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ms-scarletwings · 1 year ago

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A Messy, Sedulous Necropsy of Zib Membrane

That’s what we call him right? Not Invader Zib? Hell if I know, we’ll let the tags decide.

Whatever he is christened by his author, enemies, or fans, this titular villain of the Zimvoid is such a mind blaster to me. I wish we had more time with him within the comics. I wish he had been a concept explored in the show. I wish he had a movie. I am having fun with a little hyperbole here, but I truly do find him just as interesting and potentially pivotal of an antagonist as Tak was, if not even more.

Both, of course, were so badly underutilized for sake of the series status quo. To that, Zib was a much bigger threat than Tak, and especially to that of the comics’ own. He potentially changes everything, and somehow absolutely nothing by the end. The TV show always had a more overt tone of cruelty and the macabre floating about its themes. These print issues? I don’t dislike them. It’s still recognizably invader Zim, and the more the merrier, content-wise, but longtime fans can feel that there was this change of essence in the transition. More obviously, in the art, but more subtly, there was an audible softening of that bluntly darker, cynical tone the show was made iconic for. To put it very generally, they lean a little more into the whackiness of this world, there’s a lot more dark comedy to be found in what I’ve seen so far rather than in your face darkness, and in the absence of the ost and voice acting the show accustomed us to, the comics leave a lot more room to be read as you wile. To me, they’re goofier and more episodic in spirit.

This all is not a critique or rating on the comics.. It’s purely, I feel, why Zib stuck out to me all the more jarringly in his context. His reveal was a genuine twist that brought forth stakes higher than arguably any other threat in the entire franchise. He represents a plausible while horrifying prophecy of our main characters if only they made worse decisions. The most interesting of all, for every piece of amazing information he fed to us, he bred dozens more questions about everything than he answered, from Irken machinations, to his ambivalent backstory, to the secrets hidden by the sum of his parts.

Though he was left evidently alive at the end of his story, I don’t see any chance for him making a return, so he is memorialized as another defeated one-off the writers have brisked past and left behind for good. Therefore, I’m here today to take what we got and present it on the metaphorical autopsy table. I want to really pull apart why this character alone pulled me back into the TV series, really just flay open the bits I can’t get out of my own head and dig harder until we find something or we run out of threads to tug at. Starting with the one already hanging out of my mouth, but

• B.E.F

“Bad End Friend” is a term I learned the meaning of within the last 12 hours or so of writing this, and I’m exuberant over that discovery. It’s a niche trope i didn’t know ive been a giant fan of since I was a child. Summed up, fictional characters from beloved media, typically, animated child protagonists… given the worst case scenario treatment. Their “bad ending”, whether that means a corruption arc, demonic possession, a lovecraftIan tragedy… usually something that’s anywhere along the lines of a fate worse than death to a full villainous turnover. As a treat. The concept is strongly associated with fanworks and AUs of popular media, but just as often this is something that becomes explored in the source material as well. A couple great examples I know would probably be Ice Prince Finn from Adventure Time or what happens in Undertale when you decide you want to run the most depraved playthrough possible. From a more mature story, “Evil” Morty is another validly arguable sample.

Besides a bit of a fondness I got going for certain dark or spooky themes in general, what I REALLY love about canonical BEFs the most is their utility as characterization tools. They’re the “having your cake and eating it too” option! The perfect way for an author to explore certain things about any character without actually committing to well… a bad ending.

Almost always, they are necessarily hypothetical or reversible. If they’re not reversible, they go often hand-in-hand with a little universe tampering to make happen. Sometimes, this means the story goes the way of time travel and branching off butterfly effects. Sometimes it means confirming multiverse theory, which can be the same thing depending on your semantical position.

And Zib crossed off the BEF qualifications by far and away. His implications are extremely dark given any pause think about them, and he’s a living, disturbing tragedy in aftermath. If you want to view a rigamarole about that aspect of his characterization as he appeared in the comics, someone else long beat me to that and I’m enthusiastically recommending a peek at their own work. I’m thrilled to do so and build a little upon that with those extended what-if-wonders.

• Lessons From a Lost Episode

Elephant in the room I haven’t seen someone ask yet, uh..

By show rules, isn’t Zib supposed to be a clear case of the writers committing the sin of retcon? By show I’m including the unaired scripts, including “10 Minutes to Doom”. In that one we had what looked like the potential setup for a Zib case, and it was deconstructed across the whole episode.

In short recap, Dib learned the hard and reckless way about the true nature of what Irken PAKs actually are. This is not an inventory bag, it is not “gear”. It’s the actual Irken entity- at least, the primary component.

Detaching it from the organic shell essentially caused a temporary split into two instances of Zim, desperately trying to connect back together under threat of obliteration.

Like let me be very clear about this,

The PAK is an autonomous instance of Zim’s consciousness, and it’s the main one. We’ve seen it act to save his life when his body has been out cold or flatlined, and he doesn’t appear the least bit disoriented or confused once “he” wakes and jumps back into the action. There’s no known separate computer assistant AI or security autopilot in there. That code, that program, IS Zim. As Long as the PAK is active, he is capable of staying fully conscious and able to react to what’s happening around him, and that’s what we’ve been seeing, his own actions.

Zim proved me right when Virooz tried to replace him and detached the PAK. Take note of his phrasing after the chair event™.

“I” activated the protocol. Immediately after Virooz ran off with my shell.

“I” Voluntarily chose to do so.

I don’t remember it playing out like that in “10 Minutes to Doom”.

Attaching to a new host wasn’t the first reflex. Dib was not the least bit aware that that he has literally holding the actual Zim captive in sense, and the latter was fighting like a cornered animal to escape him. Failing that, alongside the distance between him and his original body growing fast, he made a last desperate gambit, and he willingly connected himself into Dib’s body.

I can see why he thought this was better than nothing, no matter how repulsive the notion might have been. If he couldn’t fend Dib off physically, he could incapacitate him in some fashion by trying to overtake his will. Maybe give the shell a better chance to catch up, maybe in the longshot hope of being able to pilot dib in order to become whole with the correct host again. And you can say he succeeded, at least in dominating bodily control away from Dib, but at the cost of his already tenuously held sanity. This could be because of the interference of Dib’s own mind still resisting to fully submit, or malfunctions because of the biological incompatibility; however, the thing that Dib mentally becomes is only the basic idea of what “Zim” is. Instead of remembering it needs to reunite with its shell ASAP, the PAK mistakes Dib’s body for its own and goes through the manic motions of following the Invader mission. And it does this, weirdly enough, with almost no regard for blowing its cover.

When things are set right again, Zim’s later words near the episode ending revealed that he knew that was an unsustainable state.

Such a risk was not just accounted for, he was actually banking on it if that clock had hit zero. If Zim had truly lost, if he was really doomed to meet his end on this nasty rock in the middle of Nowhere, Space, then by every damned circuit in his being, he was going to take down this insolent fool boy and as many other humans possible with him. A dying act of vengeful rage.

• The Exceptional… Exception

Now, wouldn’t all of this be the definitive reason for Zib’s existence to be an aberrant impossibility? Yes, but actually no. Fun thing about multiverses is if something doesn’t work in one setting, you can just tweak a few dials and suddenly you have a world where the impossible becomes possible. But that’s a pretty cheap answer, isn’t it? So, what exactly was that crucial difference?

What happened in Zib’s timeline that went down so, so divergently from the events of 10 Minutes to Doom?

Because the only one who was in any position to explain it for us was Zib himself, and he’s proven to be one of the most unreliable of narrators. It’s as @dana-chan-the-control-brain already spared no effort to demonstrate, when he does tell us something about his past, his story is pocked with contradicting half-truths or outright lies. Ergo it helps to break down each recount of events to pick out the real facts.

Version 1: This is an alternate version of dib who defeated his complementing Zim (logically sensible) and went on to achieve all of the success and respect he sought after in his timeline (absolute bullshit). He kind of gestures and only implies about what has happened to his body while explaining that he came to his current understanding of Irken technology by studying it through Zim’s lab (a partial truth). He lets slip in passing that he has in fact fused with the PAK in order to learn how to alter and reprogram its coding, lessons he has applied to Number 2 in order to have a brainwashed pawn (also apparently true).

Version 2, when cornered and red handed: This is an alternate version of Dib who managed to specifically stop Zim's mission (Again, makes sense) but somehow could not convince the world of his findings or his warnings about the Irken Armada (*VERY eyebrow raising). Frustrated with the people’s lack of cooperation, he decides he has no choice but to physically merge with Zim’s PAK post-mortem (concerning and evidently mostly accurate), dominate the Earth himself, and enslave humans to help him in his efforts (highly troubling and probably true). The construction of his EMP super-weapon is successful, but ultimately led to the creation of the Zimvoid when the device was field tested (self evident, absolutely horrifying).

You know what I noticed was missing from both of these accounts? Exactly how his Zim was defeated. Which honestly could have been some beyond useful wisdom to pass along to the main Dib??? More than anything else? I’m not going to fault our boy for not pressing that matter better under the awing circumstance; however, there’s an implication I’ve been reading between lines.

When Zib mentions “defeating” his own Zim, he’s talking about something different than ours.

When our Dib has always talked about “defeating” Zim, he’s meant incapacitation and capture. Throughout the show he explicitly wants to present Zim before an audience alive and whole. Yeah, he fantasizes about other people torturing or disassembling him for study, but HIS role was supposed to be reaping the fame for an undeniable, ground-breaking discovery. Conspiracies and cryptids are all this kid breathes and lives by! And as long as pop culture has always been fascinated with the paranormal, and he has to know this full well, people keep bringing forward hoax after hoax after scam. I mean there’s a freaking current one or few still going IRL about this exact topic. Dib would want no room left for being dismissed as another one of those con artists.

Nonetheless, I actually doubt this is the reason Zib couldn’t get through to the scientific community. A genuine alien lifeform, even a dead one, could still be confirmed by any basic medical examination. The world thinks Dib is too crazy to listen to, but his father is still Professor Membrane. In "10 Minutes to Doom" OUR Dib got as close as having Membrane literally analyzing a PAK, or at worst, preparing to. “Ultimate Dib” gets his hands on the same thing and pulls a move I’d expect from an HP Lovecraft Protagonist instead.

We’re assuming way too much to what these two Dibs have in common, because this ^^^ is really what made the Zimvoid an outlier in the multiverse. That world didn’t only have a very different, more threatening Zim from the main timeline, it had the Dib who proved even more formidable, cunning, and ruthless, even before the fusion.

He didn’t obtain that PAK ala the “10 minutes to Doom” accident, it’s a personal trophy. This is extra strange remembering that capturing an Irken is realistically more easy than killing one. They’re seriously more tenacious than kudzu and will even fight back in PAK form alone. I’m convinced that whatever sort of final showdown made the Ultimate Dib the victor, there are two optional endings on the table.

Option 1: There was not a body even left intact enough to bring in to research. Maybe Dib’s fault, maybe an accident, maybe even Zim’s own luck running out and his incompetent antics finally swallowed him (and possibly GIR). This theory assumes that the PAK was the only sort of remains to come into Dib’s recovery/possession.

