#they would respect all of the characters THEY made

[angelltheninth]

Arcane Characters That Are Big of Heart and Dumb of Ass

Pairing: Vi, Sevika, Vander, Jayce, Loris, Ambessa x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, dating, flirting, cuddles, kissing, sparing, muscles, protectiveness

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: This came to me today during my work break. I love himbos and whatever the female version of it is!

PURE OF HEART: She will do anything, put herself in any kind of danger to protect you. Vi is ready to get into a fight with anyone, stand up to anyone if they're bothering you. The bruises might be there after but she knows you'll help her get patched up. Depending on where the bruises are she might get some kisses.

DUMB OF ASS: Charges head first into any situation and that more often than not gets her hurt. One would think she learned to use hear head a bit more by now. And just in terms of headbutting her opponent. However she defends her attitude by saying that she's the muscle here, so you should let her take care of things her way.

PURE OF HEART: First of all she doesn't want anyone knowing she has a soft spot for you. She is very aggressive in her flirting both in public and in private but when you're up close, in her lap she will whisper sweet nothings into your ear. After which she will bite it. Don't blame her, she has an image to uphold.

DUMB OF ASS: Sevika has always been a badass in Zaun, but not for her brains. As respected as she is some also see her as a glorified bodyguard that's now dating her boss's cute secretary. She hears these rumors of course but they don't phase her when she's had a few shots of her favorite drink. Not her best moment.

PURE OF HEART: He is a family man to the bone. And he sees you as his wife even though you're not officially married yet. It won't stop him from grabbing you around the hips and pulling you into a kiss, his tongue tasting of tabaco and your favorite drink. Yes, your favorite, because he wants to taste good when he kisses you.

DUMB OF ASS: While Vander might be one of the de facto leaders in Zaun he's made his fair share of dumb choices. He's forgotten to lock up more than once, leading to the people thinking the bar open and he walked out in his underwear. What made it more embarrassing is that you were right behind him, wearing just his shirt.

PURE OF HEART: Everyone who met Jayce even once can see that he has a heart of gold. There isn't a challenge he won't try to take out, be it with brains or brawn. Knowing he's smart hasn't stopped you from visiting him a few times in the forge and appreciating the way the sweat rolls down his muscled body. He even flexes for you.

DUMB OF ASS: The amount of times he accidentally burned himself because he was too busy making out with you is astounding. He picks you up easily enough. But then backs up a bit too much, touching or stepping too close to the heat of the forge. Either that or he knocks important tools down when he places you on his table.

PURE OF HEART: No one's got your back like Loris has your back. He's is one of the most supportive boyfriends you could ask for, husband material really. Whenever he notices you're having a bad day he will beckon you over and scoop you into his big arms. You're not getting away from him or his cuddles until you feel better.

DUMB OF ASS: Among the Enforcers he has always been known as the muscle, and as more than a bit of drinker. But he also tells the best stories. He can be a little crude sometimes, flirting with you and forgetting there are other people in the room. The next morning everyone is smirking at him and he has no idea why.

PURE OF HEART: Ambessa will crush anyone who has anything bad to say about her, her family, or anyone in her army. Her strength is in her physique, strategy and loyalty of her people. But on occasion she can show her softer side, when it's just the two of you. It's one of her weaknesses, that cute smile of yours that she would do anything for.

DUMB OF ASS: One of her favorite ways to flirt, and have foreplay, is to spar with you. However that tends to attract more than a few eyes. She always acts insanely possessive over you in those moments, her head still in the fight but also getting in between you and her soldiers. it ends up looking a bit like a dance, much to everyone's amusement.

[burningembers91]

Rare - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature

On Display

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Crime of Passion

Synopsis: The Salesman wants to play a game with you. But when he changes the rules, so do you

A/N: I am immensely proud of this series. It’s unlike anything I’ve written before and I love exploring the darker sides of characters. This particular fic is probably my favourite so far. I wanted to thank everyone for the frankly mind boggling love I have received on all my fics so far. Thank you ❤️

It had been two weeks since your mysterious man in the grey suit had saved you. Two weeks since you’d given in to your desires. The day after he fucked you so hard that your bed slats broke, an entirely new bed arrived. One with a plush, cream, fabric headboard and a mattress that felt like you were sleeping on a cloud sent straight from heaven.

His heroics in the alleyway, the transition from something psychological to physical had changed the dynamics of your relationship. He didn’t want to admit it, but he could feel himself falling under your spell. It was a constant struggle to maintain the upper hand, to continue the illusion that you were entirely at his mercy. But you both knew it was a mutual torture, that each of you had the other twisted so deliciously around your respective fingers. The other night he had come so close to telling you his name. It had been so long since he’d spoken it, he wasn’t entirely sure he knew what is was anymore. But there was something about you, something deliciously dark bubbling after your soft, shea scented skin. You could be the death of him, this beautiful femme fatale. He wasn’t quite ready to relinquish control to you though; he still wanted to try and break you.

You received a phone call one day, requesting your attendance at an incredibly high end dress store in Myeong-Dong. As you made your way through the doors, the eye watering price tags made your jaw drop. You could never in a thousand lifetimes afford a dress like this; but you knew someone who could.

You were whisked into a private area, where several women with tape measures took measurements of your body. They didn’t speak to you, didn’t answer any of your questions. You were there less than five minutes, after being instructed to return to the store the next day to pick up your purchase.

“But I didn’t order anything,” you exclaimed, “can you just tell me what’s going on.”

“Our client is very discreet,” the store manager responded. “Please arrive promptly tomorrow to collect your purchase.”

You couldn’t text Mr Grey Suit to ask him what he was up to. You still weren’t privy to any personal information about him, including his phone number. He didn’t come to see you that night, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts about what he could have possibly ordered you.

The next day, you arrived at the time requested, and were once again greeted by the store manager who handed you a dress bag, with a note attached. I will see you tonight, 7pm. DO NOT LOOK IN THIS BAG UNTIL THEN. I will know if you do. You headed home, desperate to look inside the bag. You didn’t dare though, you had absolutely no doubt he would know if you took a peek.

Your grey suited man arrived at your apartment at 7pm sharp. He nodded appreciatively at your immaculate hair and makeup, cupping your chin in his hand as his eyes explored yours.

“Tonight,” he explained, “you will do exactly what I say, when I say it. If you disobey me, you will be punished. If you perform satisfactorily, you will be rewarded.”

“If I perform satisfactorily?” You scoffed. “I didn’t realise I was a circus monkey.”

He wiped his thumb along your lower lip, smearing the lipstick you’d applied not 10 minutes ago.

“You will do exactly what I say,” he growled. “Now, get dressed into the gift I gave you. And clean your face up. You have 5 minutes. Do not keep me waiting.”

You did as you were asked, presenting yourself like a piece of meat on a platter for him. He nodded approvingly, his hand trailing down the burgundy silk of the evening dress that fit you like a glove, the one he’d had made especially for you. You were a vision, an angel sent straight from heaven. He wasn’t going to tell you that though; he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction.

He took you to the most expensive restaurant in Seoul, where a private room had been set up especially. The staff were very discreet, and he’d need exactly that for what he hand in store for you tonight. You sat down opposite him at the small table, classical music quietly playing through the speakers. The room had no windows, lit only by the dimness of the candles dotted around the room.

“I took the liberty of ordering for you,” Mr Grey Suit said. “I’d expect you to eat every single bite.”

Champagne arrived, followed by oysters. You hated oysters with a fiery passion, but you forced yourself to finish every single one. You refused to show your distaste for them, refused to grimace as the slimy substance slid down your throat. Next up was steak, rare, the meat still oozing blood into to your plate, seeping into the accompanying potatoes. Your stomach turned; you hated red meat. You hadn’t eaten it since you were 10, the smell of it sending your stomach churning.

“I can’t,” you whispered, the metallic smell of the dead animals blood seeping into your nose.

“Are you disobeying me?” He asked, tutting as he tucked a linen napkin into his shirt. “I’m supposing you want to be punished then?”

“Please,” you choked, “anything but steak. I can’t, it’s the smell.”

“Stand up.” He told you. You stood to attention, ignoring the rising bile in your throat. “Come here.”

You did as you were told, your breath hitching as he pulled up your dress to your waist.

“Bend over,” he instructed. You obeyed, hearing the sound of his steak knife slide through the fabric of your lace underwear. You cried out as a sharp, swift slap was delivered to your right cheek, quickly followed by another, and then another. Each hit was harder than the last, tears streaking your face. The mixture of pleasure and pain was exquisite and yet so unbearable.

“Will you do as you’re told now?” He asked, his breath slightly ragged. You were soaking wet as you nodded, and he to resist sliding his fingers inside you. He was supposed to be punishing you after all, not giving you what you wanted.

You sat back down, the skin of your ass stinging as it made contact with the leather chair. Mascara smudged your cheeks, your face flushed. You looked down at the rare steak, then back up your mystery man. He was smiling so smugly at you; he clearly thought he’d won this little game. You smiled sweetly back, picked up your knife and fork, and sliced into the meat. You did your best to ignore the blood that seeped from it. You hardly breathed as you ate, swallowing the bile that continued to rise. A flash of anger contorted his usually handsome features; you were besting him yet again.

You proudly showed off your empty plate, sweat peppering your forehead from the immense effort. You refused to show you him how unwell you felt, choosing to down your glass of champagne to remove the metallic taste from your tongue. He begrudgingly poured you more, both of you smiling as you tried to figure out the others next move.

“What do I get then?” You finally asked, when the silence became too much.

“I’m sorry?” He said, dabbing the corner of his napkin as he surveyed you.

“You said if I did everything you asked, you’d reward me,” you reminded him.

“Ah,” he chuckled, “but you didn’t do everything I asked.”

“Yes, I did,” you snapped back. “I wore the dress, I ate the oysters and the fucking steak!” Eating that piece of meat had almost made you sick, but you’d done it. And he was reneging on his end of the bargain.

“But I had to punish you before you would eat he,” he smiled.

“And I did,” you hissed back at him, fists clenched under the table. “You can’t do this.”

“I can do whatever I want,” he whispered.

You looked him up again, his smug face looking entirely slappable in that moment.

“And so can I,” you decided. “Goodnight.” Throwing your napkin down on the table, you headed for the door.

“Wait!” His voice was desperate, panicked. He didn’t want you to leave. You stopped in your tracks, turning slowly to face him. He looked uneasy, wondering why his game wasn’t going the way he wanted.

“Fine, you sighed, “I’ll stay, but you’re going to play one of my games now.”

You fucked him on the floor of that private dining room, straddling him as you pressed the steak knife to his throat, the one he’d used to slice off your underwear. He quivered underneath you, entirely at your mercy as your slick, tight walls swallowed him again and again. He came with a strangled cry, thrusting his hips up into you as you drained every last drop of his seed.

Leaning down, you planted a single tender kiss on his lips.

