly shot, and great overall style distracting you from how boring most of the characters are. Coolness is doing a lot of heavy lifting. Even with Dae-gil, part of the appeal is definitely that he’s so cool that it covers how opaque he is as a character despite the phenomenal depth of agony he expresses. That action scene in the first episode is incredibly memorable and I can see how if you watched this on TV spread out over weeks, you’d just focus on the spectacular parts and the big tableaux with their effective imagery while forgetting the dragging, meandering, undefined slog that is the rest of it.

Edit from 300 years later: I mean, going further, and having watched some more contemporary shows, I’d venture that the action scenes are almost revolutionary for this kind of tv. They’re on a level so far above what I’ve seen in other historical dramas from that decade, it might be fair to credit them with the show’s success. The way they’re shot is genuinely beautiful and allows you to follow the flow of the action and actually see what’s going on in a way that’s still rare now. It just makes it ten thousand times more impressive when you can appreciate the choreography playing out in full, and the lack of ridiculous sound effects or wire-work is a big plus. People do flips, but they’re real flips done for real, not gravity-defying hovering.

(I am fine with ridiculous ott magic-fighting existing, it’s just when it’s in shows that are otherwise super grounded in the real world and played totally straight that I’m like ‘wat’. If people can fly, you need to set a tone where that seems appropriate; if you haven’t, the fights should remain tonally consistent and be believable - they don’t have to be realistic, they do have to be believable.)

Like, I’m watching the white whale show now (Daemang, the Great Amibtion, which was a white whale because it seemed like I would never be able to find it) and while it’s totally exceeding my expectations and is in fact genuinely wonderful as a show, the action scenes are terrible. It’s the anti-Chuno: the characters are fantastic, the story is thematically focussed and deeply profound, and the action is almost unwatchable. The fights are shot so badly that you have no idea what you’re looking at, there’s no sense of continuous movement or screen geography, and the sound effects are absurdly silly. The actors look super uncomfortable and mostly unconvincing.

I don’t know who decided constant fast cutting was a good way to cover action, but it’s just not. Even if you have to hide stuntmen or that what the character is supposed to be doing is physically impossible, you still shouldn’t cut every nanosecond. There are better ways to do it. The truly egregious offence is cutting people who can do the thing in a such a way that it looks like they can’t. If the actors can fight fluidly and do their own stunts, my dude you need to let the audience see it. Not that I tried to watch Voice and got motion sickness or anything.

Anyway, my point here is that Chuno’s action scenes are basically the Citizen Kane of action scenes in historical dramas and that plus coolness plus bulletproof anti-hero archetype played by a human inferno of charisma plus tragic romance is probably enough reason for it to take off. I still don’t get its sterling reputation as a masterpiece or why people think it’s such a great story (knowing very loosely where it goes and how it ends, I currently stand by my ‘vague directionless miseryporn’ assessment), but I do admire those elements. It’s a subpar whole with some really, really successful parts. I find I’d like to read fanfic that fleshed out Ennoyeon and her relationship with Dae-gil, so I’m buying in at least that much.

*he even choreographed his own action scenes. Learning that he did this blew my mind. Like... how? How was that allowed? How did he know how to do that? How could he be so good? I understand he was a gymnast and studied martial arts very seriously and went to university for theatre, but none of that really explains for me his ability to be a fight coordinator or do screen action at that level. He didn’t actually do a huge amount action before this! Maybe I’m overestimating how much experience/training you need to get handed that kind of responsibility even on a big budget production. Maybe I’m underestimating how much the director wanted him to play this part since JH said it was his request to design his own fights. An excellent call by the director in hindsight but must have seemed wildly risky at the time.

I think I read this show was over budget before it even started shooting, so maybe recklessness was a theme with the director. Paid off for them, though, didn’t it.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

Gabriel Agreste: Interesting Villain, Horrible Character (400 Follower Special)

I'm honestly surprised more people didn't want me to talk about Gabriel, especially with how often I rag on how horrible of a person he is. But, three character analysis posts later, and we're going to talk about why the main villain of Miraculous Ladybug is a real letdown.

Gabriel Needs to give the Whining a Rest

The interesting thing is one of the few things I actually liked in Season 3 was Hawkmoth. His plans actually made sense (for the most part), and by playing the long game, he managed to turn Chloe against Ladybug and deprived her of several key allies. Granted, Season 4 immediately undid the latter, but I was still impressed by his strategy.

Generally, one of the better aspects of Gabriel as a character was just how over the top he was as Hawkmoth. Keith Silverstein is clearly giving it his all with his performance, and he is just so enjoyable to watch as a cartoonish supervillain.

And therein lies the first major problem with Gabriel as a character. While he is fun to watch as a simple supervillain, the show tries to give him more depth and unintentionally makes him worse.

In Season 2, when it was revealed that Gabriel was Hawkmoth, many fans speculated on what he needed the Miraculous for, until the Queen Bee Trilogy showed it was to save his possibly dead wife, Emilie. The idea of that is so the show can give more depth to its main villain, and I think it's an interesting idea in concept. After all, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

The problem is just how radically different Gabriel is normally compared to how he is as Hawkmoth. He always goes on about how he's “doing this for Emilie”, but it's hard to really sympathize with him when you consider he constantly gives evil monologues and evil laughs, really getting into the supervillain role. And let's not forget all of the “I'm going to wear Ladybug's skin as a suit” faces he loves to make.

Clearly this man is the picture of mental stability.

Gabriel's motivation for being Hawkmoth when compared to what he actually does as Hawkmoth is shady enough, but the thing is that the writers clearly want the audience to at least feel a little bad for him. They want to make the audience sympathize with him despite the way he acts with or without the mask. Without Miraculous Ladybug, he is routinely putting innocent lives in danger and never once shows regret for his actions. All he talks about is how “he's doing this for Emilie”, or that “he'll get their Miraculous soon”. There's no real reason to feel bad for him other than “because the script says so”.

Let's compare Gabriel to Malcolm Merlyn from Arrow. His big plan in the first season of the show is to create a machine that will cause an earthquake to destroy a crime-infested portion of Starling City, claiming to be trying to help everyone, but it's clear he is only doing it out of revenge for his wife getting killed by a criminal from that part of the city. In addition, throughout that season and future seasons, he always makes sure his plans lead to him benefiting in some way, showing he isn't just some noble man trying to achieve his goals with a less than noble method.

If we got some moments that showed that what Gabriel was doing was selfish, it would make him a more complex villain. But we don't get anything like that. What do we get instead? Well...

I Could Really Care Less About Emilie Agreste

We have known Gabriel's motivation has been to save his wife for a little over two years at this point, but at the same time, it's hard to believe that motivation because of how underdeveloped Emilie is as a character.

There have been a total of two lines in the entirety of the show that explain what happened to Emilie, and they're both vague as hell. One of them was from “Feast” that implied Emilie used the broken Peacock Miraculous.

Adrien: My mom used to have dizzy spells… just like Nathalie.

And the other that outright tells the audience what's happening to her in a clip show that most people will skip.