Option 2: Curiosity Killed the cat,

but satisfaction brought it back.

Or, the one I personally headcanon. Dib… all Dibs, I assume, don’t just hate the Irken species. They are mesmerized by them, and all that they represent from his perspective. Firstly, the epic villain he gets to roleplay nemesis to in order to feel his own worth and importance. Secondly, an unknown wonder from beyond the boundaries of the cosmos. He’s not really a ghost buster or a Men In Black agent at heart, but a scientist, like his father. Underneath his contempt for Zim’s plans to destroy the world is a genuine and appropriately childish awe for alien presence, especially for Zim’s technology. His silent, dopey smile when Tak’s ship ended up in his backyard said more than words ever will..

Earlier in the show, a great deal of Dib’s time and effort was spent on trying to infiltrate the lower levels of Zim’s base. Sneaking into the house was hard enough, but the computer security can’t be bypassed like the gnomes. Not even by Zim himself unless he really is all himself. Perhaps you’re starting to sniff where I’m going with this one when I refer back to “Bolognius Maximus”. I’ve another reference that’s a little more on the nose, and a lot more… dark.

Were an expired Irken husk before you, you too might take your victory and cash in then. Still, who knows what sudden impulse may run through the head of a less humble version of yourself, one some could call greedier, obsessive to a fault, a screw or two loose, yet, a hell of a smart cookie. Smart enough to see it for what it actually was, the keys to a whole world of discovery that went so many layers deeper than they could ever imagine. It’s possible the Ultimate Dib already learned beforehand the same hard lessons about the PAKs that our own did, and took that understanding toward not repeating the same mistake this time. What happened to Zim? I think he was murdered in cold blood, body, and entity. “10 Minutes to Doom” showed us a fight between 2 brains clinging to one body, struggling until one overpowered another, but that’s not what this is. Through whatever means of science were available to him, this Dib has probably tried to “disarm” the technology by either erasing Zim’s consciousness out of it altogether, or by forcing the autonomous code into a kind of dormancy. His intentions were to render it back to its basic hardware without losing its precious knowledge and usefulness, something like the brain-filled tank that was wired into Skrang’s head. Zim’s PAK doesn’t cling onto his body like a parasitic teratoma this time; it’s merged in a literal sense with his nervous and circulatory system. As well, he has fooled the device’s ability to detect and reject a foreign host shell, the exact same way he deceived the the base’s security AI. If an Irken biology is what these measures authorize to command them and their secrets, then he had the tools on hand to give them just that- in an atrocity I like to call

the darker harvest.

Within this theory, there is not as much room to wonder exactly what became of Zim’s organic remains.

But where Dib fucked up was, for the second time, in his ignorance to the true nature of what he was even playing with. That was a mistake that even the mighty Elder Brains of Judgementia lost themselves to; How much more vulnerable was the weak, human mind? Though Zim can be devoured, he can never be digested. In that fact was born this aberration against nature, sanity, and humanity alike.

"Have you ever heard of insect politics? Neither have I. Insects… don't have politics. They're very… brutal. No compassion, no compromise. We can't trust the insect. I'd like to become the first… insect politician. Y'see, I'd like to, but… I'm afraid, uh… I'm saying… I'm saying I - I'm an insect who dreamt he was a man and loved it. But now the dream is over… and the insect is awake." - Seth Brundle, The Fly, 1986

By fusing what is half-mad and what is utterly mad, neither being was cured, only assimilated into the birth of a new madness. The madness of the creature that snickers behind the curtain in the Zimvoid. I rightfully fear that lonesome thing, but not I think as much as I pity him.

• Dejavu, or Re:Plagarism

One more thing about the Zimvoid arc I find curious is the way it makes you question more and more just how much of the aberration is actually still Dib, and how much of it is Zim's infection haunting him. He does nothing with all of his intellect, his resources, and his time in the void doing anything but surrounding himself in everything he claims he despises. He decries alien tyranny in one breath while lording over a homemade, cruel dictatorship in another. He calls for eradication of the very race who's technology and physiology he has thoroughly appropriated. He laments feeling unable to protect the Earth from the Armada alone, yet sneers literally through Irken teeth to insult humans as inferior and of no value to him any longer. Our Dib spent the whole damn show longing for the support of other people, but Zib pushes away potential allies in his arrogance. His broken timeline never became a Dibvoid instead because while only half of his mind can't stand Irkens, both of the souls inside him remember that they loathe and look down upon a Dib, deep inside.

The corruption goes as far as even subverting his own creativity. None of Zib's plans are wholly original. His anti-Irken weapon was already a concept blueprinted inside of that PAK before the merge. Our Dib has several times shown a propensity for some DIY ingenuity, sometimes dipping a toe into the supernatural. Zib entirely calls upon, scavenges and regurgitates Irken designs with a few modifications or upgrades. The Dib Virus, I think is his most uninspired creation yet, for it's original form was always something inside of Zim, even if the latter himself was not aware of the fact. Like all else, it is a weapon he has plundered, customized, and turned around on everyone else for his own selfish ends. This brief point I will end on one more reflection. The one kind of help Zim ever allowed at his side were the likes of GIR and his own creations. Unable to connect and cooperate with his peers and own kind, his ego preferred to be around those defective machines he related to- drones to be owned by him and always loyally at his beck and call. A slave to admire him unconditionally is the only companionship he's ever been willing to admit to desiring.

And what was Number 2's purpose again? What role exactly were the arena combatants auditioning for, when you think about it?

#iz #iz comics #zimvoid #dib membrane #iz zib #iz headcanons #invader zim headcanon #zib membrane #iz analysis #invader zim #iz comic spoilers #iz theory #scarlet talks about things #long post #absolute ramblings i mean holy crap #longass post

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go-to-two · 6 months ago

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When I look at Upton's exit outside of Upstead, I feel like it was about HER. She was stuck and ready to start fresh. Sometimes a change of scenery is the answer and can provide hope and goodness. Bottom line, she left everything behind and moved on. That was her exit .

Maybe the fans wanted her to go back to her ex husband, but that was never going to happen. Not if she was to reach her own peace of mind.

I'm sorry, I just don't consider a forced father/daughter relationship that didn't exist before and a completely ambiguous ending to be about her.

Searching for Voight for 90% of the episode did nothing for her story. We saw a montage of the ways he has harmed her, then they wrapped that up by having her absolve him of it all and tell him he was good for her, when we quite literally saw the opposite. We don't know what she's doing, where she's going. There's no such thing as a fresh start with the trauma she has gone through, so we know that'll go with her too. I just really, really fail to see how that episode (or any of the 13 episodes this season) showed her growth or gave any answers about what's next for Hailey.

Also, I know the upstead stuff is divisive but for the record, I didn't want her to just "go back to her ex husband". I wanted some indication that they were given the chance to work on them off camera as the smallest remedy for the ooc writing they had seen since his exit, and the five seasons of development they so carelessly destroyed.

#anon ask

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threwedaway · 10 months ago

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TW: SA, ABUSE

Someone said some victim blamer shit in my reblogs and that's an automatic no, but I needed to share... Because what the hell, man?

I got this reblog and I'm trying to keep my composure. This is probably going to be a rambling mess. I was just trying to make a fun little post about HuskerDust, but here we go!

I crossed out the name, because I don't know how old this person is and I don't know what their experiences are.

This will kind of go back and forth between Angel's situation and general information/experience. I think from what I've seen it won't resonate with everyone, but it is definitely within the realm of possibility and makes sense given his circumstances.

I also use the terms victim and survivor interchangeably as a fair warning.

I know there's been a lot of talk around victim blaming and this is blatant.

I'm aware this is a fictional character. I have, however, worked at multiple non-profits that focus on helping survivors of abuse and SA as well as being a victim myself. So, I am pissed beyond belief.

No one lets themselves be abused. Even in situations where someone resigns themselves to abuse, it is for their survival and safety. It is under duress and it is not someone letting themselves be abused. This person says Angel is doing an awful job saving himself, but in all reality he is attempting to keep himself as safe as he can in the environment he's in.

Husk isn't doing everything right and a relationship with the foundation of it being we both suck and we're both stuck in shitty situations isn't going to be stable, but as I said in my original post, he's telling Angel he's not alone. He's not doing that perfectly, but he's saying even if we can't fix everything I'll be here. He says we're in this together, respects that Angel doesn't want to be saved, and he takes the pressure off. He makes himself a safe place for Angel to vent and makes it clear that he enjoys being around him no matter what.

Trying to force someone can push them towards their abuser and isolate them further or put you and the victim in a lot of danger if you're untrained. Which is what happens in the episode when Charlie comes to the studio. Someone tried to help when he didn't ask for it and it ended badly, which just reaffirms that he cannot accept or ask for help without repercussion.

If you have someone close to you who is in an abusive situation and they don't want to leave for whatever reason, applying too much pressure can be counterproductive. If it is safe to do so (mentally and physically), be there for them. Try and keep the line of communication open so they have a life line if or when they're ready.

Angel is under contract, there has been a pattern of abuse for at least a decade, his self worth is extremely low, there are threats of violence against him and people he cares about and Valentino seemingly provided everything before Charlie and is still providing for his drug habits. That's not even getting into the intricacies of the fact he was trafficked, which makes things more complicated.

Aside from the magic piece of paper, these are real reasons people stay in abusive relationships.

My point is, this is uninformed and victim blaming. The amount of times I've heard from survivors all the reasons they didn't ask for help even though it was awful is too many to count. So many people come out of these situations after years and years and blame themselves for not getting help. It is never the fault of the person being hurt, it is always the fault of the person hurting them.

Angel is trying to save himself and is making steps forward. He's going to the hotel, distancing himself from Valentino and he's also trying to 'break himself' or make himself less appealing to his abuser. While that last one isn't good, he's not doing nothing. He is trying to use the resources he knows to stop the abuse.

Autonomy is very important in situations like this. Of course someone in this situation should ask for help, but if someone isn't ready it's not our place to decide that for them.

This struck a nerve obviously!

No one is a bad victim. We do not judge victims choices to ask for help or not ask for help. We do not imply any survivor of abuse lets it happen somehow.

Keep anything close to victim blaming off my blog. All and all, don't put these words in that order! Ever!

#hazbin hotel #vivzieverse #huskerdust #huskdust #hazbin husk #hazbin angel dust #hazbin #tw sa #tw abuse #angel dust #hazbin valentino

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lonelywhalien22 · 2 years ago

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constant

pairing: sangyeon x reader

rating/genre: fluff + comfort <3

summary: after a long week of work, you and sangyeon barely have anything left in you to give, but what you do have you give to each other. selflessly.

warnings: none, just people choosing to love each other even when they’re exhausted <3

word count: 2.2k

song(s) to listen to while reading: good for you by eric nam, constant by jesse barrera ft. jeremy passion <3

note: back at it again with another comfort fic that i polished up from my old drafts. probably tmi but a while back i was listening to an episode of a podcast that was all about long-term partnership and this one idea of each partner rating their current level of capacity in a given moment was just fascinating to me. and then i wrote this wishing i had someone in my life like that. if that barely makes sense just read and you’ll get what im describing hopefully hehe. i'm in love with this type of relationship so i hope you enjoy <3

————

Sangyeon stepped through the door of your shared apartment that Friday evening to find that you were sitting comfortably in the living room with the television on, the sun having already set and the noise of commuters driving home having finally died down outside. It was quiet and peaceful, and his shoulders instantly relaxed as he finally shook off some of his work worries and thought ahead to the weekend - to finally getting to wind down with you and sleep in for the first time in too long.