“Goodnight, Mr Grey Suit,” you whispered. Standing up, you left him lying there on the cold marble floor, his cock still hard and his breathing ragged.

He had seriously underestimated you. What had started as a game of control, was now something entirely new to him. For the first time in his life, he was entirely at someone else’s mercy.

[tossawary]

I enjoyed a lot about the ending of "Dungeon Meshi" (SPOILERS) but especially its depiction of an ascension to kingship. Laois does become king kind of on a legal technicality, yeah, but it's that PLUS the backing of all of the allies he's made along the way. His claim is kind of tenuous and it's obvious that more powerful nations could probably steamroll him if they choose to violently challenge it, but that would be a big mess that no one really wants to get into right now.

It was just extremely refreshing after recently dealing with some more magical-bloodline-based and divine-right-chosen-one fantasy. Laois gets that tenuous claim to the throne because of stuff that he actually did, but the claim only really goes through because the local community allows it and supports him (not unanimously, for various reasons), ALSO because of stuff that Laios actually did to make them want to do that. Democracy is not suddenly invented because that's not really how this world works (that's not the focus of the story here), the foreign nations involved probably wouldn't respect that kind of move, but even so, monarchy isn't something that goes forward here without other people behind it and behind Laios.

Laois is Just Some Guy with a tenuous claim and a force behind him to solidify that grip to persuade everyone else to go along with it! Which is historically how a lot of "kings" have happened! And it's clear that he has and needs a lot of people around him to actually do the work of governing a country. (There does admittedly end up being a anti-monster demon curse helping Laios's position here, but that's again specific to Laios because of things he did, and that alone wouldn't cut it.) It's neat to actually see that... social balance and maintenance at the forefront of his ascension, which matches all of the ecosystem-related messages throughout the story.

I also enjoyed the fact that Laios Did Not Really Want This and that it happens partially because other characters are yelling at him to grab the opportunity to maintain their nation's crumbling independence. That was funny. He's simultaneously a person with agency, a responsible and skilled leader, and also kind of a figurehead! (But not really that last bit, I know. I mixed my meta and jokes here. Laois chooses to become king to protect the people he cares about and future he wants! He's not actually any kind of puppet ruler, it's just not something he was originally actively seeking to achieve.) It's messy and fun.

[cybrasigilism]

how dae-ho would act like if he had a crush on reader and how he’d ask them out

this is too cute! i desperately need to write for dae-ho more, he’s just such a sweetheart i fear :>

Crush Headcanons! (Player 388/Kang Dae-ho Headcanons)

warning: no smut! | lowercase intended | not proofread! | these are my headcanons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own :)

character: kang dae-ho (player 388)

A/N: this is a mix of headcanons + drabble but i hope thats alright it’s nice to take a break from smut every now and again :) i’ve got lots of dae-ho in my requests so i’ll try my best to feed you all .3. of course, i hope you enjoy!

   ────  ☽⃝ ────

⟢ the moment he first took notice of you as everyone was getting their photos taken for the games, he was completely starstruck. from that point forward, dae-ho found his eyes being drawn to you wherever you guys were

⟢ he felt a new sense of urgency to make sure you lived throughout these games, after red light green light he made a vow with himself to ensure you were protected at all costs. he was quick to introduce himself post the first game, and you guys were fast friends.

⟢ he’s not the type to be insecure or jealous when he sees you interacting with the other men inbetween games. there was few men you did talk to anyways, seeing as most of them either got on your nerves or intimidated you way too much. however, he did find himself a tiny bit jealous when he saw how easily you got along with the other guys in his group

⟢ you didn’t end up making it on dae-ho’s team for the six legged pentathlon, but he did his best to calm your nerves before the game started up. he promised he would cheer you on and that he definitely did. he definitely lit up when you ran up to him afterwards, going on about how worried you were about him after you left

⟢ he 100% would share his food with you, especially if he noticed you were particularly shaken up after a game

⟢ adding onto the last piece, dae-ho will also definitely try to cheer you up after the games

⟢ i think he would definitely hold off on asking you out, especially during such a high stakes situation as the squid games. at some point later on, when you guys are closer, you two will promise to see more of each other once the games are finished.

⟢ although dae-ho certainly isn’t one to start a fight, he will put himself between you and any unruly players who try to start something with you. he doesn’t have any trouble putting someone in their place if he feels you would be in any sort of danger

⟢ insisted that you slept with his group during lights out, so he could watch over you and be certain on your safety when you were sleeping

⟢ 100% hugs you tightly after the mingle game, especially if you two got separated. you could tell he didn’t want to let you go at this point, as he was definitely worried that you didn’t make it into a group before the time ran out

⟢ will for sure ask you all about your life before the games, and even about what you’ll do with the prize money when you guys get out

────  ☽⃝ ────

apologies for the less headcanons this time around! i saw more opportunities for small drabbles between the headcanons and i had to seize it! i had a lot of fun writing this out, and i hope you guys all had just as much fun reading it! as always any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested

have a splendid day lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @agorsnotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @pink-apples001 @wonestro @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet

[thewadapan]

Maybe Nost's best story! Also his least fun. Definitely did not like reading most of it. Would recommend reading... maybe any of the others over this one?

I think with The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen, Nost has managed to write a book which is haunted.

Stepping back a little. Herschel Schoen seems to have been conceived almost as a short story, which only happens to be as long as it is as a result of the (deliberately) belaboured and verbose prose used by all the narrators. It's much closer to The Northern Caves in this respect, which I remember as being mostly straightforward and intelligible, with only the highly-divisive ending leaving me with a dangling "??????" to grapple with. Meanwhile, with Floornight and Almost Nowhere, I often struggled to keep up with the object-level facts of what was even happening in the plot/world, and I feel like I mostly read those stories "on vibes", following them mostly in terms of their subtext.

So yeah, Herschel Schoen to me felt like it was using the "fairytale" format of being a Christmas story to streamline things as much as possible, such that both the object-level events of the story and the batshit conceptual-melting-pot subtext were more or less legible to me, despite Herschel's incredibly unreliable prose. There is a sense in which it feels like a children's story to me. It has very few characters, and those characters are extraordinarily archetypal.

So I do think Almost Nowhere retains its crown as Nost's most ambitious, most revolutionary, and most complex novel—if I say that I found Herschel Schoen "better", it's only because I feel I was able to understand it. It speaks more to my failure as a reader than anything.

In terms of my experience as a reader, it was fairly similar to that described by @recordcrash in his review. Most of the story is a fucking struggle to get through, mostly because of... the prose? The pacing? These issues are really the same issue: what few events occur in the book take ages to describe, and the fact that every recounting takes forever means that there physically isn't room to cram in more events. And as Makin Recordcrash puts it: I just don't enjoy hearing the thoughts of an unwell mind, particularly at length. All of Nost's books have it, this entirely-made-up concept which "you just wouldn't understand" but which it nevertheless will tell you about at length. There's Salby and mundum in The Northern Caves, there's Azad and the aliens in Almost Nowhere, there's whatever the metaphysics shit was in Floornight (I forgor), and this is the book that has the most of it, proportionally.

(My girlfriend bounced right off it- actually, let me use this opportunity to tell a story. When we first met, we were talking about the internet or something, and for whatever reason at one point I unironically said something like "oh yeah I read this cool novel set on a forum but you probably wouldn't have heard of it" and she just went "oh do you mean The Northern Caves?" and I briefly became convinced that she was some sort of psyop intended to oneshot me, a notion I have still not been able to shake over two years later. Point is her remark on the first two chapters of Herschel Schoen was something like "it's too Nostalgebraist for me", which I think is understandable.)

Anyway, like Makin, I struggled with most of the book, only for Chapter 21 to be so fucking good that it sort of retroactively made the rest of the book good, at least insofar as it was mostly necessary to set up such an audacious ending? Even knowing that this had been Makin's reaction, I wasn't prepared to believe it—again, usually Nost books are very much the other way around—but lo and behold, the twist is in fact very clever, very fun to read, and very aligned with my aesthetic interests.

All that said, I do feel like Makin sort of bombed through the book (by comparison, it's taken me almost two weeks to finish it), and maybe missed out on some of the more fun and interesting stuff the book is doing on a thematic level. Below, I'll try to delve into my interpretations in more detail.

I've seen a few takes from people that the main thematic throughlines of this book are a bit disconnected from one another, but to me this couldn't be further from the truth.

I identified four main themes, in descending order of prominence: "neurodivergence", "AI", "media", and "capitalism". I guess you could say "Christmas" is something of a fifth ur-theme, which dovetails into these in superficial ways:

Neurodivergence—the idea of "believing in Santa Claus" is framed as stunted development, a delusion which reveals someone to be less mature mentally than they are physically. The book is specifically concerned with contrasting dysfunctional "child" behaviour with functional "adult" behaviour, flipping these ideas on their head by having Ruth and Miriam basically lose it over the course of the story. A sister inverted. Also, the "preparations" needed to be made before Christmas morning are very much analogised with obsessive compulsions, right?

AI—like Santa Claus, something which promises to fulfil all our wishes, instantly, at the same time.

Media—particularly in terms of relations between Christianity and... secular Christmas, right? The story is very much riffing on the structure of Christmas stories specifically. To me, it feels like a world literally dreamed up based on Christmas stories. That, more than anything, is why it's set in New York, I think.

Capitalism—notions of "wanting", of meritocracy. I don't know, we all know "A Christmas Carol", I don't need to explain this one.

Like, if I had to guess at the genesis of this book, based on Nostalgebraist's comments, I feel like it's taking the starting point of "story about what if the AI doomers were right" -> "through the lens of Christmas" -> "[everything else in the story]". Of course there are tons of other influences in there, but those to me feel like the two ideas with the most explanatory power.

But even if you discount the underlying idea "Christmas", I don't think you could tell a good story about AI (in its current form) without writing about neurodivergence, media, or capitalism. If we're tasked with imagining a non-human mind, it makes sense to first imagine the most-non-human human mind, right? If we're talking about the machine's output, its facsimile of media, we have to talk about the real thing too, right? And if we're asking about the purpose of AI, what exactly it is we're trying to industrialise, what scarcity we are trying to erase, then we have to talk about capitalism as well! For me this was all perfectly obvious, I dunno.

I was pleased that I noticed many of the same things @weaselandfriends identified in his list of observations on the book. When it described the wall of doors in the living room, my mind went, "that's fucking weird!", though I didn't really think too deeply about it. The same things goes for all the anachronisms, which I think is one of the story's best gimmicks. Yes, for most of the story, they serve to create a "timeless" atmosphere, evoking all these Christmas stories at once, while simultaneously putting into doubt the reality of what Herschel and Miriam are describing.

But then, of course, with the twist, I think it's pretty hard not to read these as anything other than hallucinations conjured by the AI. And what I think is particularly brilliant is that the story at no point calls direct attention to the anachronisms as being of particular significance—you only notice them because you know enough "facts" about the real world to notice them—which naturally calls into question the elements of the story which are wholly ficticious, where there's no ground truth to compare against. Just how real are Herschel, Miriam, Ruth, anyone!? And does it even matter how real they are?