Nathalie: As I've watched Emilie falling deeper into an endless sleep, my sadness for her has deepened, too

That is literally all we get for an explanation, and nothing else. We have no idea of what she's like as a person or what her relationship with her family was like other than Gabriel and Adrien saying they miss her. Other than the way the narrative says she's important to Gabriel and Adrien, we don't really have a reason to care about her as a character. There have also been some lines that imply she went along with Gabriel's questionable parenting techniques, like how he was apparently only homeschooled as a kid (Origins) and never had a birthday party growing up (The Bubbler), so how do we even know if she's a good person? In fact, why not set up this question as a mystery to make the audience wonder if Gabriel has another reason to bring Emilie back?

It ultimately turns Emilie into a plot device and not a character that Gabriel and Adrien only bring up to make the audience feel bad for them, and meant to justify Gabriel's actions by saying that he's “doing this for his family”.

But hey, if he's doing this all for his family, surely Gabriel's redeeming traits come from his relationship with Adrien, right? Right?

As a Parent, Gabriel is Far From the Best

I've talked about this briefly before, but parenting in Miraculous Ladybug is written in such a black and white way, even by the standards of this show. Parents are portrayed in one of two ways. They're either amazing people who love and support their children unconditionally, or they're awful people who treat their own children like trash. And much like a lot of things in this show, there are times where the latter is treated like the former.

There are so many times where the narrative insists on making you see Gabriel as a troubled, but wellmeaning person who tries his best to be a good parent to Adrien, but it is far from the truth.

I'm not going to beat around the bush. Gabriel is a terrible parent. Like, he is awful at being a parent in so many ways, even before you find out he's Hawkmoth. In his first appearance, “The Bubbler”, he delegates getting Adrien a birthday present to Nathalie, his assistant. He literally can't be bothered to take time out of his schedule to get his own son a present for his birthday. And as the show goes on, he becomes more controlling and forbids Adrien from going out with his friends in other episodes (Captain Hardrock, Silencer). While this could be used to show Gabriel getting worse, it's never acknowledged in-universe, with Adrien continually defending his father essentially keeping him on house arrest.

“But IOTA!” You might say. “Gabriel has made efforts to bond with his son in some episodes.” While that might be true, most of those come right after his Akumas have almost gotten Adrien killed. He only hugged Adrien and made an attempt to learn more about him after Simon Says invaded their home, he only decided to watch that movie Emilie was in with Adrien after Gorizilla nearly dropped him off a building, and he only hugged Adrien again in public after he was turned into a gold statue by Style Queen.

In fact, let's talk about how Gabriel acts in the Queen Bee Trilogy. He actually decides to quit being Hawkmoth, but it's not because he realizes all the damage he's caused. Instead, he gave up because his “magnum opus”, a stronger than usual Akuma that only got the advantage on Ladybug ironically because of dumb luck, failed. Sure, he says he can't keep putting his son in danger, but he rarely ever acknowledges that he does so in the first place. When Riposte wanted to fight Adrien, Hawkmoth did nothing to stop her other than giving her a stern warning earlier on and nothing else. Where was this attitude earlier?

Hell, even then, he immediately goes back to being Hawkmoth as soon as he sees an opportunity, not even a day after his “mAgNuM oPuS” blew up in his face (because I guess Scarletmoth was just Plan B). If he made such a big deal about caring for his son, why didn't he try harder to spend time with him? Has he ever had doubts about what he's doing before? If Chloe didn't show up as Queen Bee, was he going to follow through on his promise and try to be a better father to Adrien instead of trying to get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous?

And yeah, the whole irony is that Gabriel is doing this for his family when he is unknowingly fighting his own son, which could lead to some interesting drama if done right. The idea of how Gabriel would react to his son being Cat Noir could really lead to some internal struggles for him to go through. But then we got “Cat Blanc”, which shows just how terrible of a character Gabriel is.

In an alternate timeline where he found out his son was Cat Noir, what does Gabriel do? Does he try to steal Adrien's Miraculous while he's sleeping? Does he reconsider his actions or realize he was endangering Adrien's life?

NOPE! He just decides to akumatize him all while emotionally tormenting him, before causing the end of the world.

This is honestly one of the most appalling things I've ever seen in any TV show, because it's basically an abusive father ordering his son to listen to him all while referencing his (kind of) dead mother to back up his point. And rather than use this to show how despicable Gabriel is, the episode decides to blame Marinette for this happening. Yes, according to the show, her present to Adrien caused several events to happen which caused Cat Blanc, but this logic makes no sense. It's like blaming the JFK assassination on the man who sold a gun to Lee Harvey Oswald, instead of, you know, Lee Harvey Oswald.

Not only was this episode yet another excuse to blame Marinette for something that wasn't her fault, it leads into the biggest problem I have with Gabriel as a character.

Sympathize with Gabriel? Surely, You Jest

After everything I've gone over regarding Gabriel as a character, after all the awful things I've talked about, are you really surprised that I don't feel bad for him at all?

Gabriel is just an awful character and a despicable human being, but the show just keeps wanting me to feel bad for him. It's just so hard to when you consider everything he's done has made him anything but sympathetic. I'm just saying, it's kind of hard to feel bad for someone who tries to start World War III with the only justification being “i'M dOiNg It FoR mY fAmIlY”, especially when he treats his family like crap.

The writers go out of their way to show how horrible Gabriel is as Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth, but they think because they throw in a few moments where he looks conflicted, we'll immediately feel bad for him. What makes so many people interested in seeing Chloe become a better person is that they can tell she's the victim of a troubled upbringing, and know that because she's only a teenager, she still has room to grow as a person, represented by having more honest moments of vulnerability. Gabriel is a grown man who once caused the apocalypse because of how terrible of a parent he is, and has even fewer sympathetic moments than Chloe does. Which one of these two is supposedly irredeemable? The answer may surprise you.

But the frustrating thing is that this kind of villain could have worked. Instead of making him this mustache-twirling psychopath, show how much Gabriel regrets what he has to do, but keeps pushing onward despite all the lives he's risking if it means that he can save his wife. Instead of making Gabriel like Lex Luthor, make him like Mr. Freeze, who is basic a better written version of him.

But as it stands, there's a good reason why Gabriel gets little to no respect as a character in the Miraculous Ladybug fandom, as a villain, or as a father.

[septembriseur]

I want to come back to this article, which I reblogged a post from (after seeing it reblogged by loads of people on my dash). I recommend reading the article if you haven’t done so. Its central argument revolves around the idea that “modern liberal democracy presents itself as non-ideological beyond ideology,” and that ideology itself is always presented in literature/media as unacceptably violent— villainous. (I would argue that, in fact, any sort of cultural “accretion,” in the sense that culture is perceived as "on top of” and obscuring universalized western ideology,  is tolerated only insofar as it is not really taken specifically or seriously. That’s why even characters who are presented as deeply religious (think of Matt Murdock or Rogue One’s Baze and Chirrut) are portrayed as religious in a way that is broad, universal, flexible, and vague. 