“Hey babe,” you heard him say softly as you finally turned to look at him from your spot on the couch. You could see the tiredness radiating from his body, a large hand raking through his hair to push it out of his face as he gave you a little smile before hanging his jacket on one of the hooks you’d put up by the door.

You wished you could smile back but you’d had a rough day yourself - tired from work and getting stuck in traffic as you’d worried about a million little things on the way home.

He groaned as he noticed your expression, finally making his way over to you as he rubbed a hand over the back of your hair softly and gave you a peck on the forehead before plopping down on the couch. You couldn’t help but soften your expression when you felt his calming touches. That was Sangyeon – he was nothing if not instantly calming.

“Tell me where you’re at right now,” he asked of you softly, voice low as if he didn’t want to disturb your quiet. You turned to look at him, your eyes completely drained, and you could see the instant concern that radiated from him as you responded, even through his own tired eyes.

“I’m at like a 3 right now.”

Sometime after the two of you started dating you came up with a system to rate your emotional capacity at any given moment on a scale of 1 to 10. It seemed weird but it was really just a way for you both to quickly gauge how the other was feeling and know whether one of you was able to carry more of the load on any given day. The higher the number, the higher your capacity.

“I’m at a 4,” Sangyeon said immediately, and you gave him a pout.

It seemed like recently whenever you both happened to have bad days he always tried to be just a little higher than you so he could be the one to take care of things – take care of you. He didn’t like for you to worry about him even though you knew he needed to be taken care of too sometimes, just like anyone else. You made a mental note that from now on, you’d say your numbers at the same time.

“Sangyeon. Be honest with me.”

“I’ve had worse days,” he brushed your concerns away, easing around the subject.

You noticed how he didn’t try to insist he was telling you the truth about how he was feeling. Sangyeon always took his words seriously, treating them with a carefulness that almost rivaled how he treated you. He never was one to outright lie, and so after one too many times of buried feelings in the past, you’d learned how to read between the lines of his words. Sure, he may have had worse days, but that didn’t mean today wasn’t a particularly bad one.

You rubbed his arm a few times before shifting closer to him on the couch and resting your head against his chest. He wrapped an arm across your waist and pulled you in even closer, giving you another kiss in your hair as the two of you held each other. His movements comforted you, but you also knew that this was what he did to comfort himself after a long day. Doting on you was how he released his frustration sometimes.

He smelled like the laundry you two did together last weekend mixed with the day’s efforts and a hint of something that you could only describe as uniquely him, and if you were being honest you probably could have fallen asleep right there in his arms. But instead you kept rubbing your hand against his back in that way you knew he liked, hoping he’d relax some more and finally let go of whatever it was he’d been carrying all day like you wanted him to.

Eventually he released a deep sigh at your ministrations, and you felt his muscles relax underneath your palm. You hid the tiny smile that appeared on your lips, burying your head closer into his chest as he finally spoke up.

“Work was just a lot. Has been all week, but especially today.”

You hummed at his words gently.

“Did rehearsal go into overtime again?” And in response you felt him nod against your skin, the crook of his head now pressed into your neck.

“There was this one part we just really struggled to get in sync. And I kept worrying that I was messing up everyone else.” Sangyeon sighed again and you tried to hold onto him even tighter at those words. You knew how much he hated feeling like he wasn’t being a good leader to his group. How much he tended to carry that weight on his shoulders without a single complaint.

“I’m sorry babe. I can tell you’ve had a long day. You must be tired.”

“I’m sure you’re just as tired as me,” he said then, refusing to let you dismiss your own worries in your attempts to comfort him. Your mind drifted back to all the stuff you’d dealt with today.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he mumbled into your neck, breaking you out of your train of thought as he kissed the spot gently. You couldn’t help but smile a little at that despite your stress, combing your fingers through the strands at the back of his head as you thought about it for moment before finally responding.

“Not yet,” you answered. “What I really need right now is you. Holding me. Just like this. I missed you so much today.”

Sangyeon didn’t stress it, simply giving you what you asked for. After years of being together, he knew this was just how you were – you kept the complexities of your mind to yourself until you could really articulate what it was you wanted to say. And he was always there when you were finally ready to lay it all on him, even at the most random of times. He was always waiting for you with open arms, and you loved him for that.

“I missed you too. Did you eat?”

He separated himself from your hold just enough to look at you directly then, and you pursed your lips guiltily.

“No…but I did pick up some takeout.”

You had a bad habit of waiting to eat dinner until Sangyeon got home so the two of you could eat together - especially on Fridays, when he had the highest chances of getting back at a decent hour. That meant that sometimes you went without food for longer than was acceptable to him. Not to mention you’d toss and turn all night from the lack of digestion before bed. When you couldn’t sleep he couldn’t either, no matter how tired he was.

You looked up at him sheepishly then and you could tell he was about to scold you, but before he could, the two of you heard the loud rumble of his stomach.

“Uh…” Sangyeon started with his own guilty look.

You giggled, a smirk forming on your lips. The blush on his face was unmistakable as he averted his eyes from yours, rubbing the back of his reddening neck.

“Let’s eat,” you said, taking charge then.

You got up before he could hold you back with those tempting hands of his and began filling up two plates, grabbing water for the both of you as well and making your way back to the couch. He looked at you gratefully as he took a plate from your hands, eager to dig in. The two of you ate in silence, you spooning yourself up servings of kimchi fried rice while Sangyeon dove into a container of noodles and some egg rolls, his favorite from this spot a few blocks away from your place. He finished his food first, like he always did, sipping on his water as he stared over at you reverently.

“What?” You asked as you swallowed another mouthful of rice, a rare moment of self-consciousness bubbling up inside of you.

“I just like seeing you eat well. That’s all.”

He leaned in then and gave you a peck on your lips. It tasted faintly sweet like the sauce from his egg rolls and even though you knew he was trying to be quick you still got lost in it like you did every time he kissed you, closing your eyes for a moment before he pulled away.

“Uh uh, finish eating first and then let’s get ready for bed,” he chided, and you rolled your eyes, trying to finish the rest of your food as quickly as possible.

You’d already showered so once you were done eating you worked on brushing your teeth and cleaning your face as Sangyeon hopped into the shower. The two of you were so used to sharing space by now that you didn’t even blink twice as he took his shirt off before he even reached the bathroom. He finished undressing and slipped into the stream of warm water while you focused on yourself in the mirror, proud that you only peaked at his silhouette through the shower curtains once while he was cleaning up.

You were in bed laying under the sheets with a book in your hands when he finally got out of the bathroom, a look of pure bliss on his face as he put his towel away and made his way over to your shared bed. You could tell that, just as usual, he was feeling much better after a good shower.

He rolled under the sheets before leaning over towards you, his head craning towards your neck as he gave you another kiss there, this one slightly longer. You could feel the softness of his lips and smell the lavender scent of his shampoo, even noticing how smooth and soft the little bits of his skin that touched yours were from the lotion you always urged him to use.

You closed your book immediately and set it on the nightstand because you knew you wouldn’t be able to read a single word with him right beside you like this. Sangyeon shuffled even closer to you then, your shoulders touching as he raised his head to be at eye level again. His large hand landed on your thigh, the rough calluses of his palm contrasting with how gently he touched you and making goosebumps rise on your skin. You knew he was only touching you in a comfort sort of way but somehow it still made butterflies appear in your stomach - just like the first time the two of you ever laid together.

“Thank you,” you said softly as you looked over at him, not wanting to disrupt such a precious moment.

“For what?” he asked, a genuine curiosity lighting up his face.

You just tilted your head and shook it serenely, a tiny sigh leaving your lips.

“For taking care of me. Even when you’re exhausted.”

‘’Of course. I should be thanking you too, you know. I love you.”

He always said those three words so easily, like he was just breathing in air or blinking. They came out on instinct because at this point it was just a fact - he’d known for a while now that you were forever a part of him, simple as that.

You didn’t respond with words, instead leaning in with hooded eyes and cupping the side of his face with your hand. You kissed him softly, trying to tell him how you were feeling with your lips. Words had never come that easily to you.

He tilted his head and intensified the kiss, nipping at your lips a few times but keeping the pace slow and his kisses deep. You could feel his hair pressed against your forehead from how close he was and after a while it just felt like you were melting into each other somehow.

When you finally parted, he finished with another quick peck before quickly turning out the lamp on his side and pulling you into his arms, the two of you making yourselves comfortable as you laid down in bed.

“Come here,” Sangyeon mumbled in playful stubbornness, pulling you impossibly closer as you giggled.

Your head laid on his chest with an arm draped across his waist while his arm was securely wrapped around yours. The pairs of your legs tangled together seamlessly under the sheets as he laid on his back and you on your side, nestled into him.

As your eyes finally drifted closed, a whisper of “I love you too,” slipped from between your lips while your fingers rubbed back and forth across his wide chest, luring you to sleep.

“I know baby. I know.”

#sangyeon #sangyeon fluff #the boyz #the boyz fluff #the boyz imagines #sangyeon x reader #the boyz x reader #tbz fluff #tbz x reader #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios

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the-path-to-redemption · 4 months ago

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You know after looking back on the show. I refuse to believe that WF just disbanded after Adam defeat because you know who would've finish Adam work and rebuild WF?

The WF lieutenant that was always by Adam side.

If you go back to Vol 2 episode 11. He says these words at the beginning of his fight with Weiss.

"Finally, I get to kill a Schnee..."

And what did we find out about the Schnee treatment with faunus? Oh yeah slave labor and imprisonment for mine for dust. That means he could've been a slave like Adam and why he trust him so much.

Even Rwby: Atmity Arena quotes this about the lieutenant.

"As Adam Taurus' right hand Faunus, this hulking masked figure is a capable fighter with strength, speed, and toughness beyond even his most bestial peers. He has been seen leading many of the biggest White Fang attacks in remnant with his massive chainsaw. Yet none, know what kind of Faunus he is."

You can't tell he would've rebuild WF and become leader to finish Adam work. I would've love him to see him confront Weiss and this time showing her what her family has done to Faunus. Maybe even call out Blake for keeping it a secret about what her friends father has done to Faunus and how she never tole anyone about Adam mistreatment.

Long Post Ahead

Goddamn, I miss Banesaw so much.

He's such a cool looking design, and honestly, yeah I wholeheartedly agree with you on him being the next leader after Adam. Or just him continuing to exist within the Faunus narrative after Adam's death, because he's always been shown to be dutiful in his loyalty to Adam/the WF. Hell, he was the one who proposed to go after Blake after she deserted, and they had that confrontation on the train car during "No Brakes". Banesaw knew Blake, maybe her parents too, and it's a shame that he just disappear after Beacon when he's also a vessel for the nuances in the Faunus story line.