Part of the book's "magic trick", as I read it, is that both interpretations of Herschel's POV are able to coexist within the reality of the story. We can imagine that there really existed a boy perhaps called Herschel Schoen (just as we can imagine there really existed a guy called Jesus? This is silly, pretend I didn't say that) who perhaps lived in New York City and lived with some kind of delusion, perhaps regarding an Original Creation that only babies remember. Like, even this much isn't certain, perhaps Herschel is entirely hallucinated; the story is in fact preoccupied with the question of whether or not there's even any difference. Anyway, at some point, the AI apocalypse happens (I think this is one thing we can be pretty confident about), and for the AI's own purposes, Herschel is resurrected/recreated (again like Christ- disregard this aside!) in an "emended" form, where whatever changes are made mean that he is in fact right about the Original Creation and the future etc, his mind really was tampered with. The concept of "emendation" seems to me to be the biggest point in favour of the book overall believing that a substitution is not the same as the original; that the "transformation" of one shape into another does not mean it becomes the other, as its own history remains distinct (much as the "original" events of whatever happened to the "original" Herschel on the "original" Christmas Day can be said to have, in some sense, happened—and cannot, should not, be "forgotten"). But maybe these elements of the story were intended to be disparate, though, or related in some other way, and I'm just conflating them?

One of my favourite interpretations that I've seen raised in a couple of places is that Herschel's writings, with which he literally armours himself, are in fact literally protecting him against oblivion, because the AI can only learn based on the written word or recorded speech. It doesn't really matter what happens to the papers, so long as they are written at all. Herschel pours so much of himself into those papers so as to be understood, and in the end he is understood—if not by Miriam and Ruth, then by the only being he needs to be understood by: this machine. He secures his own existence, in at least some limited form, in the "Original Creation", simply through his writing. I think Herschel is the "most real" part of the story.

It's Miriam, though—the second-"most real" element—that I think makes this story haunted. It's the way she packs all those papers into a suitcase, and for the briefest of moments you can breathe a sigh of relief, that we're one step closer to understanding how this book came to be, in-universe. But immediately, it's obvious that this explains nothing, it explains less than nothing, because there are all these chapters which just don't fit, they can't be neatly contained in that suitcase. Bavitz draws direct parallels between the inexplicable frame narrative and the anachronisms, and he's absolutely right to do so. The story is often very careful about providing something which looks "quite right", at a glance, but the moment you think about it, this pit opens up under you. Something about this metatextual conceit actually makes my skin crawl.

It feels pat to say, "oh, that's because it's trying to evoke AI hallucinations". I feel like that's only part of it, because again, most of Nost's novels have this to some extent. But yeah, I think if you wanna read Herschel Schoen as a horror novel, then this is what is scary about it. Conceptually, everything with Miriam mainly recalls for me the idea of "crashes" from Almost Nowhere, which were one of the big horror elements there, the idea that the world you're walking around in is actually, imperceptibly, some kind of not-world filled with not-people. But more directly, I find myself remembering a bit from the third act of OCTO (a criminally underrated and under-discussed webnovel) where a superintelligence is trying to "resurrect" a human, and keeps putting her in increasingly-lifelike simulated "habitats" to try and create the right set of "inputs" that will make her function properly—i.e., without just like, screaming. I feel like that is what we see happen to Miriam in this book. I feel like, when the lights go out, at the end, it has nothing to do with light at all: it's more that the machine just no longer needs to simulate a world for Miriam, at all. The transmission stops. And then what becomes of her?

I think this sort of brings us to Ruth, doesn't it? A big point is made about how there's a difference between "Miriam" and "my sister, Miriam". As though in the latter, the reality of "Miriam" in the training data is watered down by all these tropes surrounding sisterhood. I mean, fuck, maybe that's where the incest stuff comes from, right? I feel like similarly, there's a reading for Ruth where the AI is first conflating these images of "a mother" with these images of "a terrorist". She acts like a fucking cartoon character for much of the book, as many of the less-well-drawn characters do, and I think that's entirely deliberate. As she draws more on the "terrorist" tropes, she stops being a "mother". And again I think this is what Nostalgebraist has always done so fucking well, in that the bullshit sci-fi allegory stuff can also just be read on an entirely character-driven level: here is a resentful, neglectful, ultimately abusive mother, here's the emotional reality of that, heightened and communicated.

I think this provides a vague stab at an explanation for the beating scene that Bavitz found so confusing. It's like the AI draws on this trope of like... the mother, in the kitchen, with the frying pan. It puts the pan in her hand. But it's not actually a frying pan, it's just the image of a frying pan. In reality, did Herschel's mother beat him? How did she beat him? Hell, maybe she didn't, maybe the AI just got so caught up in playing out the trope of the abusive parent that is gets to the point of this beating, and then just dream-logics itself to the next thing in its training data, where of course the beating never happened. I don't like that, it feels like we're gaslighting the kids here (which I think is very much the allegory intended) by saying it was just a hallucination. I think something like it happened in reality, and cannot, should not, be "forgotten". But I think the book does want you to think that its depiction does, in some way, break from reality. Hell, in much the same way that child abuse might be said to break the reality of family? Nah, that's too pat, isn't it?

I guess what I'm trying to get at here is that, ironically, I found the novel was at its best, and at its most human, when it was writing frankly about the experience of mental illness, about family, about institutions, about childhood. So what's maybe frustrating is that I'm not actually convinced Nost is capable of writing a... shall we call it a "normal" story about those things? A story with no metatextual bullshit, no sci-fi conceit, but a realist story. There are parts of all his books, where I really think that the explanation for why they are the way they are is that they are "bad on purpose", and all the bullshit is a way of turning these shortcomings into strengths. The self-effacing voice which whispers that the characters aren't sufficiently well-drawn, are too cartoonish—well, what if that was the point? What if there was a reason for that, in the story?

But honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. Straightup, if these were normal stories set in reality, I wouldn't be fucking reading them. This is a web author who's trained himself on a bunch of classic lit, and a bunch of anime or whatever, and has smooshed those influences together and rocket-fuelled the result. It's inimitable. I deeply admire just how experimental Nostalgebraist's writing is. No-one else is doing it like him.

Anyway, what else. Herschel gets described as having a "shell" at various points, and Frederick's surname is "Eggert". Is that anything?

The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen

My fourth novel, The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen, is now available in full.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

[tiredandoptimistic]

What I think works so well about Clary and Isabelle's friendship is that they're very similar people, but they present themselves just differently enough to appear alien to each other. Both of them were the only girls in a group of boys (Isabelle was raised more or less isolated with Alec and Jace, while Clary doesn't seem to have any friends other than Simon and to a lesser extent his band), and they responded to this in very different ways. Isabelle basically committed herself to her role of "the girl" and always performs extreme femininity, while Clary attempts to sink into the background as "one of the guys." Both of these behaviors can be seen as rebellions against their culture. Isabelle comes from the very misogynist world of Shadowhunters, where women are respected as warriors but expected to act in a masculine way in order to earn that respect. She rejects this, and proves her place as a brilliant fighter while maintaining her fun and glossy feminine traits (compare her with Jessamine Lovelace, who was seen as silly and frivolous for her feminine interests). Clary on the other hand is a child of the nineties growing up in NYC. As a teenage girl in the early 2000s, she would have been surrounded by "not like other girls" philosophy, and hyperfemininity would be both pushed on her and demonized in popular culture. Because of all the pressure placed on gender roles and her lack of connection with other girls her age, it's no surprise that Clary would develop a certain bitterness towards people who perform gender in a way she won't.

With all of that out of the way, we get two teenage girls who have no fucking clue how to handle each other. They're both jealous of how the other one fits in with the guys in a way they can't. Obviously any friend group is made up of friendships which fit together in unique ways, but Clary and Isabelle both see themselves as The Girl, and thus are worried that the other one will make them redundant (Clary gets along with Jace, so will he still need Isabelle? Isabelle and Simon are getting along, will this take away Clary's place as Simon's most important person?) Of course this isn't something that will actually ruin their friendships, but Clary and Isabelle don't know that. Instead they need to learn how to engage with each other, and I enjoy that TMI actually shows them having those conversations. They're trying, but it doesn't all happen at once. Clary still has bitter thoughts about Isabelle's femininity, and she also looks down on other girls like Maia.

Speaking of Maia, there's a really good moment in COA where Clary starts grumbling to herself about how unfair it is that a werewolf can be pretty, and that Maia should be gross and hairy. She then catches herself, and literally thinks "this is exactly why I don't have any female friends," showing that thanks to Isabelle she's learning to recognize her internalized misogyny. She can hang out with other pretty girls, and it doesn't decrease her value as a person.

It's just so nice seeing a character whose internalized misogyny is actively acknowledged by the narrative and treated as a flaw she must overcome. So many female protagonists in the early 2000s (and other decades) had the hyper-femme "best friend" who they hated, but even though that's how Clary sees Izzy at first, she's able to look past it and see the ways they click together. The two of them don't become besties immediately, but they're at least able to get past that first layer of hostility.

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 11]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.1K

Chapter warning(s): Mentions of sleeping pills.

As the sun was starting to set, you called it a day. You didn't want to do too much and make a big mess, plus there were things you needed that you didn't have with you. After washing your hands, you caught sight of a maid bringing a broom out to the garden.

"Let me help you!" You ran forward to her. You didn't notice that there were people in the living room.

"No need, miss. I can do it. Don't worry." The maid smiled, shaking her head when you tried to take the broom from her. She walked out with you behind her.

"Ah... but I created the mess, the least I can do is help you clean it up." You insisted.

"(y/n)." Hongjoong called you, distracting you momentarily.

"If you're done, I would like to speak with you." He spoke. You looked at the maid, who was sweeping up the dirt and soil on the stone pavements, the mess you made.

"I'm sorry for creating the mess. Thanks again." You said to the maid with an apologetic smile. She shook her head and bowed as you left.

"Yes, Hongjoong?" You blinked as you re-entered the house. Now, you saw all 7 of Hongjoong's brothers in the living room, spread across the arm chairs and sofas. They were all dressed so well, compared to yourself. You fiddled with your fingers awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable with all their gazes on you.

"I wanted to introduce you to my other brothers. You've briefly met at the funeral but I guess since you're going to be around a lot more, I should introduce you." Hongjoong explained.

"Oh, okay. Nice to meet all of you, I'm (y/n)." You bowed. They were basically your bosses so you had to be respectful.

"I'm Seonghwa."

"Wooyoung."

"San."

"Yeosang."

"Mingi."

"Jongho."

"You already know me, I'm Yunho. If you need anything while you're here, feel free to let us know. " The tallest boy with a charming smile sent you a friendly wave. It was a lot of names that you'll have to get used to. They seemed nice but intimidating at the same time.

"Okay, that's out of the way. Would you like to stay for dinner?" Hongjoong offered.