One issue that the article doesn’t really delve into is that supposedly “ideologue” villains are actually profoundly anideological, except insofar as their ideology is, like, anti- modern liberal democracy’s lack of ideology. A really interesting example of this is in Iron Man: Tony Stark gets held hostage by a group of extremists whose extreme belief is... well... even the MCU wiki seems unable to provide any detail on this beyond “destroying world peace.” The film employs a weird move where it obviously relies on the Afghan setting of the villainous Ten Rings to suggest associations with radical Islamism, yet also provides evidence that the Ten Rings are not Islamists. On the one hand, it provides a sort of generic Western specter of radical Islamists— brown men speaking foreign languages and living in Afghan caves— and on the other hand it coyly removes all potential religious, political, or cultural motivation for their actions. These guys aren’t impoverished tribesmen who’ve been subject to tumultuous centuries of imperial warfare, and they’re not religious extremists living out masculine power fantasies. They’re just a group of dudes who kind of look vaguely Middle Eastern and kind of sound vaguely Middle Eastern (since Arabic and Persian are the languages we hear the most). 

Of course, there’s a real-world explanation for this: Marvel wants to be able to tap into that specter of radical Islamism without offending Muslim consumers. But the textual effect is to create a picture of the world in which terrorism in Afghanistan is evacuated of all meaning. Don’t get me wrong: terrorism in Afghanistan is unbelievably destructive and to a large extent nihilistic, in that it benefits no one and spreads only despair and suffering. But at the same time, it arises out of a historical, political, economic, and religious-cultural context, and if you refuse to understand this context, then you will fail to understand why people make the choice to become terrorists (or how to stop them).

That’s the real problem here: the creation of a world in which the only rational choice is modern liberal democracy, and all other choices are nonsensical. 

Marvel is a great site at which to explore this, simply because there’s so much of it. (You could also easily look at Star Wars, as MacQuarrie does in that article— why does the First Order want power? New extended universe writers have fleshed this out more in their web of liminally canonical texts, but on screen the answer seems to be, in the words of the also-manifestly-guilty-of-this-and-guilty-in-other-ways Joss Whedon’s Dr. Horrible: “the world is a mess, and I just need to rule it.”) 

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is a wildly characteristic example of this. It has the thankless task of trying to engage with the effects of the canonically almost effect-free (cf Spider-man: Far From Home) blip, and pieces together a weirdly nonsensical storyline in which the blip enable border-free mass migration, which was revoked when the other half of the world’s population reappeared. The plot revolves around a group of super soldier refugees/displaced persons who want to stop borders from being reimposed on the world. Sam Wilson refers to the refugees as “people who have been welcomed into countries that previously kept them out with barb wire,” and indeed it's hard to imagine any version of this narrative in which the “migration” we’re talking about is the migration of Global South nationals to the Global North. There’s a really plausible specter here: the Global North does source its manual and domestic labor from the Global South while, whenever possible, keeping Global South nationals out with barbed wire. It does make sense that the Global North would import laborers and then attempt to deport them when their presence was no longer convenient. That is, in fact, literally what has happened/is happening in the UK to foreign healthcare workers during the pandemic.

However, as in Iron Man, Marvel wants to mobilize a specter while also evacuating it of all meaning. None of the displaced people we see in TFATWS bear any resemblance to real-world displaced persons. In spite of their United Colors of Benetton racial diversity, they display no marks of culture, religion, nationality, or indeed poverty. They even have British and American accents. They are completely neutral in every way.

This matters for several reasons. First of all, it allows the viewer to differentiate between the migrants on-screen— Western-looking, English-speaking, non-religious— with migrants off-screen: [perceived to be] too religious, non-English-speaking, culturally and racially “other.” Secondly (again as with Iron Man), it removes all context from the act of migration. Why did these people become migrants? Uh... because of the blip, I guess? Beyond some vague references to suffering, it’s never addressed. This allows the viewer to completely detach the question of migrants/displacement from any of its structural context. Why do people migrate in the real world? Because their countries have been completely devastated by warfare, often proxy warfare carried out by imperial states. Because climate change has completely devastated the regions where they live, with or without triggering devastating warfare. Because they belong to ethnic, political, and/or religious groups that are being systematically destroyed by state governments. Because colonialism and neoliberal capitalism have completely devastated the economies of the regions where they live. This is why the stakes of migration are high. 

If, as the show suggests, people just migrate for various personal reasons that really aren’t that important, then the stakes are not high, and we don’t have to feel bad about the behavior of our governments. This is a huge problem at a time when Denmark is shipping Syrian asylum-seekers back to Syria because it’s apparently fine now, Joe Biden is failing to make good on campaign promises about increasing refugee quotas, the UK is housing asylum seekers in situations that violate human rights law, migrant drownings in the Mediterranean Sea have become a regular feature, and the United States has systematically resisted fulfilling its promises to Iraqis and Afghans who risked their lives working for US forces in exchange for visas.

But, like, above and beyond the specific political issue of migration: what is the Flag Smasher ideology? “One world, one people.” I accept that there might be some viewers (mostly those with no knowledge or experience of immigration) who oppose this on principle, but it seems pretty obviously... good. So the bad part is... that they’re fighting for it? (According to people in my notes, this is Bad.) It’s possible to read this as another example of what the MacQuarrie article discusses: personal violence good, ideological violence bad. However, once again we have an example of an ideology that is not ideological, an ideology that is a specter cleaned out of any possible substance. The nonsensical choice here (the one beside which modern liberal democratic norms are obvious) is the choice to commit violence when there is no urgency that justifies this— none of the urgency that, in fact, exists in the real world, and explains why people regularly sacrifice their lives in desperate attempts to escape their homes. 

This is a really good example of how capitalism— a force with no real agency or subject, no evil committee planning its deeds— ends up enacting a project that systematically enforces its ideology. Attempts to render narratives apolitical are themselves profoundly political, even when justified in terms of appeal to the consumer. This is one of the most dangerous aspects of media, IMHO. 

[the-chosen-none]

I think I’ve come to a realization about what Arroyo really is...

Even though it wasn’t founded that long ago in the grand scheme of things, what little we do know about its inner workings is that they have a polytheistic belief system and their own rituals and myths, including venerating their founder the Vault Dweller to an almost godlike-level, that don’t seem to have anything to do with any common religions practiced in the U.S. It’s vaguely pagan mixed with a very generalized idea of what Native American culture was supposed to be like pre-colonization.

Detailed religions like that don’t spring up out of nowhere across only a few generations, the founders of Arroyo would have had to make that shit up. It’s not like one of those belief systems where all the lore stuff is purely metaphorical to them, no- people like Hakunin GENUINELY believe their gods, whatever they may be, are real, which would especially be the case for those born into it.

The Fallout Bible confirmed that Arroyo’s tribalism came about from the former vault dwellers’ rejection of the Vaults and the technology that led to everything bad currently happening. Therefore, their quick isolation from the outside world besides trading and getting back to nature or whatever is by design from the founders.

Arroyo doesn’t seem to forbid the study of modern science, medicine, engineering, etc. outright since the Chosen One can specialize in those things and also somehow know how to drive a car, but by and large the villagers are ignorant of these things, treating objects like the GECK as magic.

A religion pulled out of their asses, a worship of their original founder, a purposeful isolationism... guys, I think Arroyo is a cult.

Maybe not a malicious one, and I don’t think the writers intended it to be one, but it’s motivations for being founded are suspect. It rubs me the wrong way how it’s a kind of cultural appropriation of indigenous Americans that’s not even based off of any specific culture, as if the founders were like “we need to connect with nature again, but how do we do that? Hmm... I guess the Indians were one with nature, we should act like them!” So they just slapped together some stereotypical imagery and myths and called it a day.