That Amity Arena card is just *chef's kiss*. Look at the supplementary continuing to add onto the show instead of said show doing it themselves and forcing fans to participate in as many products as possible. Not predatory and lazy at all /s.

And yes, Bane's card info was a great look into who he is as a character. His Faunus type being a mystery is also a great chance to look into Remnant as a whole, because it opens so many doors to the previously mentioned nuances. Does the mystery around his trait a result of oppression because his oppressor doesn't care about him at all to even distinct him from the other Faunus, and to them the only thing that matters from Bane was his physical feats? Or does Bane hide his trait to lessen day-to-day racial aggression and it's an unfortunate habit that he had to develop to survive? I love Bane so much, you have no idea.

Him and Weiss is on the same vein as Adam and Weiss; the SDC takes from Faunus until there's nothing left to take, and Weiss wanted to take over the legacy (at least during Beacon Era) without even glancing at their plights because of her own prejudice that she has to work through herself. These are two exploited minorities in front of her, and they could have went somewhere with it in V7 had Bane stuck around. Though I doubt it, with the mess that is Atlas as a whole.

As for Banesaw and Blake, I can see why he wouldn't call her out for not telling Weiss about Adam's brand. That information is not within Blake's rights to tell, because it's Adam's. Adam's trauma should've been his, and that's cool with me. However, Banesaw should have called Blake out for running, for being compliant while their people are continued to be discriminated against, for not fighting and would rather burn down her fucking house to goad a bunch of Faunus to fight for a kingdom that doens't like them when they just wanted to be left alone. Banesaw should have been given the chance to call Blake out for the coward she is, even though she's seen first hand what her friend's family can do to people like them and did nothing.

#answered #anonymous #rwde #rwby critical #banesaw rwby #rwby banesaw #banesaw #blake belladonna critical #anti faunus racism

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oleever-does-stuff · 6 months ago

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TADC Yapfest Timeee

As a certified yapper, the need to shove my random assortment of ideas down your throat has been tearing me apart. Therefore, I deem it yapfest time. Also, media literacy is apparently at an all-time low and I am nothing but a product of the environment I am molded in and I require you to understand that.

~♡~

Do you guys know that face Caine made when talking about mixing up NPCs and humans? What do you guys think that implied? Was it a red herring or hinting at something else? Because I so happen to have two things going on in my head.

Firstly and most obviously, I believe that some of the cast are NPCs in disguise. This first came to me with the realization that Jax, Pomni, and Ragatha all sound like real names (Jack or just...Jax, Penny, and Agatha) while Gangle and Zooble didn't (unless there are names similar in other countries I'm unaware of). Then I remembered that Kinger exists, and if Kinger is an NPC I won't recover. The idea that Zooble might be an NPC does seem likely to me for a multitude of reasons.

The first reason: Zooble's refusal to go on Caine's adventures. I doubt an NPC would like to go anywhere in a fake world after discovering what you were. Secondly, Zooble (to me) looks vastly different from the rest of the cast. She looks like she doesn't belong with the other circus members. I can't really find the description of what the rest of the cast looks like other than neat, while Zooble is just a jumble of objects and assortments. It looks like she belonged to a different world and ended up there. That might just be cool character design though and I'm an idiot. Overall Zooble just seems out of place but that might just be because it's episode ONE.

My second idea, one thats been lingering in my mind that Caine himself is human and just forgot after being there for so long. While maybe not as coherent or has as much supportive evidence as the previous it's still there. Perhaps Caine worked for the company that created the Circus, was put in there to run the first run-through, but never made it out. If he was the first trapee, maybe he would have been given host commands, and that would explain why he was the control of the circus (like a party leader).

~♡~

Within my no-sleep-filled fever dream of a mind, this led me to another conclusion. If people had been around this long, why was the game so unfinished? Why were people from the outside not helping. Now this is where my incompetency comes in because due to the Caine actually being human thing I had the idea, maybe the Circus project was abandoned, and that's why the game itself is so unfinished with people abstracting, no exit, things glitching in and out of the world so easily. After Caine they were just like "Oh shit, yeah let's not work on this no more", but people still end up finding their way in. (I also had the idea, as my boyfriend keeps trying to put random numbers in this paragraph, perhaps they queued too many testees. Every time someone abstracts, the next person in line joins but has no memory of that wait.) There's that one thing about Pomni working for the company that created TADC, +8and like I'm not well-versed in TADC theory and canon things I watched like maybe 2 episodes, saw a couple funny posts but...

The place looks run down, abandoned. What self-respecting office space would allow papers to litter the floor. Or a dusty, moldy-looking computer.

It looks like the company abandoned the workplace, this project, everything. Maybe Pomni got put in a queue of sorts, waited until there was an open space available to play. (Kaufmo. R.I.P)

~♡~

A different tangent. I saw something that mentioned TADC was inspired by "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream". Although I'm unaware how true that is, it does lead me to wonder what the end for Pomni will be like. Will she end up saving the others from the digital hell, but be stuck there forever in return? Would she end up as Caine or be stuck with him to live out eternity?

also this is 100% going to be a problem, look at all of them just chilling.

I wrote this tangent at almost midnight, please forgive me I will edit in the morning (Afternoon).

Edited: more well written

#:3 #the amazing digital circus #tadc #fan theories #stupid talks #tangent #yapfest #i have no mouth and i must scream #tadc pomni #tadc zooble #tadc caine #tadc theory #my post

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burnwater13 · 3 months ago

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Garsa Fwip's Sanctuary in Mos Espa, on Tatooine. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 2, The Tribes of Tatooine. Calendar from DateWorks.

Grogu had heard of ‘Cantina Culture’, but honestly he thought it had something to do with infectious disease control. All sorts of people travelled to Tatooine and as a planet with a limited water supply, hygiene practices that were typical on Corellia or Chandrila couldn’t be readily employed. You had to bring your own sanitizer and you had to understand that the sanitizing stations at the space port near Mos Eisley had run out of sanitizing anything a long time ago.

He was explaining that all to Peli Motto when she began to laugh, loudly and with more gusto than a serious discussion of public hygiene deserved.

“Buddy, ‘Cantina Culture’ isn't about that kind of biology. It’s about the people who go to a cantina and the sort of things they expect of that cantina. For instance, here, everyone who goes into the cantina knows ya gotta be able to play sabacc. If ya can’t play, ya stay. Simple rule. Now, take Mos Pelgo…”

Grogu waved his hands to interrupt her to no avail.

“They… Okay, okay, Freetown, whatever. Any how, up there ya gotta have a spotchka. Ya gotta share the latest gossip. Ya gotta laugh at the Marshal’s jokes. That’s how they roll up there. Over in Mos Espa, well, there you better have more credits than ya know what to do with. Those Twi’lek dancers and servers will spend it for ya before you can say, ‘No, I don’t want my boots polished’. Even if I had boots needing polishing I wouldn’t let them do it at three times the cost of having the pit droids do it. Ridiculous waste of credits.”

She stopped talking to take a breath and then didn’t start back up.

“Where was I? Oh, yeah, depending on the town, the people, the products available, and a bunch of other factors, every cantina you walk into is nothing like the last cantina you were in. That’s ‘Cantina Culture’. I’m surprised yer dad didn't explain that to ya. Although, come ta’ think of it, do Mandalorian’s even have cantinas?”

Peli was looking at him expectantly as if he and his dad had been to a bunch of them over the course of their adventures. He shrugged at her. He didn’t think that Mandalorians bothered with stuff like that. They were too busy trying to make sure that ex-Imps weren’t hiding around the corner from everywhere they were.

“Well, when yer dad gets back, he can tell us all about ‘em.”

Peli had settled the matter to her own satisfaction and then walked back to her office, yelling at the pit droids to get her boots and start polishing them. Grogu giggled at that. You never knew which part of a conversation you had with her was going to be the part that stuck. Grogu doubted that she’d remember to ask his dad about Mandalorian cantinas and what kind of culture they had.

Grogu thought that was a silly question any way. Based on everything they already knew about Din Djarin and the handful of other Mandalorians he’d met, Grogu could tell you just what a Mandalorian cantina was like.

First, it wasn’t called a cantina. It was called a ‘bar’. It was called that because cantina sounded too fun and tavern was too friendly. ‘Bar’ conveyed the right sort of purposefulness of the establishment. Get in, get out, get back to work.

Mandalorians were very deliberate people and they didn’t mess around with subtleties. You lined up at the bar top and were given a drink with a straw and you put your foot on the bar at the bottom of the structure to allow you to rest a little. No chairs. No tables. No booths. No music. No decorations. No problems.

Grogu had no doubt that they entered and left in shifts and were only allowed there at certain times of day and on certain days of the week. Organized, methodical, routine, predictable, boring certainty.

Then he considered what a Jedi cantina would be like. He sighed and laughed at the same time. His first thought was that it would be empty and his second thought was it would be the absolute opposite of a Mandalorian bar. It would be filled with sound. At least two or three different sources of music would be present and playing at the same time. You would just focus on the one you liked better and you wouldn’t even notice the others. The furniture would look like it had been found at a recycling center. It would be every size, every style, every color and just pushed into the large room in a manner that would immediately suggest that it had once been used to barricade the entry.

Grogu didn’t know who would have been foolish enough to try and attack a Jedi cantina. Only a bunch of fools. Of course the Jedi wouldn’t have called it a cantina either. They would have given it a semi-ironic nickname like a ‘watering hole’ or a lounge. The images those names evoked were almost opposites and that's just what the Jedi would have been counting on. No reason to advertise that the location was primarily about goofing off and playing chess or darts with your fellow knights and masters, no padawans allowed.

He giggled at that. He suspected that rule would apply to younglings as well, but he couldn’t imagine a Jedi watering hole that would have been able to keep Ian out. His friend had an absolute sixth sense for spaces like that and had made a regular study of them at the Jedi Temple. That’s how Master Yoda’s private swamp ended up hosting a younglings festival night when the powerful Jedi had been called away to travel to Trymant IV. Grogu wished that event had established a youngling cantina culture, but you couldn’t hide a fifty foot water slide from Master Yoda, no matter how many of the younglings worked together to make it disappear.

“Hey buddy, I’m back. Peli said you wanted to go to the Cin Vhetin.”

The Mandalorian was suddenly there and seemed pretty happy for a change.

Grogu asked why.

“Peli said you wanted to see a real honest to B’Omarr Mandalorian drinking establishment. One just opened here in Mos Eisley. If we go now they’ll still have Fire Stacks. You won’t want to miss them.”

Huh? A Mandalorian drinking establishment that served food? You could have knocked Grogu over with a feather. His dad wanted to get something to eat that wasn't a ration pack? Grogu jumped up into his dad’s arms and bumped his head against the Mandalorian’s helmet. He thought it was important to encourage his dad to go new places and try new things, especially when he was along for the ride.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #the book of boba fett #peli motto

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80s4life · 1 year ago

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Pawns”

Word Count: 4,522

Status: Requested!