"Oh, thank you but I shouldn't overstay." You forced a smile, shaking your head. Honestly, you were taken aback by his invitation, you weren't expecting it at all.

"You're not overstaying." Yunho assured.

"But don't feel forced to. I'm sure you must be tired." Seonghwa stood up and headed to you. You nodded slowly.

"Let me get out driver to send you back. It's the least we could do. Get the chauffeur." Seonghwa said, raising his hand to the butler before you could protest. You grabbed your bag and bowed.

"Thank you. Have a nice evening." You said quickly and headed to the door where the butler was.

"Bye, (y/n)." Hongjoong nodded and you gave him a small, yet apologetic smile.

"You guys are cornering the poor girl. There was no way she was going to stay for dinner. She's formally meeting us for the first time and we're all seated here, staring at her. She's probably scared out of her wits." Seonghwa said to Hongjoong and Yunho the moment you left the house, rolling his eyes.

"I was just trying to be nice. Make her feel more comfortable around us." Hongjoong defended with a shrug. Seonghwa shook his head with a sigh and facepalmed.

"I don't think that's happening any time soon. She was so scared when she saw San's beat up appearance." Wooyoung said.

"That's why we need to prove to her or show her that we're... normal..." Hongjoong trailed off.

"Hyung, why are you trying to keep her close?" Yeosang tilted his head.

"I don't even know how to explain it to you guys. But at some point, I need to know about my mother and she has that information. It's the only way I can get some sort of closure." Hongjoong sighed.

"That's true." Seonghwa nodded in confirmation, supporting his best friend's decision.

"Sure but take it slow. She's nice and all but she looks like she'll be scared off easily." Mingi stated and the rest nodded.

"Can we continue this conversation while we have dinner? I'm hungry." Jongho requested. The 8 men stood up from their seats and shuffled into their dining room, the 8 of them naturally sitting in their designated seats.

"Please enjoy your dinner." The butlers and maids bowed once each of the men had their own trays of food. They then filed out of the room, only one staying behind in case any of the 8 needed anything.

"For the ball, I want everyone in black shoes. Whatever style you choose is fine but black, not white." Hongjoong announced.

"But I bought new white chelseas." San said.

"Wear them next time. And only silver or white gold hardware, no gold." The captain added, he was just that particular about the way they looked at events.

"Yes, captain." The 7 nodded obediently. After that, they gave each other little updates on their work.

"The casino should be 95% done next week and we can go for a tour then, before the grand opening." Wooyoung smiled gleefully.

"That's good. And you both have the staff trained and ready for the grand opening?" Seonghwa asked. Wooyoung and San both nodded their heads.

"The manpower has been settled. It's only 95% done because of minor things like the wrong light bulbs for the carpark. And the curtains that were ordered did not meet our expectations so we have a new batch coming in. Don't worry, everything will be perfect by opening day." San assured.

"Yes, I'm having the invites sent out this weekend." Wooyoung added. Opening night was an 'invite-only' event, as per usual.

"Alright, make sure the governor and president have theirs hand delivered." Hongjoong reminded.

"That has already been arranged. We finally decided on our investors and partners too so we'll have their invites hand delivered too." Wooyoung nodded his head.

"Good job, boys." Hongjoong praised.

"How many valets will you have there?" Mingi asked.

"Opening night will be around 5? We are expecting that the guests will be in chauffeur driven cars anyway. On the regular, we're only hiring 3." San replied.

"Sir." The chauffeur stood at the entrance way of the dining room. Hongjoong stopped the conversation and waved for him to enter.

"The miss has been sent home safely. I walked her up myself." The chauffeur informed.

"Good to hear. Thanks. You are to ensure she is picked up every time she comes to the house for work." Hongjoong nodded in approval. The chauffeur bowed to him and left the dining room. Yunho and Seonghwa raised their hands for another potion of meat as the work conversations continued.

"No other worker has ever had the privilege of being picked up by our chauffeur before, hyung." Yunho teased. Hongjoong rolled his eyes, ignoring the taller.

"Shut up and eat." Hongjoong glared.

"Defensive~" Wooyoung sang. Seonghwa sent Wooyoung a look, the younger could always dish it but not take it.

"So, now that San hyung is out of the fight club. Can I go?" Jongho raised his hand. San rolled his eyes, mumbling in disatisfcation being benched from fighting.

"I thought you didn't want to enter the ring anymore?" Mingi asked.

"Yeah but I've been training in new fight techniques I want to try." Jongho shrugged, looking expentantly at the oldest two.

"Sure, Jongho. Whatever you want to do." Hongjoong sighed, he knew he couldn't really stop them either. The boys can do whatever they want to do.

"Maybe I'll join you. Stop competing in the motorcycle races for a bit. Seonghwa hyung always beats me anyway, it's not fun anymore." Yeosang leaned back on his hands. Seonghwa smirked proudly, no one could take his titles away from him.

"You guys are too competitive." Hongjoong shook his head.

"You do know that we get it from you, right hyung?" Yunho raised an eyebrow. Hongjoong scoffed.

"They're right. You're just too busy now to do anything remotely competitive." Seonghwa added on. Hongjoong nodded in agreement but now, he had no desire to get back to competing.

"Told you to go to the race tracks with us~" Mingi sang.

"If I go tonight, will you guys stop bothering me about it?" Hongjoong asked with frustration.

"Yes!" They all replied.

"Oh, hyung. You're going DOWN!" Wooyoung declared.

After the driver walked you up to your house, despite you insisting that he didn't need to, you closed the door and immediately slumped into your couch.

"That was way too weird." You mumbled to yourself as the events of today sunk in. Looking at the time on your phone, you hauled yourself off the couch and went to cook dinner, which comprised of leftovers from the day before. You thought about how awkward it would have been if you stayed for dinner.

"Ah, damn." You were so lost in your thoughts you didn't realise that your food was close to burning.

You turned off the flame and left your food there before going to take a quick shower so your hair could dry while you ate.

'Kim Hongjoong|'

As you ate, your fingers typed on the search bar of your computer. You knew that Hongjoong and his family probably lived extravagantly, judging by their house, but you were curious.

'CEOs of AURORA Corporation makes huge donation to the new hospital wing for paediatic heart surgery.'

'CEO of AURORA Corp, Kim Hongjoong, was seen as one of guests at the grand opening of...'

'Governor seen at christmas charity auction hosted by AURORA Corp.'

There were so many articles, all linked to Hongjoong, his brothers and AURORA Corp. They seemed like a big, rich company with a lot going on.

You never got that vibe from Mrs Kim, that her son or family was this affluent. Maybe she was just good at hiding it. But it made you wonder if you really knew the real her or did she fake an image and that was the person you knew?

It pained you to think that, you thought you knew her well. She was the best mother figure you had, was it all a lie this entire time?

"Ugh, my head hurts." After your dinner, you did the dishes and closed your laptop, you didn't want to look at it anymore. You headed to the bathroom to wash up and go to bed.

"Thank you. Please come again." You bowed to the customer with a smile as you handed the lady her bouquet.

*DING*

"Mrs Kim. What are you doing here so early?" You grinned, going over to help her with her bags. She had a lunch bag in her hands with containers of food in there.

"Early? My dear, your lunch is way overdue." She clicked her tongue at you. You checked the time and realised how late it was.

"Oh no, you're right. Let me close the sign for lunch." You placed her bags on your work table and went to flip the sign.

"Tea?" You offered as you walked back to where she was seating. She nodded and you poured her a cup, placing it down in front of her as she dug through the lunch bag. She laid out all the glass containers across your work table, placing two containers of rice, one in front of you and one in front of herself.

"You're always bringing me lunch. You don't have to." You said sheepishly.

"I know. But I want to. You're already keeping me company for lunch and tea, the least I can do is provide the food." She raised an eyebrow as she sipped her tea.

"I can always keep you company, even if you don't cook. You know that, I enjoy your company too." You smiled softly.

"Ah, just eat and stop complaining, my dear." She chided.

"Eat more. I cooked a lot." She encouraged as you both dug in. The food was a good, a homecooked meal from a mother, something you never experienced before.

"These vegetables are so good." You complimented, taking some to put onto your rice.

"You are the exact opposite of my son. He doesn't like vegetables, hates it so much. Getting him to eat vegetables was like asking him to eat poison." Mrs Kim laughed behind her hands as she ate.

From that flashback dream, you sat up in bed, running your hands through your hair. Never did you think you would meet Mrs Kim's son, the one she always spoke about, without her. You let out a long, exhausted sigh and laid back down to try and go back to sleep.

"Ugh." Hongjoong woke up. He always has a hard time sleeping, his brain just doesn't think he needs any sleep.

"Every single night..." He got out of bed and headed to his office. The first thing he did was pour himself a drink, maybe the alcohol would put him to bed.

"Hyung? Why are you awake?" Wooyoung poked his head in, having seen the lights in Hongjoong's office turned on.

"You just got back?" Hongjoong asked back when he saw how well dressed Wooyoung was.

"Mhmm. Has a meeting after the race." Wooyoung smiled. He entered the captain's office, removing his jacket and draping it over the chair. He pulled his hair into a neat ponytail.

"Here." Hongjoong handed him a glass of his own.

"Thank you." Wooyoung smiled, clinking glasses with the older before they each took a sip.

"You're still having trouble sleeping?" Wooyoung asked again with a tilt of his head, going to the question from before.

"It's a norm for me now. I don't seem to need much sleep... My brain just wakes up." Hongjoong sighed. There was always so much going on in his head, it was hard for him to turn it all off. They didn't lead normal lives whereby they can just switch themselves off when the sun sets, they were always on alert.

"You should try to sleep more. Sleep deprivation isn't good for anyone, even us." Wooyoung said with raised eyebrows. Hongjoong nodded his head, he knew.

"That's why I'm hoping this will put me to sleep." He shook the crystal glass in his hand.

"Want some help?" Wooyoung asked.

"No, I suffered so much from the side effects of those things, I'll never take them again. Why do you even have those? You sleep just fine." Hongjoong asked with a small frown.

"They're not the street kind. They're legit just for sleeping or calming down, Mingi's guy got them for me." Wooyoung informed.

"Why?"

"In case of situations like this. You never know when any one of us would be plagued by nightmares." Wooyoung shrugged. Hongjoong nodded in agreement, everyone had nightmares every now and then.

It was common for them, with the horrors that they see everyday, it was normal to be haunted by some cases. Even if they look and act like they are okay with it, deep down, it still bothers them. Taking lives and spilling blood isn't a walk in the park.

"Let's get out of here. The office is stuffy." Hongjoong said. Wooyoung went to get the crystal carave with the whiskey and skipped behind Hongjoong.

"Shh, you'll wake the others up." Hongjoong shushed the younger.

"They always pass out after a race." Wooyoung waved the captain off with a mischievous grin.

"By the way, I had to rush off and didn't properly congratulate you on your win. You still got it." Wooyoung chuckled, making Hongjoong roll his eyes.