I highly doubt the writers were doing some kind of biting satire about how a lot of Americans like to idealize indigenous iconography without really contending with the realities of colonization, and that Arroyo was supposed to be the logical extreme of that. Besides having the option to poke fun at their beliefs sometimes, none of these themes are confronted.

What we’re left with is that in-universe, there is a most likely unintentional implication that the founders of Arroyo manipulated those born into the village to believe in a fake religion built on a shaky foundation out of bits and pieces of cultures that are not theirs purely out of spite for the outside world, and out-of-universe, Arroyo is an example of a group of white dudes trying to write a quirky group that’s “other” from what most gamers are familiar with.

We don’t know much about what became of Arroyo after they reunited with the remaining Vault 13 dwellers besides that they grew very prosperous. Hopefully someday they abandoned all that baggage.

If any of the Fallout 2 writers have ever acknowledged these issues, I don’t know about it, so feel free to tell me about it.

Oh, well. Good thing the Fallout writers never, EVER did anything like that again but even worse, RIGHT? RIGHT??? THAT WOULD BE SILLY. THEY WOULDN’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE AGAIN OVER TEN YEARS LATER, WOULD THEY????

[bananasmores]

Talking about what I’ve learned recently about art block/motivation in a way that I hope is helpful 

I have art block more often than I don’t have it, I think I just always have it and sometimes I can push art through the cracks of it very rarely, but it doesn’t seem to go away at all; making art has always been uncomfortable for me (personally) I’ve always been really frustrated because the only thing I’ve been passionate about is art, but if you don’t have any strong interests besides art and a vague idea of ‘getting good enough’ then you dont have things to draw and things come out stale and lifeless. honestly the best art advice that i didnt understand well enough when i heard it the first time, and only really GOT when i fell ass-backwards into figuring it out, was “find interests/hobbies that arent related to art”. 

if you let obsession with improvement and nothing else get ahold of you, it’s going to get out of control fast. ‘why am i not better yet when all i do is think about this and try to paint ladders on the wall to get out of this hole’. it gets really embarrassing to yourself.  It’s really really hard if you have this mentality but you have to draw for yourself, learn to be self indulgent. I’ve read literally those words a hundred times and didnt fully absorb them in a way i could act on, so i dont know that typing them here for other people having the same problem is helpful.  actual actionable advice that has helped me with this specific problem: -chase passing interests in anything, just enjoy things. put the idea of art out of your brain, itll come back. (personally the way that worked for me is “im very passionate about this subject and i want to tell people about it AND communicate how it makes me feel”)

-have secret hobbies to let yourself be bad at. pick up a new creative thing and make stuff that way without focusing on improvement, just enjoy whatever comes out of playing around. make some kind of pseudonym/secret blog/whatever so you can collect what you make. even if youre not trying to improve, its going to happen and being so new to something that youre constantly improving a ton is exciting and this will help you feel something about creating things without expectations. its especially fun if the specific avenue you go with has a reputation for being “cringe” or “childish”. have fun, cringe is fun.

  -if you post art and then keep checking back to see if people like it: holy shit do not post something when you’ve just finished it and you’re proud of it; make the art and then drop it in the queue for a few days away, make the time longer if youre antsy about it. try really hard to not tie your feelings to other peoples reactions to your art.

-i dont know how universal this is, maybe it’s just me being avoidant, but i make art and personal accounts separate, and turn off notifications for art accounts. if its important and for professional stuff, have a contact page. if its a tumblr sideblog where i doodle horses, i turn the askbox off. i don’t remember who said it but “i drew this for myself but you can look at it too if you want” has stuck with me and has been one of the most helpful things about art ive heard.

i think because of the entire Capitalism Thing, if you do art for a job, there’s a feeling that if it’s real work it needs to be miserable and hard or else you’re goofing off. but if you burn yourself out for years because you think art as a job needs to be torturous or it’s rude to people working other jobs then.obviously thats not sustainable. take care of yourself and your mental health. ive worked a lot of (non art, physical industrial) jobs and while i’m glad to do art now, please remember you’re a person before you’re your job title. (especially right now)  i hope this is understandable, ive been dealing with this issue (+avpd) for years and am finally starting to get ahold of it and i want to shorten this struggle for anyone else that has it if at all possible.

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (1)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

Inspired by Unforeseen Mayhem by Aerugonian 

Here is their tumblr (all their work is so good)

(NEXT)

...

Kakashi thinks he might have died. He remembers the flash of steel and Obito’s face or maybe it had been Madara. His memory of the events leading up to the attack are hazy after receiving one too many hits to the head. What he does remember is the slowly spinning, hypnotic red of a Sharingan, and the quick build-up then explosion of chakra.

Then there was excruciating pain in his left eye and…darkness…

…

Kakashi opens his remaining, usable eye to gaze up at tall angled structures that stretch into a grey overcast sky. He can’t feel the left side of his face, his limbs are numb and unresponsive, and there is the damp of blood soaking through his hair. The bone-deep ache of chakra exhaustion is so all-encompassing that he can barely lift his hand let alone stop the bleeding. Around him, there are several people yelling in shock and surprise. Civilians he vaguely notes as he clings to consciousness. There is no sign of Madera, Obito or any of Kakashi’s allies for that matter.

When his vision dims for a second time he thinks that this, this would be his last breath. Alone, severely injured, in a foreign location and with only civilians as help? It was a death sentence.

He is wrong in the end.

…

Kakashi wakes up in a strange hospital bed surrounded by the strangest people he has ever seen. He also wakes up covered in bandages, his more serious injures either treated or in various stages of recovery.

The air is dry with a distinct lack of chakra. It is something he would usually only see in a prison cell made to contain dangerous shinobi in which chakra draining fuinjutsu arrays were applied to the walls and floor. There are no fuinjutsu arrays here. This is not a prison cell. For one, there is a large window. Secondly, there is a constant stream of doctors, nurses and other patients moving in, out and around the building. Finally, the door to the room is not locked. It doesn’t even have a lock.

After memorising the comings and goings of the people working in the strange hospital, he takes some time to scout. Even while injured and drained of chakra, he has enough skill and experience to avoid the workers and other sickly people he shares his room with.

 The world outside his window is one of cement, concrete and brick, with tall imposing structures covered in reflective glass standing higher than any building he has seen before. The closest point of comparison he has are the buildings in the Hidden-Rain and Stone villages but even those are a loose approximation. The hospital is both similar to Konoha’s main hospital, abet a lot bigger and full of strange equipment and technology. The people, despite their lack of chakra, display odd and inconstant abilities, techniques and physical deformities. One of the doctors has a lizard tail and he catches a glimpse of a man with a wooden block for a head. He sees a woman heal a cut with a simple hand wave. Either he is in an unusually elaborate and detailed genjutsu or he is very far away from Kohoha.

Everything is so odd and strange that he is well and truly stumped, leaving him with nothing else to do but quickly return to his hospital room. At least the weird chakra-less people are non-hostiles and willing to provide much needed medical attention. Though he is, as of yet, uncertain about the purpose or motive behind said medical attention seeing as he was a complete unknown to them.