Ask: Pleeeeeaase write more of Cal from titanic. Literally any prompt I’m so hungry😭

Ask #2: Pleasee could we have more cal hockley content, specifically more chapters for "the things I've never done" and even more short stories if you have the time, I love your work 💕 [THANK YOU SM! I WAS STARTING TO GET SELF CONSCIOUS OF MY WORK AGAIN]

Ask #3 will have an attachment to a separate Cal fic as well, so no request will be shown here until that one.

@: Three cutie pie nonnies!

Relationship: Caledon “Cal” Hockley x Female!Reader

Fandom: Titanic 1997

Summary: Thrusted into the roaring 20′s, all you wanted to be was free and outgoing as all the booming women in city. However, your father’s deal with the devil seals your fate in the hands of your advisor and boss, Caledon Hockley; a man who is haunted by memories, stubborn in his ways, and opposed to the newfound strength in the young women of America. You’re a slave at his will in his eyes, yet you’re just as free as the new reformed women in your own. You’re stuck at a standstill in this endless game of chess, but who’s the pawn?

Warnings: forbidden, early 1900′s morals and customs, Reader is a maid, Cal is the head of the house, Post-Titanic sinking, mature language, kinda spicy, PTSD, domestic violence (included in a PTSD episode ONLY), Kind of a Beauty and The Beast AU for inspiration

{gif is not mine, credit goes to @locke-writes}

It was all an act of practicality from the start: your father owed his father money and he had a set of nimble hands to rid himself of.

Nathan Hockley was a millionaire who dealt in the steel tycoon business in Pittsburgh. Your father had a habit of gambling with the wrong people, which had allegedly caused your father to have an uncomfortable run-in with the powerful man. Unable and too stubborn to do so, your father handed you off as a way of reparation for the damage the bastard had caused.

Nathan’s son, Caledon Hockley, was the exact replica of his father. He was cunning, stubborn, powerful and wealthy; a disrupting mixture of facets that could either lift or crush you with a simple snap of a finger. He was dangerous, among many of his other qualities, which made your business in the Hockley’s presence just that much harder.

With the pandemonium that followed the sinking of the Titanic in 1914, the physical and mental effects had taken ahold of Nathan’s deeply treasured and only son, practically keeping him on house arrest until he was “better”. However, to both Nathan and Caledon’s dismay, 6 years had done nothing for his declining health, the reasoning behind why Nathan had administered you into Caledon’s household in the first place.

All of these events have led you up to this point, your suitcase rolling behind you as one of the many maids in the manor lead you up to your room to unpack. You haven’t seen this young and precarious man yet, but something is telling you that you most likely don’t want to. You are soon to be given your list of instructions to follow immediately and precisely; left to your own devices to either stay afloat or drown in the fury of the Hockley men.

Maria, a young maid in her 20′s, around your age, approaches you with a pure and youthful grin, a light blush to her cheeks. Her hair is cut into a cropped bob of black hair with short but soft curls, her lean frame with modest green eyes making her endearing - intoxicating. “You must be Miss Y/L/N?” her cutesy, high pitched voice only adding to her allure and picturesque innocence.

“Yes, that’s me,” you mutter, displaying your hands as if to show yourself off in sarcasm.

“No need to be so glum!” she giggles, bowing her head to catch your eyes and raise your line of sight. “I’m Maria Espinosa, but I’d assume the least you’d want right now is formalities.”

You snort, but let her continue nonetheless.

“I’ve your instructions - written myself, of course!” she smiles brightly; any harder and she might break her face. “As you know, with your appointment into this manor, the rest of the faculty will be let off, per Nathan Hockley’s request. But, don’t fret, the list is simple, short and can last all day without having to pay too much mind. Every Tuesday and Thursday, there will be a grocer that will restock the cabinets, refrigerator, etc. and help you with the cleaning. You are not to touch the east wing and only reside within the west - this will help eliminate the messes to clean and prevent extra exertion-”

“Sorry, if I may be crude, why are we not to go in the east wing?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“It was...” Maria drifts off, choosing her words lightly, “After the accident in 1914, the east was torn by his own hands. It was once used for balls and such, but after the Titanic,” she whispers the name as if someone might hear her, “Caledon was bedridden and sick, upset, angry, any emotion in the book. He used that wing as a way to let those emotions out.”

You stay silent as you stare at her with morbid curiosity and fear, nodding once before returning your attention to the list. The rest seems easy, not like the job was ever hard to begin with, just an annoyance for better words.

Maria clears her throat, “Anyway, you must make at least two meals a day, mainly breakfast and dinner, both at 8 am and 8 pm. Caledon might decide not to have lunch some days, but if he does, make sure it is brought to him by 12 pm. He doesn’t like tardiness, so as long as you follow the rules as tightly as you can, you won’t be a target. Any questions?”

“No, no. I’d presume you’d want to be heading out?” you smirk at her mischievously and instantly watch as her taut muscles relax.

“Very much so, yes! It’s been forever since I’ve had a moment of freedom.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you shoo her off playfully. This is your family’s mess to clean, the least you can do is let her be free of the shackles that are now passed down and chained to your ankles.

Maria is halfway through the door when she turns to you from the foyer, “I’ll do a monthly checkup to make sure everything is in line, and for a little company in your lonesome, okay?”

You smile gratefully, hands coming up to play with your nails, “Thank you, you’re very kind. Though, I don’t want to be a burden.”

“A burden? You just gave me my freedom!” she exclaims, laughing as she waves a hand. “I’ll be back by the end of the month! Settle in and enjoy the quiet!”

The moment the door slams shut, your shoulders droop heavily. Your eyes scan the spacious mansion with frightening curiosity. You’ve never even remotely been near land such as this, and now that you’re inside, it feels almost too much. You let your hands glide the carved wooden banister as you walk up the huge steps to the second floor, taking a left down a hall.

Your legs carry you down the long corridor, and, as you place your key into the fob, your eyes lay onto the door across from yours: ‘Lord Hockley’ carved neatly on the door. There’s a rustling behind it and footsteps that approach the other side of the door, eliciting you to push the key one click further and dive through the door as quickly and quietly as possible.

You flop onto the bed with a huff, trying to calm the beating of your heart just enough to allow you to unpack and prepare dinner within the course of 3 hours. When your room is finished, you nod in satisfaction, taking a bath in the connected bathroom and changing into a thin, sheer dress before exiting your room and back down the steps to the kitchen.

Finally do you take the time to read the list on your own. It includes very detailed and descriptive instructions, easy nonetheless, of medication usages and what to do with each, meal plans, recipes, a map of which rooms to clean and how to clean each one, and Caledon’s nightly and morning rituals to follow precisely.

Shrugging your shoulders, you roll your neck to release the tension before opening the cookbook up to the recipe designed for today’s date. “Pork roast,” you state alloud, cringing at the echo of your voice being followed by more movement in Hockely’s room.

Your mind roams as your eyes get lost at the sight of the luscious woods out the window, hands deftly whisking away at the pork roast’s grease with the intent of making a nice gravy to coat the dry, but tender pork roast. Shaking your head, you peer down and try to busy yourself with the already settling boredom you’re consumed by.

You can hear the halls creak, the water drip from the faucet, birds chirping outside, the soft sway of the wind, random clicks, ticks, and other noises. You’re destined to go insane.

You jump unexpectedly with the sound of a crash from upstairs. The noise comes from the general direction of Caledon’s room and you all but groan at what the sound indicates - what your being here demands.

Putting the roast of low, you close the lid with a soft click before ascending up the stairs to Caledon’s room. You stand outside the door, hand on your heart, as you try to calm your rapid heartbeat and breathing. This was to come about sooner rather than later, so you should be glad it’s happening now. However, the banging continues within the room and you know that even if you had met him in a few months, the hell that follows him would never be escaped for as long as your father’s debt remains.

Knocking on the hard wooden door, you speak softly, “Lord Hockley? Is everything alright?”

You’re not given an answer, only the sound of something heavy being thrown and falling to the floor.

“Lord Hockey?” you call out again, louder this time. Unsurprised, you are followed by no answer once more. Annoyance creeps into your words a third and final time, “Lord Hockley, I will come in there myself if you do not open this door. Now,” you demand.

Shrugging when no voice calls to you form the other side of the door, your hand twists the doorknob and pushes the door open. You legs carry you only so far before they stutter to a stop just past the door frame.

Just before you, there is a disheveled, sweaty Caledon Hockley, fit from youth and some maturity in his thirties, shirtless. His eyes look crazed, like a madman, as his hands grip a chair at his desk with white knuckles. Around the room, there’s shelves torn down, broken, books in a disarray on the floor. His bedsheets are thrown about with the other chair from his desk propped against the wall in his fury.

You stare wide-eyed, but somehow, not alarmed in the slightest. You were accustomed to this sort of outburst, especially within the hard working men. You saw it in your father - even in your younger brother. “Lord Hockley,” your voice is softer again, all annoyance and anger lost at the door.

His eyes snap up to you, as if he had just noticed your arrival or presence. “What are you doing in here? You are not to barge in a man’s room, that is uncouth for a woman of your age and status. What is wrong with you?”

“Lord Hockley-” you try to start your confession.

“A woman is not to speak up to a man; are you ferel? Are you-?”

You don’t allow him to finish his slandering, “-I am mentally efficient, Lord Hockley, and very aware of my positioning here. However, I did knock, three times to be exact, with no answer. There had been a ruckus in here for about-” you peer up at the clock above his desk, “-an hour and a half now. I came to be of assistance, but if my help is unwanted, I’d happily leave you to your self-pity on your own?”

He has no other emotion present except bewilderment plastered to his face; eyes wide, mouth agape, and at a struggle for words. His fists clench and unclench as his eyes pan down to stare at the floor, appearing deep in thought.

“Lord Hockley, if I may be so bold?” you ask, scanning his body language and searching to find the meaning of this man’s crazed outburst.

“Go ahead,” he mutters, a hand going up to rub some hair from his eyes, still staring at the floor.

“You may confide in me if that means helping your mental health?” you offer. You know this could go one of two ways: either one, he’ll turn you away, suffer alone, and claim that men have no such weaknesses, or two, he’ll let his guard drop and release him from these dark episodes he’s no stranger to. The latter seems rather unlikely.

“I am not mental.”

“I did not say that. I was simply insisting that everyone has a dark place their mind goes to, which is a detriment to a person’s mental health. Let alone someone who is expected to heal quickly and pick up the family business, am I correct?”

Just as you thought you were getting somewhere, Cal’s eyes snap back up to yours with anger, the malicious anger tearing at his body again, “You know nothing of my family’s business and nothing of me. You have no audacity as to even assume or place yourself in my shoes. I should have you thrown out or hanged for your mouth alone. Get out!”

“Just trying to be of service, sir, since I’m at your will!” you smile sickeningly, bowing to him and sliding through the door just as a book is picked up and thrown.

You let out a deep breath of air on the other side of his door, now in the safety of the hallway. Your throat tightens with a soft sob, tears welling in your eyes. You truly feel as a prisoner on death row, hands and ankles encased in heavy metal cuffs; struggling to walk under the watchful gazes and heavy chains slowing you down, keeping you locked in this manor.