"Of course I do. You make it sound like I'm old or something." He scoffed. Hongjoong was always a good racer.

"You should do it more often then. Secure more wins for us." Wooyoung nudged him.

"I know what you're doing and nice try... I'm way too busy to be racing like you guys. And you make it sound like you guys can't win without me. Because judging by the stack of money on Hwa's dresser, I know that's not the case." Hongjoong raised an eyebrow as he drank his whiskey.

"Hwa hyung wins to motorcycle races." Wooyoung pointed out. Seonghwa doesn't like driving cars, so he has never competed in the driving races.

"I dare you to say that in front of Yunho and Jongho." Hongjoong challenged and Wooyoung gulped at the leader's words.

"Fine! Just get out of your office every now and then." Wooyoung threw his arms up in exasperation.

"I do leave my office. I'm not a hermit." Hongjoong gave Wooyoung a flat look.

"Oooh I know. There's now a motivation for you to come out of your office, especially since there's a pretty little gardener to talk to." Wooyoung sang. Hongjoong hit the back of his head.

"Shut up. I only spoke to her to make sure she felt comfortable working here." Hongjoong excused.

"Sure hyung... Sure~" Wooyoung teased.

"You're drunk." Hongjoong flicked his forehead, making the younger male yelp. Luckily it was dark or Wooyoung would have seen Hongjoong's slightly pink cheeks. He didn't think so many people would have seen him come out to talk to you today.

"She's a weird one, hyung. From what I saw." Wooyoung said, leaning against Hongjoong's shoulder, snuggling against him. Wooyoung was generally affectionate but this was a sign he was drunk.

"Not weird. Just different, she's normal." Hongjoong let out a soft sigh, pouring more whiskey into his glass.

"Are we not normal...?" Wooyoung drowned out.

"Far from, Wooyoung. We're not normal. After all that we've done, we'll never be normal. (y/n)'s normal, she doesn't know our world." Hongjoong said with dismay.

"She's not normal. Or else, how would she know your mum?" Wooyoung stated.

"Maybe my mum was normal to her." Hongjoong shrugged. Wooyoung laughed at that, sounding like he was in disbelief.

After the whiskey was emptied from the cerave, the two headed in for the night. Hongjoong had Wooyoung's arms around him, guiding him to his room and making sure he was tucked into bed. Being slightly intoxicated, Hongjoong fell flat onto his own bed. He groaned at the slight throb in his head.

"Note to self, don't drink with Wooyoung again." He mumbled to himself as he pushed himself up.

"What the..." Hongjoong felt something in his sweatpant pocket. He dug in and saw a pack of pills that were not there before, he knew Wooyoung must have secretly slipped them in.

He was good at doing that, considering how he usually does the pick pocketing or slipping of information to people secretly.

"Rainy day." He let out a long sigh and threw the sleeping pills into his drawer before getting under the covers, hoping the alcohol will help him stay asleep this time.

~

Series masterlist

[slasherflicks999]

new oc/sona yaaaaaay!

oh how i wish i had all those piercings (bridge come back to me💔)

can we guess where his name came from gang (suspiciously username shaped name)

i actually really enjoy his character design and i literally color picked his color pallet from a diagram(?) that shows how a bruise heals and it worked out LMAOO sooo new character design life hack

more info and lots of general yapping about him after the break if you care to read :3 and i yap a LOT i have lots to say about him bc its been a while since i genuinely developed an oc LMAO

cw for LOTS and LOTS of talk of death if you do decide to read! just in case :3

first of all you may be thinking “5’6? short king!” and i will have you know i actually made him taller than i am irl by a few inches LMAOOO whoops t boy swag will do that to ya

anyways the thing about his color pallet being based off of that of a literal bruise IS actually relevant because he is literally immortal and is CONSTANTLY getting injured like all the time. i think conveying info about characters via their color pallets is fun and i wanna do more of it so hehe. plus green and red and purple are a nice combo and it worked out very well :3 also another little note about his design: he’s a very creative and artistic person and i wanted to show that through his clothes being somehow modified and i think i did that well too. trying to properly get back into making actually decent and thoughtful character designs so im proud of myself :3

that being said his immortality causes him a SHIT load of problems. i feel like being immortal would really suck LMAO but more-so i feel like i dont see people do much with the idea of immortality in terms of horror or at least not from what i’ve seen. like im still figuring out his lore but the basics are: he has no clue who his dad is and found out he was immortal at a somewhat young age but literally his entire life he’s been viewed as just kind of off?? like he looks human and for the most part acts it but he just has certain traits that humans…. do not have. his eyes glow in pics like a nocturnal animal’s would and his teeth are suspiciously sharp and he gets weird cravings for raw meat which he can somehow digest perfectly fine with absolutely no issue but he’s not like OVERTLY some otherworldly creature he’s just a little weird. a tad strange even. possibly even kind of unsettling depending on who you ask.

and i like to imagine these are a lot of things that were present in his childhood too, like his mother would wake up to the sound of rummaging in the kitchen and find him at the ripe old age of five just gnawing at a whole raw steak in the dark. he’s just sort of always been like that and didn’t realize it was weird until he was older. (is a lot of this used as metaphors for undiagnosed neurodiversity/mental illness? …..iii dont knowwww :3 (yes) (although not every aspect of him is a total reflection of myself, he is still his own character in many respects lolol))

but in general this ends up causing him all sorts of issues in all sorts of millions of ways. for one he has sort of a fragile sense of self because he doesn’t even know what he is?? he knows he can’t just be a regular old human because of all the previously mentioned reasons and a few more, but that aside he has no idea what he is. he also doesn’t know pretty much anything about how his immortality works beyond what he’s experienced and what the others have told him during the times when he’s “dead,” he has no idea how his aging is affected by it because he seems to be aging relatively normally so far, he has no clue if he will EVER die for good/if there’s any way to kill him, he has no idea how his body seems to heal the most insane fatal injuries as if nothing happened, and much more quickly than a normal human would, he kinda doesn’t know jack shit about himself and it pisses him off a little bit!

it also has just caused him lots of trauma as you can probably imagine. lots of dissociation everywhere he looks

moving on to how his immortality actually works: like i said there’s only so much he knows about it but this is all the info he knows so far. he CAN “die” but all of his deaths are temporary. that is to say that his body will eventually heal and regenerate itself and he will come back. it’s not like deadpool where he can get stabbed in the head and go about the rest of his day like nothing happened, he might be able to keep himself up for a while to fight back or run away but it wont be long before he drops dead for a few days or so. during said time his body outwardly does seem very dead. he’s unresponsive and still and isn’t blinking or nothing and his pupils are blown (which he already has huge pupils but yk), like if you were to just show him to someone they’d be like “yeah that’s absolutely a corpse and also why would you show this to me.” but his body is still alive in a sense, it’s just sort of… yknow when you put a computer into sleep mode?? upon first glance it’s gonna look like it’s off but inwardly things are still going on. his body is still working to regenerate itself the whole time, even if whatever he sustained that “killed” him would very much not be healable or survivable by any normal person. in his POV, he just sort of gets knocked out for a while and then wakes up exhausted and sore and absolutely FAMISHED. like he could easily eat a horse without any exaggeration the boy can eat.

he’s also always been interested in horror and the supernatural and crime and shit and is largely desensitized to that sort of stuff from that + experiencing a lot of different deaths himself bc of the whole immortality thing paired with him being generally reckless when he was younger because what’s it gonna do? kill him? (“what’re you gonna do, jeff the kill me?” -him at jeff moments before being stabbed, probably) he says he doesn’t care but it actually effects him deeply in ways he doesn’t understand for a while. as he gets older he becomes less reckless and doesn’t throw himself into dangerous situations as often.

all that being said he’s not necessarily all that dangerous himself?? he carries his dagger around with him for protection or cutting up meat and apples or woodcarving more than anything and as a proxy he works a lot more as just an… observer. despite his name he’s not really all for the killing people stuff if he can help it unlike many of the others, if anything his name more so refers to the fact that HE’S usually the one getting slashed up. (it’s actually just bc of my username but shhhhhh) but generally he much prefers to be in the background keeping watch or scoping things out or just sort of… stalking people basically. dont ask me how he manages to be stealthy in THAT outfit… he manages somehow i swear 😔

but yknow overall he’s not an incredible threat to most people, the “creepy” part of him being a creepypasta comes a lot more just from how much it would suck to be in his shoes as just a guy who happens to be immortal but still able to experience the pain of death over and over again. he isn’t the creepy thing as much as his entire life experience is LOL. usually he’s just unsettling and disturbing at most.

he also has a VERY complex relationship with BEN in my AU specifically (WHICH RANDOM DISCLAIMER TIME: NOT THE LITTLE 12 YEAR OLD VERSION NOOOOO EW my au’s BEN is like a combo of “fanon” him and behavioral event network he is not 12 years old and i dont want him being shipped with anything NEAR that version of him, ONLY my AU’s version who is 19. im not a freak. 💔 they’re not a couple anyway (BEN🤝slasher -> being aro) but i did wanna preface that just in case bc im not trying to get misinterpreted like that) might write more about that sometime… bc their relationship has a lot of symbolism and complexity bc BEN is my fav character ever period and yes i am gonna write him and my self insert oc as being incredibly deeply intertwined bc i love him and cringe culture can kick rocks and therapy is difficult to get :3 oc x canon shippers platonic or romantic yall will always be safe on my blog frfr

im gonna post more about BEN soon too…. literally working on actually making a proper design for him rn which is mostly just difficult bc i cannot for the life of me think of what to give this freak to wear. i need them to serve cunt but like….. how do i do that 💔💔 that one BEN design i reblogged that gave him the adorable little heels….. absolutely genius………. u know who u are :3

more random rapid fire fun facts about him bc why not: he loves piercings and tattoos and body mods bc they heal so easily for him, he has his tongue split! (NEEEED to do one day actually my dream body mod), his immortality doesn’t seem to effect his ability to get sick which he HATES but when he does get sick it only lasts for a day or so and he’s a total drama queen the whole time, he loves to sew (though only by hand, he’s genuinely afraid of sewing machines) and will patch up or modify clothes for his friends or other proxies if they ask, his favorite kind of raw meat is boar, and his favorite cooked meat is a tie between pork (boar or domestic pig) and chicken, he wears his headphones most of the time bc he loves music and sounds can sometimes overstimulate him, and BEN can talk to him through them because of course he can, he loves animals and actually has way more empathy for them than for humans, and he absolutely LOVES medical dramas and does not care that a lot of the actual medical parts are inaccurate he will eat them up. he WILL be caught staying up until 6am watching chicago med and he will not apologize.

ANYWAY i think that’s about it actually. if anyone actually read all my ramblings…. i love u /p u mean very much to me /p

i WILL be yapping more soon (except probably about the actual “canon” pastas hehe) :3

[avatarcompanion]

I get what you're saying, but that is kind of is what OP is getting at I think...