After some consideration, Kakashi decides to wait. He has no idea how he ended up in the place aside from a loose theory that involved his still healing Kamui Sharingan. Additionally, there was no use trying to get back home with stab wounds, his leg broken, his ribs cracked, his shoulder muscles torn and his chakra levels so pathetically low that he’d probably kill himself if he tried.

He takes solace in the fact that his presence, while probably missed to some extent- he likes to think so anyway- wouldn’t impact the outcome of any major conflict. With Naruto’s stubbornness and Sakura’s tenacity, home would be waiting for him, even if he took a bit of time getting there.

…

After a week of information gathering -ie pretending to be unconscious and listening to conversations- Kakashi concludes that the people operating the hospital are relatively harmless. They seem to be under the mistaken impression that Kakashi is a citizen of their village and thus automatically entitled to medical attention. This is despite his lack of identification or history with the place. Such a thing would never happen in Konoha as even civilians were carefully monitored and tracked. Without identification or relatives/friends to vouch for them, a civilian would more likely be thrown out of the village than given what was surely resource-consuming medical treatment. It is lucky for him that there are apparently so many civilians in this village that their shinobi-equivalent forces couldn’t properly keep track of them all. Another point in favour of it not being any sort of hidden-village or any place he was familiar with.

 “Oh, thank goodness!” Says the greying, middle-aged man in a white coat as he approaches Kakashi's bed, “You’re finally awake. How do you feel.”

“Ah…a bit tired,” Kakashi plasters on a confused smile, raising his undamaged hand to rub the back of his head, hunching his shoulders for good measure. The perfect image of a disoriented patient.

 “What happened? Where am I?”

There was only so much he could achieve be pretending to be unconscious and snooping around at night. It was time to get a real feel for residents of this strange place and figure out his next move. This meant integrating into the local culture.  

“No need to worry. You’re in Hosu General Hospital and you’re well on your way to recovery,” A nod and the doctor moves forward to stand beside his bed, “A little drowsiness is a normal side effect of the pain medication we have you on. Now, if I may have your name?”

“Kakashi.” If they hadn’t recognised the Sharingan when they had bandaged it up, then they most likely wouldn’t recognise his name either.

“Well, Kakashi,” The man says with no hint of acknowledgement, “My name is Wada Yasutoki and I’m here to make sure you are recovering properly. Can you tell me if you are feeling any discomfort or pain at the moment?”

“Hmmm…my arm and leg?”

“Would you be able to rate it on a scale of 1 to 10?”

Kakashi thinks for a second and shrugs, “3.” Honestly, he only notices the pain when he’s consciously paying attention.

Another nod and Doctor Wada fusses about, examining the bandages around his shoulder and then his leg, “Well, they seem to be healing as well as any broken limb, maybe even a bit faster. And the stab wound near your chest is almost completely gone.” A thoughtful hum follows the statement. “If not for your left eye I would say you had a healing or regeneration quirk…hmmm…maybe a passive healing factor linked to your quirk…?” Wada looks to him, waiting for confirmation and Kakashi shrugs. From his nightly snooping he knows that ‘quirk’ is the term for the bloodline ability things the people here had.

The Doctor doesn’t press the matter instead asking, “Is there any discomfort in the left side of your face?”

“No.” Kakashi doesn’t want the people here touching his eye any more than necessary. The fact that it is draining charka at its usual sluggish rate was a sign that it was, at least, somewhat functional and that’s good enough for him. He guesses he should be thankful for landing in a place with medicine advanced enough to save it.

“You had us concerned when you didn’t wake after we saw to all your injuries,” The Doctor continues, “Your left eye took quite a bit of damage and we were worried that there might have been some sort of brain injury. If you feel dizzy, lightheaded or confused please, do not hesitate to call a nurse.”

The man shakes his head and sighs, “Now, I understand if you want a bit of space after going through such a traumatic event but if you could provide any details concerning the predicament that ended with you so badly injured it would be a great help to the investigation.”

Kakashi gives a faked confused hum and smiles apologetically, “Sorry Doctor Wada. I'm having trouble remembering much of anything really.”

“Nothing? No details about the potential assailant at all. What they look like? Their quirk?”

“No. Where is Hosu General Hospital by the way?”

His bland expression obviously causes his doctor some concern as he is subjected to a penlight being shone in his uncovered eye.

 “It is located in Hosu City, a ward of Tokyo. Where is the last place you remember being?”

The names mean nothing to him.  Kakashi schools his features into one of complete confusion, “I don’t remember.” 

It’s not even a lie this time. 

After the admission,  Doctor Wada only grows more concerned and Kakashi is subjected to many reassurances that it is completely normal to forget a few things after a brain injury and that he shouldn’t worry himself too much. The level of comforting and reassuring is a bit much if he is being honest. Never before has he longed for the cold frowns of  Konoha’s medic-nin.

“I’ll have to schedule you in for an MRI. If you’re having trouble recalling basic facts alongside your long-term memories, then there might a serious problem.” The older man finally concludes, having run through an extensive list of questions regarding Kakashi’s history all of which he answers with vague half-truths.  Where did he grow up? Somewhere with a lot of trees. Did he have any close relatives? He thinks they might have died when he was little. What does he do for a living? Commission work. Did he have any colleagues? He doesn’t know where they are. So on and so forth.

“It’s a shame your ID and phone were missing when they found you. Stolen by the bastard who put you in this situation no doubt,” the Doctor sighs again, “We might have been able to track down your records. Oh well, we’ll do our best with what we have.”

Kakashi doesn’t speak, pretending to be deep in thought. Mentally, he pats himself on the back for an infiltration gone surprisingly well considering his lack of preparation and the flakiness of the ‘sorry I don’t remember my backstory’ excuse.

“I don’t suppose you remember anything about your quirk,” the doctor asks, “Ocular quirks can have odd effects on brain activity and ability to process information. It might give us a place to start.”

From what he had seen, ‘quirks’ tended to have a specific function but he is still trying to figure out their limits. All he knew for sure was that none of them used chakra.

“It’s called the Sharingan.” He offers to see what the doctor does with the information, “I don’t remember much else about it.”

“Hmmm, ‘copy wheel eye’…it’s a descriptive name at least. Maybe a quirk that deals with memorisation or information recall. I will see if I can find it on the Quirk Registry. Hopefully, that will be enough. ”

Kakashi nods loosely in agreement, filing away the fact that there was a Quirk Registry for later contemplation. 

(NEXT)

[wynniewright]

In Harm’s Way (M)

→ This story is a part of the @bangtanshadowfamily “The Creatures of Moonlight Manor” Halloween collab!

→ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

→ Word Count: 4.8k

→ Genre: grim reaper au, halloween au, smut, lots of fluff, bit angsty

→ Summary: After fighting with her grim reaper boyfriend, Y/N decides to throw herself into a dangerous situations to get him to stop ignoring her.

→ Trigger Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide (it’s not dark, think of when bella tried to get edward to save her so she kept doing stupid shit - it’s that), one time mention of a past near-death experience (not detailed, it’s just vaguely mentioned in the fluffy part), reader attempts suicide via toaster bath (with the intention of being saved by her supernatural, soul-reaping boyfriend). Please don’t read if these make you uncomfortable! 