You weren’t the perpetrator, you know this, but you were framed to support the guilty with your own naivety and love.

You drag yourself back down to the kitchen to finish the man’s meal with dejection, but still devoted for the greater future - when you no longer have to be a maid in this manor and be free, lost in the world again.

“Lord Hockley?” you call once more at his door, only this time, you’re holding his tray of dinner. “I have your meal, are you decent?”

You hear a muffled ‘Yes’ and proceed through the door cautiously.

It seems he’s settled now, sitting at his desk with notes and papers scattering the floor and desk. He hadn’t cleaned the room, which you suspected you’d have to clean in the near future. However, you notice the bed is drenched in liquid, and when you look back at him, you notice sweat beading at his forehead, a thin sheen of sweat glistening against his skin.

“Lord Hockley?” you call again, stepping closer towards him. He chooses not t answer you, so you press further. “You’re sweating.”

“I’m very well aware of what my body is doing.”

“Are you feeling ill? I can help you if-” you are cut off by his fist meeting the solid oak of the desk.

“I do not need any assistance from the likes of you, nor do I want it,” his voice is stern, scary.

You try not to lose your temper so easily this time, so you give him a kind, tight-lipped smile. “Of course, my lord, you are a man after all. A man is able to take care of himself just fine, though he installs many maids within his manor. Maids like me,” you giggle dryly, “What shall I do instead, since you are able to clean, cook, and much more without the help of the ‘likes of me’?”

Caledon only groans, “Just leave the food here, you are dismissed. I’ll leave my tray for you to clean in the morning.”

“Oh, how kind,” you roll your eyes, scurrying to the door.

“Oh, and Miss, maybe you could find a better countenance and leave your convictions in your pillow when you arise. Wouldn’t want to explain to my father - and yours - as to why you were no longer needed and let go.”

You can hear the sinister smirk in his voice, but you choose to ignore it - for now - and head to bed briskly.

The next two weeks follow you in a similar form. You do as your told, albeit begrudgingly, and get into many of your childish arguments. Your interactions with the man are nasty and violent at times, always finding yourself dodging an object, taking threats, and coming in the next morning asking for more.

More, more, more; you ask for more because there is nothing else to be given. You have to take everything as a grain of salt. You have to because this means your father’s life and yours. If you manage to screw up, and you will, they will not only have your father’s head, but yours for Caledon’s punctured ego.

Though, somewhere within those weeks, you started to care less and less.

“Lord Hockley?” you knock at his door, tray of food in hand. He once more gives you no answer, so you push in.

Greeted by no light in the room, you walk around in the darkness, knowing this room like the back of your palm now. Placing the tray of food on the oak countertop and go to strike a match, lighting the candle on the desk. Going around the room, you light each and every one of them until the room is dimly lit enough to see.

On the bed, you find Caledon, sweat having gotten worse as you’ve noticed he never leaves his room. When you step closer, he is shivering, teeth chattering. Worried, you go to place the back of your hand to his forehead, but quickly draw your hand back when he jerks upright.

“Lord Hockley!” you jump, the ghost of his skin still lingering on the pads of your fingers. “You’re burning up, I need to help assist you now. You’re very ill and the sickness has gone on long enough-”

“No!” his voice rips through you quiet pleas, rattling off the walls.

“But, Lord Hockley-”

“I said ‘No’! I do not want assistance, I am a grown man!”

“’You can take care of yourself’, yeah, yeah, bullshit!” you scream, the frustration, fear, and hurt finally meeting your words as you are blinded by your emotions.

“What did you say?” Caledon looks at you in disbelief.

You cringe as you can guess what is about to take place in mere minutes, but you don’t hold back anymore. “Is your bigotry deafening your hearing or did you hear me call bullshit?”

Shakily, Caledon gets off his bed, his frame towering yours as he glares down at you with pale skin and dark, chocolate brown eyes.

“Your father wouldn’t want you to be sick, knowing that you would have to run his business soon.”

“My father-” Caledon cuts himself off, a hand going to wipe his face. “This has nothing to do with the business.”

“No? Well then, why else would I have to pamper you like a king? Is it because you’re defective?”

Caledon’s pacing now, trying to calm his increasing ragged breathing.

“Or is it because your useless to him? Mentally unstable?” you continue, trying to get a rise out of him.

“You know nothing of his business nor my personal life!” Caledon snaps back to you, anger finally bursting.

As his anger ensues, he takes steps close to you each time, piercing his thick index finger into you chest for emphasis. “You are nothing, you are worthless. I am a wealthy businessman. I am a strong, independent man with power. People would miss me if I were gone!”

“If you’re such a big man, you wouldn’t lock yourself away in your room like a toddler.”

That’s what finally did him in. You pressed a personal button when your short quips finally hit a nerve, testing his masculinity. Before you have time to react, a glass vase is hurled at you. It was a short throw, and was nowhere near your face, however it caught you by surprise and smashed against your hip.

You ignore the pain, though all you wanted to do was bury yourself in a hole. You came here to help him, but all you are returning is anger and hurt that is most definitely placed at you.

“You’re sick and it is my job to take care of you, so your father won’t have my ass because his baby boy isn’t okay. It’s my job to make sure you are very well satisfied. It is my job that you get your linens washed, food prepared, room cleaned, and make it my duty that your estate is fully functioning all on my own!” you jab a finger in his direction, placing more distance between your bodies until your back hits his door, his body on the other side of the room behind his desk.

He goes to say more, but you cut him off with more furious blows.

“Though, what isn’t my job is to allow you to threaten me. It isn’t my job to be belittled and yelled at by you. It isn’t my job to allow you to throw objects and whatever anger you have and hurl them at me! That is not my job, nor what I will allow any longer!”

“I never asked you to be here. I didn’t want you here. You forced yourself into my estate to protect your father. You knew what you were getting into just by the public papers alone. You knew what was to be expected and yet you came here anyway. You made a prisoner and a victim of yourself.” Caledon’s gaze does not falter and neither does yours.

“You’re correct, Lord Hockley, I may have known what I was getting myself into. What I didn’t know nor expect was the childish frustration and blatant disregard for human decency. I’ve tried over and over again to be kind, but against your better judgement, you couldn’t allow me to be the person to hold such compassion.”

Your eyes are welling up with tears now as you feel a warm liquid flow down your palm and to the tips of your fingers.

“You do not understand what is bothering me and you never will,” Caledon finally starts to calm himself, the self-pity returning as he recounts lost memories you cannot decipher.

“No, but I have made it abundantly clear that I was here to help assist you. However, you saw it as being weak, so it wasn’t in your cards to even allow me the common courtesy of being a human being. You felt as if I was lying to you.”

“God, you are so annoying,” Caledon groans.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“You know, when you’re silent, I almost like you - wait, are you injured?”

“No!” you yell almost instantaneously.

“Did I do that? Its dripping on the floor, what happened?”

“The glass,” you almost stutter, the atmosphere changing quickly. “The glass shatter and cut some of my hand, I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt.”

“And, you’re ill.”

Caledon sighs, his shoulders slumping. Motioning for you to exit the room, Caledon says nothing as you make a silent pact to clean up.

You are suffering whiplash from the sudden change of emotion and it leaves you on edge, but with the cooling of his mood, it allows the adrenaline and some stiffness to leave you. Confusion overtakes your mind.

Guided into the kitchen, you start to take out numerous medications, searching for something to accommodate his symptoms. Caledon walks up to you quietly, almost afraid to get too close.

You do not say or look at each other, finally finding the right medicine and sliding it to him on the counter before sitting down on one of the bar stools. He sits beside you carefully, taking the medicine.

Taking some gauze and wiping away the cuts with an alcohol wipe, you struggle to wrap your hand. That is, until a warmer, larger one goes to encompass it gently, waiting for an action of opposition to its intentions.

Caledon gaze burns the side of your head before you finally acknowledge him with fear. Softly, he starts, “…Just allow me to help?”

You nod softly as the tears form in your eyes again. Some time passes before you finally work up the nerve to ask, “Why do you do this?”

Caledon looks up from you hand with confusion, which urges you on to elaborate, “Why does your mood change so swiftly, so suddenly?”

Sighing, Caledon gives you a firm look, as if he’s deciding whether to trust you or not - to tell you. “The Titanic,” he starts, “When I survived, I lost almost all of who I was. When I returned home to my father, I was constantly burdened with memories. They would consume me, control me, until I felt like a madman. The only solution was anger. When the anger takes control, there is no longer that burning sadness, guilt, and regret; no hoping I’d done something differently. I couldn’t allow myself to do that because I was no longer that man anymore.”

“It’s scary,” you croak, peering into his eyes.

“It is, but what’s worse is the life I’ve lived after the episodes. My father found me defective, worthless. I will never be able to fully recover, which is bad for business. He locked me away in this estate to stay hidden from prying eyes, bedridden to remain unseen even in this secluded property. I insist on doing the simplest actions myself because it makes me feel as if I’m showing my father I am still capable, just changed.”

You nod slowly as you take in this new information, grateful. The man has finally opened up to you, he’s no longer a stranger in his own home as it seems.

Calmly, Caledon pats your hand, signalling that the wrapping is done. A hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair from your face, resting it on your cheek just afterwards. “I know I’ve hurt you, but please, try to understand me, I’m not asking for your forgiveness... I just wanted you to understand-”

“You don’t need to ask that, I already forgave you a long time ago,” you smile softly, placing one of your hands on his opposing cheek. “We will learn to adapt, just as you have many times before. We are no longer strangers, yeah?”

“Yes,” Caledon smiles with glossy eyes.

“We will work on this together. You are not alone anymore.”

Caledon looks at you with uncertainty.

“I am here, always. Understood?”

“Understood.”

Kissing his forehead softly, you other hand goes to be placed on his shoulder, “Repeat it.”

“I am not alone,” a tear slides down his cheek.

“Not as long as I’m alive,” you smirk, placing a kiss to each of his eyelids.

“Never again,” the both of you say together, lips finally meeting as if to seal the promise the both of you now shared deep in your hearts.

“Never alone.”

#caledon hockley #caledon hockley x reader #caledon hockley imagine #billy zane #billy zane x reader #billy zane imagine #titanic 1997 #titanic x reader #titanic imagine #titanic #cal hockley #cal hockley x reader #cal hockley imagine #1997 #rose dewitt bukater #xreader #female reader

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necrotic-nephilim · 1 month ago

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HARD AGREE on the “Jason would not be pacified by Bruce considering killing the joker” Bruce does leave the joker to die, in an era where Bruce left kgb to die, not far off from casually throwing out “I’ve killed in self defence before” lines and those not being stamped out by the editorial mandate. Bruce’s morality at the time is a little more complicated. Exceptions can be made.