You are right they were wrong to promote it as "honoring" and staying true to the cartoon, because it made people go into it with higher expectations than they could live up to. I think that was a bit comparing it to the live action we don't speak about, and it is true this one is much more respectful to atla, because it wouldn't be hard to be (not casting super racist). I also think they were arrogant enough to think people would consider it even better than the cartoon. That is completely on them. The warning signs were actually them calling the show iffy and sexist and so on, as if they were gonna improve it.

So they should have said from the beginning things like "we are retelling with a bigger focus on characters like Sokka, Azula and Zuko. We are more interested in elements of the story such as x, we thing it's fun to bring in elements of later lore from the comics and a lok, etc".

However, looking outside of those comments, there was no reason to go into it expecting it actually would honor all those elements you talk about. Because most adaptions DON'T stay "true" to their source material. Most adaptions are OOC. Most adaptations do focus more on elements that the new creators care about, etc.

They should have embraced that, and in fact it's fine to do that. Most of your points that it's OOC I agree with, but it's only a problem because they said they were going to stay true to it. It is in itself not a flaw to make an adaption that differs vastly or represents a story differently than an original, if you are presenting it as such.

It's not worse or more OOC than many other adaptions of YA material like Harry Potter or Hunger Games. They NEVER capture the original heart, and shouldn't even try to. In this case, ignoring what they said, the story itself actually felt far more up front about radically altering things and NOT being a shot by shot adaption than those examples I gave.

That is why from the beginning I stopped expecting it to capture the same spirit or be in character. I started just watching it for all it did DIFFERENTLY, and actually only found those things interesting. Why? Because I already have 'the heart of atla' in the actual atla.

There is also the fact it's a freaking NETFLIX show (most of their own productions suck) and bryke left if for 'creative reaaons'. There was no reason to expect it to be good at all. The fact it's watchable and actually did interesting new things AT ALL with some characters (ex Azula, Suki) and was visually immersive, is a bonus for many who went into it with low expectations.

So the main problem is not that it's OOC and didn't have atla's heart, but their arrogance about it, and even more so, they didn't make anything anywhere nearly as relevant or creative on their own. Which might improve with more seasons.

Hot take: 90% of the people who are complaining about the live action ATLA either went into it wanting to complain about it or expected a perfect adaptation which they knew would never happen

[artsarasp]

Hello! I love your art! Do you recommend the Italian sv translation? It's so much prettier than the English one i keep just going into bookshops and stroking it 🤣 But i haven't been able to justify the expense since I've already got them all in English 😭

Ahhh!! I'd say no??? I'm sorry as much as I'm having fun noticing all the differences between the English edition and the Italian one the more I read the more it becomes clear I should have just gone with the English edition (it's fine in the end cause I bought it when I was out with my friends and I was just very high on spirits!)

They got rid of all the suffixes as well as the glossary about them and the pronunciation guides at the end of the book. Being that there are no suffixes except Shizun (which they don't explain what it means btw, it is mentioned in the general glossary in the suffixes section which is very funny since they got rid of them all) sometimes the text becomes much longer because they need to explain a lot more.

"This was the most senior of the original Shen Qingqiu’s disciples, Luo Binghe’s shixiong, Ming Fan." becomes "Ming Fan era il più anziano tra i suoi discepoli e fratello marziale di Luo Binghe, ma sopra di lui nella scala gerarichica." ( Ming Fan was the most senior of his disiples and Luo Binghe's martial brother, but of higher hierarchy) It's not that bad but it makes everything a little bit longer. Also, all the names of the places have been translated, which is great for understanding but some names are a bit of a mouthful in Italian. They also keep repeating the translated sword's names, first, they go the "Xiuya sword" and right after there's "La spada dell'eleganza spirituale" which would be fine if it wasn't for the fact that it seems to be doing it multiple times AND the fact that the translated names are already available at the end of the book in the character profiles. Idk, maybe it gets better later on but it's irking me a little bit.

There are some diffrences that are very funny if not that they change how a character comes across.

YQY in English saying "Shidi, Don't be angry" has become "Smettila di prendertela con quel ragazzo" (Stop picking on that boy) which was so weird for him to say that it had me opening the English edition to check what he was saying.

When SQQ describes Ming Fan in English it goes "Ming Fan’s appearance was respectable enough, it was just that his face was a bit unfortunate, with a sharp mouth and sunken cheeks." In Italian it goes "Se non fosse stato per le labbra sottili e il volto che ricordava il muso di una scimmia, avrebbe avuto un aspetto accettabile" (If it wasn't for his thin lips and his face which resembled a monkey's snout, he would have looked acceptable) WHICH IS SO MUCH MEANER BUT FUNNY- MING FAN MY POOR BOY.

But now I got to a bit that actually made me a bit annoyed. Like, it doesn't make sense in Italian.

When the system lists what SQQ can do to get B-Points, point two is "Avoid landmines that break suspension of disbelief." and in Italian it got translated to " Eliminare i trigger" (Delete the triggers) which doesn't make sense??? In Italian or English?? This is not how we use the word trigger. I've even asked some friends if maybe I was stupid and forgot my own language but no, it doesn't make sense, no one understood what point two was! This is bad.

I'm gonna keep reading because I can have fun spotting the differences but honestly, treasure your English edition.

[knight-a3]

Hazbin Hotel Sketchbook 2: Part 2

Masterpost

Morningstars

I will have some design notes under the cut, so stay tuned.

Charlie and Lilith's snakes are all named.

Notes under the cut to minimize clutter. I'll try to keep it brief since I've talked about a lot of this before, and plan to go into more detail in dedicated character posts later.

Between dolls, snakes, apples, circuses, ducks, etc, there were just too many motifs/thematic elements to shove onto just Lucifer. So, I streamlined and distributed. Lucifer is goat themed, Lilith is snake themed. Charlie is a mix of the two. I also use this to partly to imply that "the Devil" is not solely Lucifer. But humans mistake various different demons as one character.

Charlie:

Her goat traits were inherited from Lucifer. Hooves, ears, etc. Also the tail. Her hair is designed to look like a goat tail.

Snake traits were inherited from Lilith. Vertically slitted eyes, hair snake, etc. Also doll cheeks and pale skin.

I had considered having her hair be totally made of snakes like Medusa, but that seemed annoying to draw, so I just did one. His name is Hugh, short for Hubris, which is a synonym for pride.

Lucifer:

He has far too many motifs in general. He needed streamlining.

Apples- I reduced this because I think it would be more fitting for Adam and Eve. Eve as the first to eat the fruit, and Adam because... Adam's apple, I guess.

Doll- I know Charlie is meant to resemble a porcelain doll. And in-universe gets it from her dad. But I don't really understand why, so I took it away from him and gave it to Lilith.

King- He does not have any real authority. It's a prison, and even Lucifer is caged. Nobody bothers to respect him. So the "crown" on his hat resembles a gate or cell bars

Ducks- I never understood the choice to associate Lucifer with ducks. And thematically, I can't really justify it. So...um... sorry, but no rubber duckies.

Goat- From what I understand, goats as a demonic symbol comes more from pagan influences rather than the Bible. Overall, Lucifer is a goat because he's been assigned the blame for all the evil in the world. He's the scapegoat. Placing sin on Scapegoats was a Jewish practice during Yom Kipper.

Lightbringer- the word lucifer is used once in some translations of the Bible to describe the arrogance of the King of Babylon in the book of Isaiah, but not as a name. Instead of directly translating the Hebrew word that meant "light bringer," "morning star," "dawn bringer," or "shining one," the Latin term was used. Lucifer often referred to the "star" that is the planet we now call Venus. It would be used to represent pride because it rose and fell before the sun. So the instance of lucifer in the Bible isn't even used as a name, and didn't even refer to the Devil. I say all this because I think it fits the scapegoat theme, and it's why I put a star on his tail.

Wings- Seraphim are described as having 3 sets of wings. Rather than deal with all that or even try to figure out the anatomy of that, I just gave them three sets of primary feathers, which sort of imitates the 6-winged look but is easier for me to draw.

Speaking of his wings. He lost them when he fell. So he does not have wings at all anymore. If he did, they'd be more like dragon wings.

Lilith:

Lilith is not a biblical figure. The word lilith was used once in just some English translations of the Bible. And it's referring to a type of demon, and not used as a name. Other translations change the term to shriek-hawk or similar terms, and is listed with various other night creatures. Lilith as a character appeared in Jewish lore, and was likely satirical. But away from theology and onto hazbin lore...

Because Lilith was originally created as a wife for Adam, she felt treated like an object or plaything rather than a person. So when she fell, she picked up a little bit of a doll motif that isn't prominent in these drawings. I essentially traded the doll features instead of horns. I'm still workshopping specifics.

She was just as involved(if not more so) with offering the fruit to Eve. Thus, she gets the motif of the snake. I didn't want to make her hair entirely snakes, because the long flowing hair seemed like a prominent design feature for her. So I opted to give her 7 hair snakes, one to represent each deadly sin/ring of hell. They're all named.

Pride= Vani (Vanity), she's the one on the top of her head.

Greed= Ava (Avarice)

Lust= Libby (Libido)

Envy= Desi (Desire)

Gluttony= Tony

Wrath= Irene (Ire/Irate)

Sloth= Sloth (too lazy for an actual name). He's the one coiled around her neck, usually sleeping. He also comes from the left side of her head.

Vaggie:

I leaned into the moth elements in her design. I think it was the Columbian Silk moth that I used as as my main reference.

When she fell, she was transformed into a demon like everyone else. So she isn't really an angel anymore and bleeds the same as the other sinners. Not even Lucifer really counts as an angel anymore, due to the corrupting nature of hell.

When Vaggie regains her wings, they are no longer angel wings but are instead moth wings to match the rest of her. They actually double as her hair via magic logic because I like it that way, and it lets me reference some of her older designs.