→ Warnings: dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral (female), bit of impregnation kink, tae just wants to be a dad, reader makes stupid decisions, cum play, possible impregnation?, sex with pants on, fingering, lots of fluff and all that good stuff

→ A/N: Hello hello! Finally found the time to squeeze in this story in the middle of my full-time school and part-time work schedule. Sorry it took so long for another fic to post but here I am! I want to thank my amazing bangtan hq sprinting crew who helped motivate me to finish this @purpletigertaetae @nightowls388 @shadowsremedy @wwilloww. This story was supposed to be a lot darker and a whole lot more filthy than it turned out. Wasn’t supposed to be fluffy at all and somehow it turned real quick so I hope you enjoy. I’d also like to state that I’m not promoting suicide or slightly toxic relationships, this is a fictional story and the reader hasn’t died, isn’t dead, and won’t die, so the suicidal scene in this is not meant to be disturbing. If you’re not comfortable reading, please don’t. Alright, I love you all.~ Hope you enjoy.

The biggest struggle of dating Taehyung was that no guide, tutorial, or advice blog post could’ve prepared you for what it was going to be like to be in a relationship with him. I almost wished there were some sort of ‘how to’ on dating a grim reaper because no matter how much dating experience I had, being with him was like being in my first relationship again.

It was a little unconventional, sure. Date nights were always iffy since, apparently, reapers don’t need sleep and therefore are technically scheduled around the clock. Boy, there was nothing like us setting up a nice, stay-at-home dinner date when he’d suddenly kiss my cheek and disappear into thin air, only to come back a few minutes later and announce he’d taken another soul. I’ll be honest, it was a slight mood killer. 

But aside from his job description, Tae was a kind person. He didn’t seem to know exactly how to deal with human emotions, as his kind were strictly prohibited from having human-reaper relations and never had the opportunity to learn from us. But just because he didn’t know what emotions were, doesn’t mean he didn’t feel them. He was a sensitive guy, too.

I remembered the first time he cried. We were watching Marley & Me and I cried at the end like any other sane human being. Tae didn’t cry at all, in fact, knowing I was sad made him sad enough to tear up, even more so when he couldn’t get me to stop. That memory was one of my favorites purely because it was too wholesome to forget: a grim reaper crying because a girl was sad that a dog died in a movie. 

But like every other person in the world, not ever emotion was positive. 

Being much older than I, Taehyung didn’t really have moments where he got angry to the point of exploding in a fit. There wasn’t a situation where he ever passed that threshold, at least, not in front of me. The feelings Tae couldn’t quite grasp were hurt and jealousy. 

From his own words, he never loved anyone before me, and something I knew better than anyone was that jealousy and love were very closely intertwined. 

The first year we dated, I tried explaining to him what jealousy was, that even I felt it too in an attempt to teach him that he didn’t need to act on it. It was safe to say that it didn’t really work.

Over four and a half into our relationship together and Taehyung still chose to disappear whenever we got into a small petty argument that involved him taking something out of context and then not wanting to talk about it like the century old being that he was. 

In our most recent example, my best friend, Sam, called and told me that she was expecting her first baby. We cried a little and then spent the rest of the conversation talking about whose eyes they would have or which parent they would most resemble. Tae and I never talked about kids nor a future together, we just lived in every moment the two of us were given, so indulging on a new topic with Sam gave me the image of tiny Tae-Taes waddling across the wooden floor, matching their father’s bright, boxy grin as they giggled. 

I made one comment - one! I told her how I’d love to have mini-Taehyungs running about the place and that I was so excited to meet her little Sam. Somehow, he took that and ran with it.

He didn’t bother letting me speak, pulling the usual disappearing act he always resorted to when he was upset and didn’t want to properly face his feelings in the moment. I thought it would pass like all the rest, but something changed. 

Hours passed and he never came to check in on me. Days flew by and I hadn’t heard from him. I wanted for him to come by, swallowing my pride and shouting at the empty air in hopes he was listening, to no avail. Nothing worked. 

After two weeks of being ignored and left without so much as a trace, I decided to do what any normal girl would do to seek out her boyfriend’s attention.

I needed to kill myself. 

I didn’t want to die, by any means. Tae knew how close I’d come to death a few too many times, but if I was going to get his attention back on me, I needed to attempt something stupid. Not only did it have to be stupid, it also had to be believable. I needed to convince him that I was going to die and hope he’d rescue me just in time.

I knew it wasn’t a good plan to start off with but it was the only thing I could come up with to get him to focus on me. The only reason I even thought of such a stupid idea was because I knew he’d never let me actually die. He saved me once and I was willing to bet he’d save me again and this time my life was actually on the line.

All that being said, I’ll regurgitate that it wasn’t the brightest idea I’d ever had. 

What if he’d decided to have someone else cover me? What if the one time he decided he didn’t want to see me again, he passed the job on to someone else and they just let it go?

I shivered with that thought fresh in my mind. To say I was scared was a gross understatement, the thought of all the ways this could go bad were enough to paralyze me with fear. There was only one reason I stood there in our master bathroom with a bath full of water and a toaster in my hands, already plugged in and ready for me to drop it in.

If I wanted him to talk to me, I had to force him to keep me out of harm’s way.

Nervousness nagged at the back of my mind, heart beating a million miles a minute against my ribcage, forcing me to take a deep inhale of fresh air, even if it was only to calm my nerves for a few seconds. A few seconds was enough to release my grip and pray that Tae would be there to rescue me.

With a last shake of my head, I thought up a quick “I love you” to the universe as if the universe would deliver my message to my friends and family if things didn’t go as planned. And with that, I dropped the small appliance.

The moment it slipped from my fingers, I clenched my eyes tight and waited for the shock to ripple through my body in powerful waves, but nothing came. In fact, time itself seemed to slow down as a large clanging against the wall forced my eyes open, right as a tall, dark figure wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me out of the tub to press me against the wall adjacent. 

Taehyung stood there, fuming in anger as his gaze bored into mine, hands gripping tightly to me and keeping me pressed against the wall, though I’m not sure if he was holding onto me to keep me steady or if he was preparing to murder me where I stood. To be fair, if it wasn’t for his hold on me, I would’ve slipped against the tile floor that puddled with the water leaking from the bottom half of my jeans. I added a mental note to myself that next time I do something like that again, I should prepare for it to actually work and actually wear a pair of shorts or something. But another problem for another time.

The sheer force in which Taehyung’s eyes glared into mine would normally have made me cower. But knowing I had to do something that stupid just to get him to talk to me again filled me with a burning anger that I didn’t know I had within me. With that newfound anger, I pushed back against his chest, my hands rebounding off his chest without moving him in the slightest. He dropped his hold on me and I stepped forward, my foot catching a slippery tile and making me bang my back against the wall roughly. A sharp pain shot through my back and Tae softened for a  moment, reaching out again to steady me before I finally exploded.

“No. Don’t touch me! I don’t even know where to begin right now!” I defiantly shoved his hands away from my body and crossed my arms over my chest once I balanced out a bit. 

“You? You?! The fuck did I do?” He argued, waving his hands in the air as if his gestures were defence enough for his stupid inhuman reactions.

“Oh, so you’re going to play stupid now, is that it? Really?” I barked, taking a step forward and poking a finger right against his tight chest. “I don’t know. How about the fact that you just walked out on me and never came back? What happened to having a normal fucking conversation like an adult?” He received a poke to his clothed peck with every word to emphasize what he’d done wrong.