But Bruce, in grief, in despair, giving up, because Jason is dead and *joker will never stop being a problem* allowing joker to fall into the river, and then what? I think about a year later joker recovers from the mental episode that interaction and injury gave him and goes back to killing and Bruce has lost his conviction to do what jason sees as right. Jason would be MORE mad. I think Jason, late into his robin run and in uth, can’t believe Bruce is anything but detached from the people because he is clinging to the “antiquated sense of morality” and he wishes his death were the thing that finally shook Bruce by the shoulder and made him take it personally. But Bruce is already taking it personally, lmao

I do disagree a bit on jason being motivated purely by Bruce’s love, instead of seeing murder as the solution to a problem, but I can admit that I *want* to see that, and even then I think it’s both. Pragmatism AND revenge, and both are reasons Bruce does not think excuse murder. Jason is simultaneously valuing some lives above others (innocent VS guilty) and devaluing the act of intentionally murdering or killing in comparison to the numbers game. And there is something hypocritical about that, but very human.

(Metatextually I love how what Jason came back with was like a clinging to the time he was born/created in and every other Batman character moved on, but Jason’s stuck in Jason’s comics.)

somehow this got longer than the post it's jumping off of, so i added a read more just to not spam but oh the thoughts i have <3

i ABSOLUTELY agree on bruce's morals being far more complex than ever given credit for. there's this belief he's very black and white and perfectly stable in his anti-murder mindset, and even pushes it onto other characters. but that's really not true- he regularly works with and gets along with people who are pro-murder, and his *entire* issue is he's always thinking about murder. he's always tempted by that edge, which leads to situations where he *might* leave someone for dead if he's caught on the wrong day. because yes he's anti-killing to the extreme degree, but he's anti-killing because he *wants* to kill, not bc he doesn't want to. he's so tempted, especially when it's personal. Bruce routinely *will* get personal in a fight. the reason he can't make an exception (like what Jason wants) is because it's a dam, for Bruce. and if the dam breaks, the dam breaks. he firmly believes if he slips once, he will never stop falling and that's why he *can't* kill Joker. not because he doesn't want to, not because he hasn't thought about it. so yeah, it would piss Jason off more to know Bruce was considering it briefly in that arc, bc at the end of day, he didn't. he never falters. not even when faced with the loss of *Jason*.

i absolutely see your point, i think Jason post revival is incredibly pragmatic in how he kills. and there's a pragmatic angle to killing the Joker, for him. it's a pure logistical issue that he outright states- there's a *difference* between Joker and any other rogue. Joker exists in his own league and killing him will undoubtedly save lives. and so, there's that angle of purely wanting the Joker dead for the numbers game.

but the way Jason approached that conversation, to me personally, was from the perspective of himself as *Robin*. when he spoke about "if it was you [...] i would've done nothing but search the planet [for Joker]", he was speaking from the perspective of his child self. because Jason fully believes had the roles been reversed when he was Robin, he would've killed Joker. (and i agree, he would've) when i say Jason was fueled entirely by love in his violent actions, i mean Robin!Joker, because Jason is processing this both from the perspective of his current changed self, and the dead version of himself he no longer is. the current Jason views murder pragmatically, but a Robin Jason viewed it through a lense of revenge, and he understands his love for Bruce (when he was that age) through that lens, and believes it should've been reciprocated by Bruce in that manner. and so much of UTRH is a trauma response and fueled by Jason's emotions, to me personally! the pragma is put aside, because he could've killed the Joker a dozen times, but he didn't. he needed Bruce to kill the Joker.

and you brought up a great point about how Jason was disillusioned by Bruce even when he was still Robin. fanon like to paint Bruce during Jason's Robin run as a perfect fatherly figure and all of that time was completely loving, but it wasn't. Bruce regularly was sort of shitty to Jason and Jason's hero worship view of Bruce faltered because of Bruce's detachment and how he grossly mishandled certain things, in Jason's eyes. so in a way, i think Jason is desperately clinging to the belief that this detachment was temporary and it was something they would've worked through and that Bruce still loved him. because Jason is someone who's constantly in his head about whether or not he is to blame for his own death and if Bruce blamed him too. i think it's *why* Jason needs that proof of love from Bruce in killing Joker- because it will at the very least mean that even at their worst, Bruce loved him and could cross the line for Jason. but he won't. that's why it all comes down to love for me, but i definitely agree there is a pragma to it as well!! i just think it's emotionally driven first, hence not shooting Joker in front of Bruce immediately.

also, GOD i love metatextual discussions surrounding Jason. i love metatextually discussing the whole Batfam, but Jason specifically is fascinating, how much of his character and story will be forced to play out certain beats and never fully move on from them. because in the text, we're at the point *every* member of the Batfamily has died. some of them, for significant periods of time. Bruce's death arc was iconic, Dick had his death and subsequent Spyral arc, Damian was dead for quite a bit, and so on. but most of those events aren't lingered on in comics and aren't considered to be important to characterization. they were important singular arcs, but are not titular to these characters.

but with Jason, he was backed into a wall the moment he came back from the dead. because most fans -self included- don't have recent memory of reading comics in a time where Jason was still dead. he's been alive for nearly two decades (or: over two decades if you count Hush) and yet, because he was dead in comics for *so long*, the luster of his return is something that'll likely never wear off. characters in comics come back to life all the time- but not after almost two decades of being gone. we had the Bucky Clause for a reason- it was understood by fans no one is really dead, except Jason Todd, Bucky Barnes, and Uncle Ben. (and i always find it delightfully fun both Jason and Bucky came back in 2006.) it was just a hallmark of comics. so Jason's return was a big deal, it was a spectacle and his entire character was formed around it. and now, comics are never going to let him move on from it. no matter how many times he does, we're going to fall back to bringing up his death, his trauma, the Joker, his morals. he can stop killing for a month and get along with everyone, and then he'll backslide. because the comics don't know what else to do with him.

and that's not a dig at Winick -who wrote most of Jason's comics during his era of return- i think Winick did fantastic things with Jason and could've developed Jason in really interesting directions had he been given the space to. but because there's always a writer and editorial shuffle, it's about what DC at large is doing with him. no matter how much growth and development any writer will pour into Jason, he *will* backslide. it will become about his death and his Robin era again. it's why we keep retelling and retelling his death story (two different animated movies atp, with a *just* announced new one in the works for him and Dick) in adaptation rather than building off of it. it's rare and unique for a character to come back like this.

and being a Winter Soldier fan as well, it's interesting to me, given he's the only character who's comparable to Jason, having his death be such a big moment and then be dead for years. because while Bucky's death and his time as a teenage sidekick are certainly emotionally significant to him, they're really not what the bulk of his runs focus on. he gets to develop nuanced relationships and have interesting arcs and development outside of his backstory. so it's certainly doable, but it's not being done with Jason. which is frustrating bc to keep from rewriting identical comics, Jason's personality just gets changed every new time we retell this story. it makes him feel inconsistent and it makes stories written about his Robin era now feel unreliable in characterization.

and it makes for a bizarre difference in the way Jason's death is treated versus everyone else's. because sure, Jason's death holding more weight canonically makes sense, he was dead for years and he was the first real loss that the Batfam felt. but he's not the only one who's been changed by death- not even the only one who's been changed by the Lazarus Pit in the Batfam. so much of his character surrounds his death and his feelings about it. like you said, everyone else has moved on and he hasn't. i'm always interested in how to handle metatextual reasonings for things vs the textual canon when it comes to the significance of events or things feeling OOC. because i personally think Jason would move on eventually. not that his angry would go away or he would forgive Bruce, but he just has other shit to do. he deserves other wants and goals and there are a lot of interesting places to take him. but there will never be any real commitment to any change made to him so instead, at best he feels static and at worst he feels OOC and inconsistent. which sucks, bc pre-Flashpoint Jason was one of my favorite characters and there *are* post-Flashpoint stories i like with him, that i think were doing interesting things. but it's hard to get into a Red Hood story when you know nothing about it is going to matter in a few years and the cycle will rinse and repeat.

#necrotic answerings #jason todd #bruce wayne #character meta #i love metatextual analysis when it comes to comics #and how the medium affects the narrative #bc the medium affected jason's narrative *hard*#had the red hood arc happened like a year or so after his death it would not be *nearly* as significant #nor would he be nearly as important as a halllmark character for the batfam #but the time gap is what made it such a shocking reveal.that's what made it stick.#and i don't think that's bad #i do love him a lot #i just wish dc like. committed to anyhting to do with him.#this was a very fun convo ty anon!#i agree with just about everything you said #jason is just so interesting to think about and analyze #i lvoe fandom wank.

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doomalade · 10 months ago

Text

Hi, I’m back from watching the first episode of Hazbin Hotel, here are my thoughts on it.

But first, here is the swear counter:

Fuck - 22

Shit - 12

Bitch - 5

Damn -

Ass - 2

Cock/Dick - 5

Porn/Sex - 6

Tits/Boobs - 2

Pussy/Vagina/ Cunt - 2

Spoilers under the break.

The Good/ Things I Enjoyed:

Vaggie, Alastor, Charlie, Husk, and Nifty all have pretty good voice acting.

The two that stand out to me as my favorites are Husk and Nifty. Husk sounds well husky. It sounds like he smokes or used to smoke and there’s this gritty gruff to it. It really fits his character well. Like if you had to ask me what the voice of a bar tender gambling winged cat demon was? That is it.

Nifty’s voice acting also hits that sweet spot with her character where it sounds small like a balloon or squeaky toy but also small like a needle or a switch blade if that makes sense.

Overall I love Nifty so much. The gag of her freezing up when Vaggie tries to film her was great. Having it happen twice hit that joke sweet spot of letting it set in and be executed without over staying. It also fits her character well since she’s a little bit weird (such a blorbo) and I would like to headcanon that since she was summoned by Alastor, she kinda shares his distaste for video.

Also I am deeply hoping to hear more Spanish be spoken by Vaggie. Both the upset Spanish ranting and her sweetly singing to Charlie in Spanish. Imagine Charlie singing back also in Spanish. Would be neat I think.

The other two things was the Helluva reference on the side of a van and a Travis cameo. That was neat, adding some consistency to the world.

The Bad / Things I Didn’t Like:

Idk if it was just me but at least at the start, the animation looked choppy when Vaggie and Charlie were speaking at first. But for the rest of the episode it was pretty alright. Certainly doesn’t feel like a professional production level but that is what you get when you pay people slave wages Viv. I do hope that the animators can take some pride in their work, especially the more fluent movements during the songs.

Speaking of songs, Happy Day In Hell is alright. Nothing stand out but it’s good.

Adam’s song meanwhile. Ugh. Not fully committing to the rock/punk, still being another generic pop song, and overall adds onto my issues with Adam as a character and the whole “THE ANGELS ASCTHUCALLY BAD YOU GUYS” thing is, ugh.

It boils down to:

1) If Heaven is also as bad as Hell, why even bother with redemption?

2) Is it just the Exterminators who are corrupt? Also several demons were killed while Charlie sang so like what makes the Exterminations so bad if a second death is constantly happening casually?

3) Why do any of the Exterminators follow Adam? Also Adam has been written as a hand holder for the audience so you know who to hate (he got Stella’d).

4) I see how Viv is trying to tackle the issues of the patriarchy and misogyny in this but like, does she think that redeems her from how she’s handled Helluva Boss? (Once more, Stella.)