[weepingtalecowboy]

honestly don’t worry about the rant I quite enjoyed it

yeah you are totally right with the power scaling

I just used satire in my own post to make it obvious

like the weird ways people scale like sky , fierce deity and stuff

Is a bit dumb and more like a headcanon then it is actually supported by the games

like no offense towards the god sky or fierce deity stans at all

but like you said fierce deity is NOT a god

but a deity who canonically in the Zelda series are on a different level then gods

like this alone would make the scaling a bit janky

but also saying that fierce deity (or time ) slayed majora is wrong as well

he defeated the mask

a mask used by just a skull kid to try to annihilate the world (and with a winning hand of over 50 times it managed to do it… if not for the ocarina)

it wasn’t even the actual majora fierce deity defeated just the mask

and even then it still was clowning on both link and the deity

it took nothing seriously (probably because the character wasn’t a threat to it anyway)

honestly a thing I really love about the gods of Zelda games

is how there is a clear distinction between goddess and deities

like hylia for example over thirty games in and we still can’t comprehend what she even IS

we only know she is a goddess who somehow reincarnated as Zelda for free golden Doritos

yet she is still present in the series as a goddess as well

this incomprehensiblity makes her Seem so all powerful

people YEARS after she appeared have no clue what she even is how she actually looks like , what her nature is

What she IS is a mystery that people can’t comprehend

the exact same thing happens with the wind fish and Oshu the ocean king as well

we know vaguely they are whales and appeared as such in their respective games

yet that brings up more questions then answers

what is the god of dream

are they the same

are they different beings

the introduction of Marin in hyrule warriors made the wind fish even more of a mystery because that implies either the world isn’t real or Marin is real

like again we have no idea

they are incomprehensible

majora and it’s mask are very much cryptics and nobody truly knows their origins

if the entity is a mask

if the mask is separate

why it wants to destroy the world of termina

how it was involved with the captain of the skeletons giving lore that it was involved in a war that destroyed them

we know nothing once again

the fates in cadence of Hyrule are like really weird as well

like Greek or Roman history is as close to an understanding as we are gonna get

yet the fates of mythology are just as confusing and even unsettling in this context

because there should be three fates one of future ,one of present ,one of past they tread their treads for a person and if you see the three fates cut a string in your sight you or someone close to you will die

that is still hella scary to consider

because they constantly tread threads when you speak to them in the game and one seems to be missing

like what the hell happened

we will never understand

yet fierce deity is comprehensive we know it’s just the anger of termina for majora's mask clowning on them

I think in unironically that this distinction makes sense and fixes the power scaling

like gods are told to be incomprehensible and vaste to the point where nobody now’s anything but their rough purpose (except we still don’t really understand anything regardless)

like now sky seems to also not really have ANYTHING to really make him a god beyond headcanon

and even then it would be shaky at best still

his journey was served to him on a golden plater

he had gods

a guide in form of his sword

blessings

and the ability to upgrade his sword (which he in fact DIDN’T make by himself but only upgraded)

yet still messed up

and like it is absolutely fine that he was kinda op and well prepared

But demise ain’t that much

yeah he cursed the whole world and then reincarnated as ganondorf

BUT his curse is not a sign that he immediately and utterly is a god

he was a scoliosis bad skin cancer fall guy whose TOES (THE TOES.!! ) you had to cut to force it back in its hole

and even if he was brought back… he obviously wasn’t full power regardless

Zelda NEEDS to be sacrificed (and it’s not just taking a bit of power from her she needs to actually die to be a sacrifice… that is like what a sacrifice is meant to be you don’t kinda attack a goat when you sacrifice it you kill it for sure)

and honestly in minish cap Vaati did the same and Zelda is also still not sacrificed but just drained of light force by the end yet nobody acknowledges that four killed a god (if we count the demise thing) as well

like there are many fundamentally flawed ideas that while no doubt in fiction are interesting

are not canon to the game

demise hasn’t even done stuff it was ganondorf or ganon (as we count them separately so should demise be counted as a separate entity because even with the links we count them separate as they have all different memories and experiences)

Why are we even making fierce deity special when legend exists

Fanfic prompt:

You know what in comparison to like the canon gods we met fierce deity is just a 6,3 dude with a big unpractical sword and that’s it

Like that’s literally it the beams it can shoot legend was capable of shoot as young as link to the past lol

Four can shoot beams in four swords adventures

Sky has his beam fancy and called a skyward strike

And in triforce heroes legend has a legit cosplay that guess what …can shoot beams

We don’t need to make the fierce deity feel special because it really really isn’t lol

The windfish can create a whole island on a whim and we know that marin at the very least exists so that cannot just be a dream

Because she is chilling in hyrule warriors very much real looking in my opinion

Fierce deity can’t do that from what I saw of it

Fierce deity just a rat in comparison

Honestly would be hilarious if time was worried about the deity until he realized that the deity is his least worrying problem next to legend

Legend clowned on the deity,…

Just saying the den of trials is not the hardest dungeon he had to deal with

Honestly now that I think about it

Legend might actually be a deity

Like death is no problem because you die in cadence of Hyrule for upgrades and with barely any consequences… like at all

He can shoot beams (which seems to be all you need to be a deity nowadays)

Eats ganon for lunch every other week (or adventure)

Has the fierce deity outfit from an actual trial in hytopia

Interacted with …the windfish and has the ability to wake a god,… and build dungeons in its dream

Saved din and Nayru in the oracle games (farore was there as an easter egg)

Fought onox a non ganondorf evil demon thingy with god like powers who tried to control the concept of time by possessing Nayru, and tried to light the flame of destruction to annihilate the whole world

He could control time and space

Change the seasons on a whim

See the future and met the fates of past, and future in cadence of Hyrule (past let’s you come back to life , future tells you where you have to go )

He has like the golden three

The Windfish

And the fates as friends (or acquaintances but then again the windfish likes him canonically for waking him… the fates kinds are actually helpful)

Like honestly legend probably is more of a god for having the golden Doritos every new adventure for breakfast (he probably carries them after cadence of Hyrule or maybe the fates go out their way to revive him anytime he dies … but it’s probably the Doritos

He wishes on the triforce enough to have it on straight up speed dial

Like… probably literally having it on his hand because everyone gave up on building temples for it when they can just give it to the guy who holds it as often as one holds their tooth brush

If we include the royal blood thing as in the mortal with the blood of the goddess

And him and fable being siblings

Then he should be named legendary hylia and nothing else will be tolerated

Like dude is already named legend

And names hold power and significance

Fierce deity probably is his guard dog

Not because hylia's true reincarnation needs help but because it is the legendary hylia's purse dog Anna fun accessory

While time is freaking out that legend could be off legendary status,… honestly I think that was obvious

I feel so bad for hyrule because how the hell can you possibly even TRY to live up to the legacy of a god like being beyond death and capable of ending world destructive threats and has more godly friends then he has mortal ones

It's like ridiculously unfair lol

The chain has a few deities on their group yet sky is not the god in this scenario

Warriors was making fun of a literal god like being , time, sky , etc. probably realize that while he doesn’t lol

And legend probably doesn’t even know that he is as close to a god as one can possibly be

[lukas-broken-bow]

OKAY HI 

I HAVE JUMPED OUT OF MY UNMOTIVATED STUPOUR AND FINALLY FINISHED A RESPONSE TO THIS POST @basilthesnakingthing GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE

for all of you new folks, this is a continuation of this beast

I love thinking about different adaptations of Jekyll - musical Jekyll is the most different, he’s kind of a wimp. like a dripping wet coward with zero moral flexibility what a joke (said with love but musical Jekyll will never cease to make me want to make fun of him). book Jekyll wanted to indulge in impulse, which I can respect - Hyde was basically his alternative account where he shitposted with no consequences. until there were consequences. TGS Jekyll is similar. that man has buckets upon buckets of repression and inner shame, the only difference is that his alternative account has a consciousness of his own. “I had more than a father’s interest in him” core I fear. 

I totally agree- Hyde isn’t evil! he’s a lack of inhibition! he’s passion and fire and rage without bounds! he’s everything Jekyll never allowed himself to be, and THAT is what Jekyll lost. he acts like the same guy he always was because that’s how he’s always acted, but imo the Jekyll and Hyde that we know in TGS are the two halves of the original Henry Jekyll - the half he outwardly presented, and the half he kept within, ashamed. 

have you ever seen Mission: Impossible 3? I honestly doubt you have (not many people I know are as into M:I as I am, literally just my family and my mate Chris and that’s it, I’ve given up on finding other M:I fans in the wild I fear), but regardless, in M:I3 one of the characters, Benji, talks about an ‘Anti-God’; a man-made compound of sorts that Benji sort of sees as a mystery tech end-of-all-things. I like to think that Jekyll sees Pretty technological norms like that - the Anti-God, in a way. idk, it’s a pretty abstract idea that I have a hard time explaining.

I really want to brainstorm more about Jekyll coming home still Pretty, it’s such a lucrative angst concept I think - imagine the society trying to converse with him like he’s normal and he’s acting all weird and loopy and so utterly Pretty it’s horrifying. I think they would probably figure out a way to fix it but only after the Big Big Sad. maybe also after discovering Hyde and Jekyll are one and the same for the extra whammy.

[cattakattywampus]

I caved in and I made personalized sonic playlists for each character

Uhhhh idk why I spent so much time doing these I was bored out of my mind djdhduddj plus I like getting in the character's heads thinking "what would THEY listen to?" And that's what this is!

Here's the playlists and their respective genre's if ur curious to listen:

.

Sonic: Hair metal, Ska punk and Hip Hop

Tails: Pop rock and twee rock (this one was tricky)

Knuckles: Jazz, R&B and Rap (I hope to expand more songs in his playlist)

Amy: Pop

Shadow: Industrial, Alternative and Nu-Metal

Rouge: Jazz, Bossa Nova, Funk, and some club music!

I might do eggman at some point who knows? 👀

[gr0ggy]

ᖴOᖇ YOᑌ (​ᗰIGᑌEᒪ ᙭ ᗷᒪK!ᖇEᗩᗪEᖇ)

warnings: 18+, dbf!miguel o'Hara, age gap (reader is 25, Miguel is 44), all characters are adults exept for gabriella, dad’s best friend Miguel, sexual content, gabriella exists, no use of yn, miguel x reader, Miguel is spiderman, Miguel is a whore, black reader, descriptions of hair and skin, slow, swearing, mother father and brother’s name mentioned, not set in 2099

wc: 4.8k

Series Masterlist | Blog | Masterlist

Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ９： Ｋｎｉｃｋｓ

art cred: _insomniac_red_ on ig, nightmare_fuell on twt,  _peachyypie_ on ig, sberrymango, Mamba

_________________________________________________

There was silence for a few minutes. You and Miguel were looking at each other, his cum seeping out of you as he held you in his arms, tangled together on your couch.

"You still want to shower?" 

"Yeah, just...give me a second." He said. 

Finally, a few minutes later, he sat up, running a hand through his thick brown hair. His eyes were pointed at the ground. You put a hand on his back, gently soothing him.

"Everything okay?" 

No, everything was not okay. He was having post-nut clarity. Especially after what your dad had said. He had a 'reputation.' In the moment, when Miguel's with you⎯kissing you, fucking you⎯he completely forgets about the idea of you being James' daughter. He was feeling guilty, and it had just now started to weigh on him. The dichotomy between the way he looked at you hardly 30 minutes ago versus the way he was looking at you now was like taking a bullet. 

"Yeah, I—I just... You're my friend's daughter, y'know?" He leaned onto your couch, throwing his head back.

"I know..." you replied. "But I'm also an adult who can make my own decisions." You scooched closer to him. 

"I can't. I shouldn't." Miguel wasn't telling you; he was telling himself. 

"What's up with you? Why can't you make up your damn mind?" You were starting to get irritated. 

"I mean, one day you're begging me to stay, and the next you're balls deep in me..." You paused. "And now you 'shouldn't'?" 

"I know, I'm—" 

"Do you want me, or not, Miguel?" 