Annoyed with me prodding at him in frustration, he grabbed my wrist at my last poke, holding my arm away from him and resumed the glaring. “You’re making this about me now? Are you going to completely ignore the fact that you almost just fried yourself? What the fuck were you thinking?!” He raised his voice, something he didn’t do often, and I naturally shied away from the loudness of his voice to keep my ears from ringing.

“Well I wouldn't have needed to do that had you come back to talk! Of course I tried to get your attention. I love you, you fucking moron,” I grunted, voice cracking at the end as tears instantly sprang to my eyes. Willing them away, I stood my ground and met Tae’s heated gaze with an unwavering one of my own. I wasn’t the one in the wrong. 

“We did talk. Yeah I left, but I did that after I said things weren’t going to work out between us.”

He wasn’t wrong. He did technically say that but it was spoken like a passive statement made in anger, a second before he disappeared to wherever the fuck he went to whenever he was upset with me. So I was just supposed to accept that was it after four and a half years and no idea what broke the two of us. Fuck that, he meant too much to me.

“I don’t understand why you keep saying that. I made one comment - one! - about kids to Sam and now you’re dead-set on not being with me? Why are you so angry about that?” My words came out in a pained whisper as I pleaded with him. I just wanted a response back, to know what was hurting him so I could try and fix it. 

His eyes shifted from mine repetitively, searching my face for something before he mumbled out, “Because I can’t give that to you.”

I froze, all but my heart coming to a halt as I processed his words. He couldn’t give that to me… Kids?

I couldn’t help the frown that framed my lips as his face morphed into one of discomfort, grimacing at himself. A pang of guilt smacked me right in the chest as his face fell. All of it began to make sense and I wasn’t sure if I made things better or worse by doing what I did.

“Tae…” I started, mouth agape as I tried to form some sort of response but I couldn’t think of one at that moment.

He straightened himself out and all visible evidence of his emotional expression was wiped clean off his features. “I can’t give you kids,” he repeated clearly, seemingly more for himself than for me.

Pride swelled up in me and I reached out to wrap my arms around his midsection to hug him close.

“Baby,” I cooed, a fresh wave of tears threatening to soak into his soft cotton shirt as I smothered my face against him, taking in his scent and his warmth. He returned the embrace, tightly hugging me back with his nose buried atop my head.

“You’re not mad at me,” he mumbled thoughtfully.

I shook my head against him, squeezing him that much tighter to reassure him. “I figured it wasn’t biologically possible, but there are plenty of ways for couples to have kids when they otherwise can’t themselves.”

I imagined his brows furrowing as he turned his head, resting the side of his plump cheek on top of my hair. “I don’t understand.”

Pulling back, I tilted my head to look him in the eyes and smiled supportively. Our kids don’t have to look like either of us to be ‘little Taehyungs’ or little ‘Y/Ns’.” I leaned back further and pressed my chin against the center of his chest, humming as he readjusted his embrace around me. “I’ll see you in the way they smile or laugh, all those little idiosyncrasies they pick up from you that make them you kids.”

Tae blinked with a blank expression on his face, staring me down without so much as a response to follow up. The longer he went without responding, the stronger my heart pounded in my chest. 

We never had any serious talks like that before because everything about our relationship was too complicated. Marriage and families weren’t even on our mind, at least not on mine until Sam was getting her own, and suddenly I realized how I’d love to have a family with Taehyung, no matter how unconventional. But there’s a chance that could’ve just been me. Maybe it was too early to be talking about that so Tae didn’t really have an opinion since he couldn’t have kids. Maybe he was trying not to hurt my feelings? God, I broke him.

I cleared my throat and opening my mouth to talk when he cut me off. “So you’re not mad that I…. you’re okay with it?”

“Of course I’m okay with it. Sure, I’m a teenie but sad they probably won’t have your boxy grin or your cute little nose freckle, but our kids would be cute regardless.” The anxiety I had towards his response was no longer a thought in my mind as I suddenly grinned, punctuating my statement with a kiss on his chin, which he playfully returned. But he didn’t stop there. Strong hands gripped the back of my thighs and urged me to jump, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist as he pushed us up against the wall once more, chaste kisses littered across the length of my face. Each peck tickled, giggles pouring past my lips as I scrunched my nose up and took all the comfort he gave. Lips trailed down my neck before he buried his face in the crook of my collarbone, happily sighing against ym skin with a happy hum.

The smile on my lips pinched at my cheeks, making my face ache with the strength of my happiness alone. I never knew he’d have such a human response to something like kids. It made my heart flutter to know that’s where his heart and mind were, that he wasn’t actually mad at me.

With determination, he pushed us off of the bathroom wall and opened the door to our shared bedroom, carrying me to the bed where he motioned to put me down.

“Babe, my pants are still wet,” I reminded him, to which he nodded and set me down a foot or so away to stand in front of him.

“Well, we’re going to solve that,” he quipped, reaching down between us to fumble with the button and zipper on my jeans while I grinned up at him. It wasn’t what I had in mind when planning this out but I sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.

He had a few issues with the clasping mechanics of my pants, a regular issue he was faced with, and grunted in irritation. I giggled, brushing back the long strands of hair behind his ear before a loud ripping sound pulled my attention.

“Baby! These are my favorite jeans!” I screeched at Taehyung, lips pouting as I admired the fresh rip down the center of the jeans that paralleled the zipper. You know, the zipper he could’ve just undone.

Lips pressed to my forehead as a chuckle rippled through his chest. “Not anymore, they’re not.” He meant it to tease but I still glared at him, not finding it in me to laugh at the expense of my favorite pair of jeans. “Sorry, I’ll buy you new ones,” he offered in a light-hearted tone, making me roll my eyes and return the kiss to his chin.

Lean fingers dipped into the waistband of my jeans, tugging them down my hips until they passed the curve of my ass. But the material from the thigh down was still sopping wet and made it even more entertaining to watch him struggle to slide the denim down my legs, coaxing another giggle from me.

“Fuck, why is this so difficult?” Tae let out a soft groan, giving up on his quest of removing the wet article and instead closing the distance between us, lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss.

“What about my pants? Not going to rip them all the way?” I wriggled my eyebrows and laughed when he rolled his eyes back.

“Pants or no pants, I’m still fucking you into the mattress.” His voice dripped with heat, his tone comparing to sex itself, sensual and deep, which made the words shoot straight down to my core.

As promised, he stalked towards me until the back of my knees pressed up against the edge of the bed. He didn’t miss a beat, cupping my face with his large palms and pulling me into a deep kiss that took away what little breath I had after his sexy statement. His tongue skimmed over the seam of my mouth, canines digging into the flesh of my bottom lip as he gave me that final push back onto the bed, lowering me down with a steady hold on my back until I was flush against the mattress with him hovering above me. Mouths lavished over one another, pulling the other into each other as far as our bodies would let us until the lack of oxygen forced me to pull away for a moment.

I wasted no time in pulling the white shirt from his black dress slacks, untucking his usual orderly work clothes so I could dip my hand under the smooth material to feel his bare warmth against my fingers. Each little divot and bulge across his stomach only added to the arousal gathering between my legs, allowing my fingers to explore the clothed spaced with the image of him naked on my mind.