On the topic of male characters, who is Alastor anymore? He used to be smug and commanding and set up as a manipulative deal maker that doesn’t really care for the well being of others and now he just kinda walks around mocking Vaggie and Charlie? Idk just feels like Alastor is being added on top of the list of characters (which is like everyone but Vaggie) that don’t believe in Charlie to manage redemption.

Do wish for more spooky moments with him though.

Now onto Angel.

Why does his voice sound like a deflated worm out balloon? It caught me so off guard and it’s just nails on a chalkboard for me.

And the sex jokes, two of which stuck out to me as “can you not?”

“This body was made to be exploited” by Angel. I don’t think I have to explain why having your SA character say that line out loud and frame it as a humorous comment is a good look. Classic Viv moment.

“I like being forced” by Nifty. Yes, what a great line to have given to the small, child appearing character. It felt so forced and pushed outside of Nifty’s usual weirdness too.

Also dare I forget how Amazon had this marked as 15+ (I believe) before changing it to 18+. Which good catch there guys cause during Charlie’s song, we get a quick scene of two demons fucking.

Not saying that scene was quite as offensive as it was just boring middle schooler level humor like Alastor’s ad having a toilet joke in it and Blitzø like drawings/notes at the end.

What did manage to give me the ick was how Nifty and Angel kept hitting on Husk. Nifty not as much, but Angel was just down right creepy. Husk himself states that he is at the hotel against his will (whole new can of worms there) and now Angel is hitting on him and making constant unwanted advances?

But with that we’re meant to clap and ship away but then we jump cut to Adam calling Charlie “babe” over and over and we’re meant to boo? Which direction are we going with this Viv?

One last thing, I knew that Brandon as Katie would sound horrible but I got jumpscared by Tom’s ye ye ass quality voice.

I would give it a 3/10 maybe a 4/10

Just not worth it man

#doom.txt #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin critical #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel spoilers

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ravenwitch45 · 2 years ago

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Hey! I’ve been obsessed with Crimson since the latest HB episode dropped and I’ve been reading all the x readers I can find and I just found your page. Could I request Hcs for a lonely/outcast s/o please :))? Thanks so much!

I truly did not expect such love for this guy but glad you like my stuff. Sure thing! Coming Right Up!

Crimson with an SO who's an Outcast/Lonely a lot of the time.

Hell was Hell, so of course it had it's fair share of outcasts that were ostracized for usually bullshit reasons. And to some Crimson could be seen as one, being an Imp and all.

While the disrespect was annoying Crimson saw the ways he could use it. Outcasts were more vulnerable and often bitter, perfect as recruits and otherwise as long as they stuck to their buisness, he'd stick to his.

So when one of these so called outcasts stomped into his office so quickly even his guards were caught off guard. And so was he.

You weren't armed so he gave you the time of day to listen why you were here, as he was honestly curious. Turns out you were a friend of one of his men, and came here to inquire of his whereabouts after not hearing anything for a few days.

Unfortunately he had perished in a shootout, and Crimson gave you the half truth of him being killed while working as security, a ruse he often used when outsiders inquired into his buisness.

This essentially gave him a front row seat to you breaking down and blowing up, ranting at him for not informing his loved ones, info of your friends burial and the like and particularly yelling at him for not even showing any emotion when telling you that your late friend, who was pratically all you had was gone forever.

Usually he would have anyone who got testy with him dragged away but he called his guards off, explaining to himself that it as too much effort when you knew nothing, but internally impressed with your attitude and bravado for berating him in his own home.

Eventually the angry ranting turned more to lament over your loss, and you took your leave, wiping tears out of your eyes as you walked out.

Over the next few weeks Crimson found himself oddly thinking of you, and no matter what he tried, his mind wandered to the memory of your short encounter, to the point he would daydream while he was supposed to be working.

He reluctantly decided to try to get some closure (Why he needed it, only Mammon knows why.) SO he found you, which was easy in his line of work and decided to surprise you.

Well imagine your surprise finding that guy you yelled at at your door with a bouquet of black roses as an apolgy.

He admitted that he could have handled the whole thing better, and should have taken feelings into consideration. Your suspicous, but with little energy you let him inside, taking the roses, fondling the dark petals somberly.

He notes how much your late friend must have meant to you, you explaining that he had been the only one to stand by you no matter what, even after your family disowned you and such.

Crimson briefly thinks of his own family but his attention is drawn back to you when you say your all alone now, admitting how much a mess you have been ever since your mourning began, trouble sleeping, eating and exercising. Noone stopping you as you haven't seen another soul since you first spoke with Crimson

And all that makes Crimson make the most spontaneous decision he has in years. Offering you to stay with him, internally cursing as he assures you'll be cared for.

Your even more supiscous now, but with little in way of better idea or prior engagements, you'll say you'll try it if it's free.

So you start living with him, Crimson always making sure someone is with you as you peruse the Manor, Your given room and bath being your only real privacy but you don't mind, it's nice to feel like someone is looking out for you again.

Crimson despite being often busy, tries to see you every day to check how your faring under his hospitality. Happy your doing better, looking better as your sleeping better again too.

Eventually, long after you could really call your stay a trial run, you ask him why he took in essentially a stranger. He for once gives you the whole truth, that it was multiple reasons he's come to realize, he felt bad for you, feeling partially responsible for your plight, and admitting part of it was that you just seemed interesting to him.

You tease him on what kind of interest it was, earning a blush and making him stammer, before fully silencing him with a peck to the cheek.

While you don't feel alone anymore, you wouldn't mind 'being alone with him' in your room in the evening, which he is very much down for, whatever you mean by that.

I am SO sorry that this turned out so long! XP I just had an idea and it just turned out long to get all I wanted into this. Either way I hope you enjoyed it, can't believe I've done four of these now XD

#ask reply #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #helluva crimson #helluva crimson x reader #helluva boss x reader #x reader #I'll get to more stuff tommorrow XP

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guybitesatgames · 9 months ago

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A Primer/Refresher on Celia (and why the TMA listeners are freaking out)

Below the cut, I've written up a little synopsis of all Celia's appearances in The Magnus Archives, for those who are just joining during The Magnus Protocol and want a little background context. There will be HEAVY spoilers for TMA season 5, so if you don't know what happens as of episode 160 generally, and episodes 190-194 specifically, and want to remain unspoiled, steer clear.

After that, I will be discussing her appearances in TMAGP 06 and 07, so spoilers there as well.

Following the summaries, I have a few theories about the Celia we're seeing in Protocol, based on a few extrapolations from TMA Celia.

Celia's first appearance was in MAG 100 - You Had to Be There, where she was going by the name Lynne Hammond. She showed up to the Archives to give a statement about a flaming ghost that would visit her at night up until she moved apartments. The details were… lackluster, because she was giving the statement to Martin. Normally the Archivist's powers grant the statement-givers a better recollection for the event and some amount of verbosity, but Martin's no Archivist. She came to give her statement not because she was particularly perturbed, but because according to a friend, the Institute compensated people for their stories.* She left without having met John.

We next see her after the Eyepocalypse in MAG 190 - Scavengers, where she is a member of Georgie and Melanie's cult. She was rescued from a domain of terror by Georgie and Melanie, but not before the domain took her name, so she goes by Celia now.

Celia seems head-over-heels about G/M, very well attuned to their likes/dislikes, and is first to notice and alert them to the appearance of a tape recorder. She's eager to hear how G/M rescued John and Martin, but they put it off. Georgie and Melanie perpetuate the idea that John and Martin are prophets like them in front of another follower, Arun, but it's unclear whether Celia is present in that scene. I assume the info gets around.

In 191 - What We Lose, John and Martin talk about Celia and confirm that it seems like she doesn't recognize them. She never met John, so that makes sense, but she did give her statement to Martin, and he remembers her and her former name (and doesn't even tell her, rude).

In 194 - Parting, Celia is the one to alert John to the fact that Martin left with Annabelle, but we don't get much other characterization for her, and that's the last we hear of her in TMA.

Now, in Protocol, we're meeting Celia again -as Celia-, not as Lynne Hammond. So far we can't know whether this is meant to be the same person as the one in TMA, but we do know they share the name and are both voiced by Lowri Ann Davies. In the two episodes we've had her, TMAGP Celia has said some suspicious things.

In TMAGP 06, we get this allusion:

Back in the cult, the reason Georgie was able to survive The Horrors unharmed was that she was biologically immune to fear. Now, there was nothing indicating she could grant that power to others, but this line could be a callback to that.

Failing that, we know that Lena's interview requires that the applicant has seen something terrible, that no one would ever believe, and Celia even remarks upon it to Sam and Alice. So even if this isn't TMA Celia, this is a Celia who has seen something.

In TMAGP 07 - Give and Take, she starts hunting around more directly.

"Buried alive or meat" seems pretty specific for someone who doesn't have reason to know about the Buried or the Flesh, but let's come back to that later.⸸

After "Chester" reads out the case, Celia is audibly shaken. Notably, it doesn't seem like the Too Close I Cannot Breathe aspect of the story bothered her (which might have made sense given the "buried alive" quote). It was the voice that read it.

This one throwaway line‡ really stuck out (as I'm sure it was intended to).

It COULD just be an easter egg for all the TMA girlies. But it could ALSO be...

Theories

-Is this Celia the same one from TMA?

I think there's an argument for "no", for two specific reasons. First, that Celia was not well versed in either fear cosmology or The Magnus Institute. Remember, going back to our first *, she'd only visited there originally because she thought she could sell her ghost story - the one she seemed utterly disinterested in. Post-change, she doesn't even seem to remember giving a statement - the appearance of a tape recorder doesn't trigger a memory of the Institute, nor does she recognize Martin.

Second, we have this exchange:

Post-change, Celia hung on the words of Georgie and Melanie. They named the Archivist as a prophet, a nightmare strider like them, and shortly after he left the cult, the Eyepocalypse ended. Even if she didn't believe he was the reason it ended, "unimportant" doesn't strike me as the go-to adjective, even if she's lying to Alice.

-Then who is this Celia?

⸸ This Celia is someone who may be familiar with Smirke's 14 fears categorization.

‡This Celia may have direct, remembered experience with the Magnus Institute's filing system (which TMA Celia did not seem to have).

I think this Celia has worked with an organization dealing with the supernatural - possibly the Magnus Institute itself - before.

Wild Stretching - One Possibility

Let's make a bunch of assumptions. We know there's a multiverse situation and that people can be pulled from one continuity to another without obvious cause (see the case of Anya Villette in MAG 114: Cracked Foundation). Might it be that Celia came from not the TMAGP continuity, nor the TMA continuity, but one we haven't seen? One where John was unimportant, just another researcher? If she's hung up on "being buried alive or meat or whatever", maybe she was an aide of Gertrude's and witness to The Last Feast. I'm connecting too many dots there, but it's for illustrative purposes rather than a firm belief.

I think this Celia has been displaced from a continuity where she had more than just hapless-bystander-level involvement with the supernatural, and I'm willing to bet there is a reason she's not using the name Lynne Hammond.

#long post #feel free to skip to Theories if you're otherwise caught up #celia tmagp #celia ripley #Lynne Hammond #tma #the magnus archives #tma spoilers #tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #tmagp theory #tmagp celia #magpod

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