The thought of that alone drove me mad, thighs instinctively rubbing together to relieve some of the pent up pressure. But doing so only reminded me of the pants I still had clinging to the lower part of my legs, the tight and uncomfortable sticky feeling causing a slight bubble of irritation to well up within me.

“Bab-” I started, cut off by Tae’s lips roughly soothing over mine with a kiss deeper than the one before it. It was his mission to explore my mouth, delving deep inside to slide his tongue along mine in a dance for passion, not power. There was no struggle in the kiss, which was different - a good different that made my heart beat just a little bit harder for him.

“Sh, ignore the pants,” Taehyung whispered against my lips and I had to force down the eyeroll that almost surfaced at such a dismissive response.

As I was about to protest further, Tae parted from the kiss and pushed himself from the bed, kneeling down on the floor and pushing my legs up until they tucked up to my chest to expose my clothed core for his eyes to feast on. The tip of his tongue swiped across his lips before he dove down, pushing my panties out of the way to dip a finger shallowly into my sopping heat. I moaned softly, holding onto my ruined jeans with one hand and sneaking the other around to his head, intertwining my fingers in his soft, chestnut locks.

Without warning, Tae pushed his finger in to the knuckle and lowered his head to hungrily lap at my clip over my already soaked underwear, ripping a moan forcefully from my throat. He moaned in return, any noise that left my mouth only adding to his determination to work me up and get me as wet as inhumanly possible. He sped up his pace, curling the tip of his finger to stroke the pad of his fingertip along the rough patch at the top, the spot that made my mind go blank and left me a mumbling mess for him to please. He always knew how to hit the right place, each and every time together was spent as a new learning experience for him to map out and worship my body as I did his.

A few pumps later, Tae placed a sloppy, wet kiss along the inside of my thigh before adding a finger to the one already thrusting into my cunt at a moderate pace. The stretch burned despite how slender his fingers were, always filling me up nicely. Brushing against a particular spot deep within me, I was left gasping for air, tugging the strands at the top of his head as I attempted to buck my hips against his hand to meet each of his thrusts, my sopping pussy tembling around his fingers.

“Fuck, baby. You always take me so fucking well,” he praised, leaving a few stray kisses along my thigh to accompany the faster pace he’d set, working his fingers into me as if he could do it all fucking night long.

“Mmh, Tae,” I groaned, abandoning the grip on my legs to ground myself against the duvet underneath.

“What, baby? What do you want?” Rougher kisses were pressed into the length of my thigh and along my wet mound, tongue practically dancing everywhere but my clit to tease me.

“Tae-Tae, I want you in me. Please.”

Despite the urgency in my request, Tae peeked around my legs with a softened look, eyes kind as his body smile outshines the gloss of arousal painting his lips and chin.

“Yeah? Where do you want me, baby? Here?” He asked with a slide of his fingers across my g-spot, causing my thighs to quake as I fought off the softest hint of an orgasm. I nodded and begged him for his cock while he rubbed the remainder of my slick from his face and onto his sleeve, towering over me once again as he climbed up the bed once again, having stripped himself of his clothes. The heat returned to his gaze as he devoured my body with his eyes, not needed for me to be naked in order to let his imagination run wild. 

Leaving a soft kiss against my lips, he pushed back to sit on his knees and lifted my legs up until my feet rested against the top of his shoulder. The position we were in gave him the perfect view of my ruined panties, his eyes lit up with a heat unlike anything I’d ever seen from him before as he traced the material with his fingertip. 

“You want me to fuck a baby into you?” He asked, fighting the blush that creeped up his neck and into his ears as he stayed locked onto my clothed pussy. 

His words made me giddy, the thought of him fucking me and getting me pregnant with his child adding fuel to our very passionate fire. “Please, I want your baby, Tae,” I whined. He dragged his cockhead against my clothed core, earning a grunt from us both. With a push of my panties to the side and a gentle rock of his hips against my own, the entirety of his cock slid into me, walls protested the stretch his thick girth gave despite the prep, drawing a synchronized moan from us. 

“Oh fuck, babe,” I groaned, fisting the sheets beneath me as his grip aropund my legs tightened. He stilled when the last inch of his cock sank into me, the tremble in his breath telling me he felt the tightness in this position too. Without warning, he dragged his hips back, exposing everything but the tip of his cock before he quickly thrusted back in. 

He continued his languid pace while pressing open kisses to my foot just beneath the hem of the jeans, nails raking against the flesh of my thigh before his eyes flickered down to me. 

I gasped when he adjusted the angle of his hips and targeted my g-spot without miss, setting a punishing pace with his hips as he suddenly drove his cock into me roughly. I moaned out, teeth capturing my bottom lip to contain the sounds his actions were tearing from my throat. 

With a grunt, Tae switched our positions, lowering himself down until his shoulders nestled in the hollow of my knees, face ducking down to pull my lips into a kiss as he resumed his powerful thrusts into my aching pussy.

The new position had every part of my body humming in happiness, the surface of my flesh tingling with each thrust he gave until my eyes shut. Our lips danced together, tongues stealing tastes of one another as the little sounds we made were muted by the other. I fisted a hand in his sweaty hair, using the brunette strands to ground me against his assault against my hips. I tried to meet his thrusts, but the awkward position left me lying there, unable to move, as I took his cock as he gave it. 

I tightened around him, loving the way I felt every ridge of his thick length as it disappeared from my cunt and pushed back inside to hit me in all the right places. After so many thrusts against that spot deep within me, a pressure built up in my lower stomach that burned, growing in size with each pump of his cock until I whined, needing pressure on my clit to push me over that final edge.

Knowing exactly what I wanted, he snuck a hand between us and used the slick on my thighs to wet his thumb before swiping rigorously against my sensitive clit. I mewled in pleasure at the contact, throwing my head back and parting our lips as loud whines and moans leaked from my mouth. It was almost too much, the combination of his hand and his cock throwing me over the edge faster than I could ever get myself off, pushing me over that ledge and into my orgasm. 

I mumbled incoherently as my spasming cunt only drove Taehyung to ride out into his own orgasm, continuing his brutal pace until his cock twitched and stilled inside me, filling me to the brim with his seed.

We stayed that way for a few minutes, taking the time to catch our breaths and return to reality. My body protested him pulling his limp cock from my oversensitive hole, making me grimace. When he pulled back and released my legs from his grip, I groaned at the stiffness in my legs from being in that position for a while, but completely forgot about that as goosebumps fluttered over my skin and brought my attention back down to the soaked jeans I still had on my body. 

Taehyung noticed my shivering and gave a small laugh, deciding to help me out and finally rip each of the legs until the material wasn’t too tight to remove. Sticking to the stripping, I took off my top and unclasped my bra, flinging both across the room to deal with later as Tae stood at the edge of our bed, between my legs. His eyes locked onto the cum dripping from my pussy and he couldn’t contain a grin as he reached forward and swiped a drop up onto his finger to push it back inside of me. 

“Well, at least we’ll know for sure,” Tae murmured to himself. 

“Hm?” I hummed, reaching out with grabby hands for him to come join me on the bed, which he did with a soft smile and a peck to the nose.

“I’ve always assumed we can’t have kids. I guess now we’ll figure out whether I was right or wrong.”