"Of course I want you." His voice was low and gruff, his gaze flickering down to your lips before returning to your eyes.

"That's the fucking problem," Miguel huffed. "It's not right, but god, I can't stop myself from wanting you." That made your stomach coil, because you knew you couldn't stop yourself either, no matter how hard you tried.

"Look, I understand what you're feeling, but if we both want each other, I don't get why we can't keep going." You crossed your legs on the cushions, his mess still inside you. You really needed a shower.

"Because if he finds out, he'll kill me." He said. "He already thinks I'm trying to—" 

You cut him off before he could finish. 

"He doesn't know anything." You paused, realizing how much your father's words had gotten to him.

Miguel let out a deep sigh, dragging his hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the guilt that clung to him. "He doesn't need to know anything," he murmured, his voice more to himself than to you.

You shifted closer, your knee brushing against his thigh. "Exactly. What we do, what this is, has nothing to do with him. It's between us, Miguel."

He looked at you then, his dark eyes clouded with indecision. "It's not that simple," he said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. "James is... like family to me. I owe him more respect than this."

"Respect?" You scoffed, throwing your hands up. "Respect would be you treating me like the adult I am and letting me make my own choices. Or does that not count because I'm 'James's daughter'?"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Miguel said, his jaw tightening.

"Then explain it to me," you pressed, your frustration bubbling over. "Explain why you're so terrified of wanting me when it's so obvious you do."

His gaze locked with yours, intense and unyielding. "Because you're dangerous," he said quietly. "You make me forget myself. Forget my principles. Hell, forget my sanity."

You tilted your head, lips curving into a small, defiant smile. "Then stop fighting it. Stop pretending you don't crave this as much as I do."

Miguel's hand twitched at his side, as if caught between pulling you closer or pushing you away. Finally, he exhaled sharply and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands.

"You make it sound so easy," he muttered, his voice muffled.

"Because it is," you said, leaning in until your lips were just inches from his ear. "It's only complicated if we make it that way."

Miguel froze for a moment before his hands slowly dropped from his face. He turned to you, and the conflict in his eyes was clear as day. "You don't get it," he said, shaking his head. "If this goes wrong, I could lose him—his trust, our friendship..."

"You won't lose me," you said firmly, cutting him off. "And honestly, Miguel, if you're that worried about what my dad thinks, then maybe you should just stop seeing me altogether."

The challenge in your voice hung heavy in the air, and you knew you were testing him. Pushing him. Forcing him to decide, once and for all, if he was willing to fight for this or if his fear would win.

Miguel stared at you, his jaw tight, his breathing uneven. Then, finally, he muttered, "You really don't make this easy, do you?"

You smiled, leaning back slightly. "Never said I would."

And just like that, the tension broke. Miguel let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair again. "You're gonna drive me insane, you know that?"

"Good," you replied, crossing your arms. "Maybe then you'll finally stop overthinking everything."

He looked at you for a long moment, something shifting in his eyes. It wasn't guilt or fear anymore, it was something closer to resolve. He was giving in. He couldn't help it.

"Fine," he said, his voice steady. "But if we're doing this, we have to be careful. No slipping up. No giving anyone a reason to suspect anything."

"You kinda screwed the pooch already with Benny," you said, grinning.

Miguel sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back against the couch. "That was... instinctual."

"Instinctual? Really?" you teased, standing up and stretching.

Miguel's eyes flickered over you, lingering just a moment too long before he looked away, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Go take your shower," he said.

You smirked, turning toward the bathroom. "Come with me," you called over your shoulder.

Miguel let out a soft laugh, watching you disappear down the hallway.

"No, I'll take one after you." He called out. Miguel knew that if he followed, you'd end up having sex again, and he didn't think his conscience could take that tonight. 

 For all his protests and doubts, one thing was clear, you weren't going anywhere, and neither was he.

_________________________________________________

For the past few weeks, Miguel had been asking you to babysit Gabriella more often than usual. It was odd—especially on Saturdays. Saturdays had always been sacred to him, a day he'd reserved solely for Gabriella ever since he vowed to be more present in her life. After that heart-to-heart with Peter about balancing work and family, Miguel had taken that promise seriously. So, for him to suddenly need you on a Saturday? Strange, to say the least.

He hadn't given you much of an explanation either. Something had "come up," he said, and it was urgent. He needed to head back to the lab. So, like the good friend (or... whatever) you were, you went to his place. But before you could even get a word in, he was already halfway out the door.

"Hey," you greeted, smiling as he brushed past you in a blur of movement.

"Sorry, I really gotta go!" he called out, his voice rushed, his breathing slightly ragged as though he'd been running around. He didn't even stop to make eye contact.

Before you could respond, the door clicked shut behind him.

You stood there for a moment, blinking at the door. What the hell was that about? Miguel was always composed, always in control, and seeing him so frazzled was... unusual. Your mind immediately started spinning with possibilities. Was he seeing someone? No, that couldn't be it. He said he was going to Alchemax. Maybe there was some kind of emergency? Something he couldn't tell you about?

Before you could dwell on it too much, a little voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Look! Daddy got me new dolls!" Gabriella chirped, emerging from her room with two dolls clutched tightly in her small hands.

You smiled, instantly softening at the sight of her. "Wow, they're so pretty! Can I see one?"

She handed you one of the dolls, her face beaming with excitement.

"Do you want to play dollhouse with me?" you asked, crouching down to her level, your curiosity about Miguel temporarily shoved aside.

"Duh!" she replied with a dramatic little eye roll, making you chuckle.

Grinning, you grabbed her hand and led her to the living room, where you both set up her dollhouse.

As you were arranging furniture and placing the dolls inside, you absentmindedly clicked on the TV for some background noise. The first channel that popped up was the news, and you were about to change it to something more kid-friendly when the reporter's words caught your attention.

"Spider-Man stops local gang threat," the news ticker read. The headline was accompanied by shaky footage of the masked vigilante swinging through the city, effortlessly taking down a group of armed thugs.

You froze for a moment, staring at the screen. Spider-Man. You'd heard of him, of course—who in the city hadn't? But you'd never really thought much about him. Your world was consumed by work, fashion, and the chaos of your own life. The masked hero was just... there, a part of the city's fabric you hadn't paid much attention to. Then again, the guy was new. He just kind of showed up out of nowhere about 4 months ago. 

"He's so cool," Gabriella said, her wide eyes glued to the TV. She hugged one of her dolls to her chest, her small face lit up with awe.

You glanced down at her, smiling. "He is, isn't he?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I wanna meet him one day!"

You laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Maybe you will."

But as the footage continued, something about it stuck with you. The way Spider-Man moved—quick, deliberate, with an almost predatory grace. It reminded you of...

No. That was crazy.

You shook your head, trying to dismiss the thought. But the more you watched, the harder it was to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

"Do you think Spider-Man has kids?" Gabriella asked suddenly, her innocent question pulling you from your spiraling thoughts.

You tilted your head, considering her question. "I don't know, sweetie. Maybe. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, fiddling with her doll's hair. "He's really busy, but he still helps people. Kind of like Daddy."

Your breath caught for a moment, and you forced a smile. "Yeah, kind of like your dad," you murmured, your mind now racing in a completely different direction.

Could it be? No, it was absurd. Miguel couldn't possibly be—

"Your turn!" Gabriella interrupted, shoving a doll into your hand.

You shook off your thoughts, focusing back on the game. But as you continued playing with Gabriella, you couldn't help but steal glances at the TV whenever Spider-Man's image flashed across the screen. The doubt, the curiosity, it was all starting to gnaw at you.

_________________________________________________

By the time Miguel returned that evening, looking just as rushed and distracted as when he'd left, you couldn't stop yourself from studying him more closely. His stance, the way he moved, even the slight cut on his knuckles that hadn't been there earlier.

"Everything okay?" you asked casually, trying to mask the suspicion brewing inside you.

"Yeah," he said, his tone clipped as he brushed past you to check on Gabriella.

You watched him, your heart pounding as the pieces began to fit together in a way you didn't want to believe.

Miguel... Spider-Man?

No. It couldn't be. Could it?

You were smart, you knew that. And you had the intuition of a voodoo psychic. If your gut was telling you something, you listened. But this... this was just too far-fetched. Spider-Man? Miguel O'Hara? It sounded like the setup for a bad rom-com. Yet, the idea wouldn't leave your mind. It lingered, whispering doubts that refused to fade, no matter how ridiculous they seemed.

You tried to brush it off, shaking your head at yourself as you followed Miguel into the kitchen. Gabriella had already darted ahead, excitedly showing her dad the tower of blocks she'd built while you babysat. He gave her his full attention, kneeling down to admire her work, his tired face softening into a genuine smile. It was a side of Miguel you were used to, gentle, caring, and utterly devoted to his daughter.

But your eyes kept straying to his hands. Strong hands, capable hands, hands you'd seen lift Gabriella effortlessly, hands that had gripped your waist with precision and strength more times than you cared to count. Now, you noticed the faint bruises on his knuckles, the subtle stiffness in his movements, the tension in his shoulders. They weren't the signs of a man who had just spent hours in a lab. No, these were the marks of someone who had been in a fight.

"Rough day?" you asked, leaning casually against the counter, testing the waters.

Miguel glanced at you, his expression unreadable. "Something like that," he said, his tone curt. He straightened up, ruffling Gabriella's hair before turning to the fridge.

"Lab work get physical these days?" you pressed, keeping your tone light, almost teasing. But your heart was racing.

He froze for a split second, just long enough for you to notice. His shoulders stiffened, and when he turned to look at you, his expression was guarded. "What are you getting at?"

You shrugged, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. "Nothing. Just curious. You've been so busy lately, and now you're coming back looking like you've been in a boxing match." You motioned toward his hand. "What happened there?"

His eyes flicked down to his knuckles, and for a moment, you thought he might actually tell you. But then he sighed, shaking his head. "It's nothing. I just... hit it on some equipment at the lab."

The lie was so obvious it made you want to laugh. Equipment? Really? But you kept your face neutral, biting back the sarcasm that was threatening to spill out.

"Right," you said slowly, your gaze narrowing slightly. "Well, next time, maybe try not to punch the equipment. Seems counterproductive."

That earned you a smirk, but it was fleeting. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and leaned against the counter, his posture still tense. "You're overthinking it."

"Am I?" you asked, crossing your arms as you leaned against the counter opposite him. Your eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The tension between you was thick, and you could tell he knew you weren't buying his excuse.

Gabriella's voice broke the silence as she called out from the living room. "Daddy! Come see my drawing!"

Miguel gave you one last look, something flickering in his eyes that you couldn't quite place, guilt? Frustration? before pushing off the counter and heading toward his daughter.

You stood there, your arms still crossed, watching him go. Your gut was screaming at you now, every little detail clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle you hadn't even realized you were assembling. The bruises, the sudden late nights, how Spider-Man only started showing up when Miguel moved back from Texas.

His build.

_________________________________________________

 A Few Days Later...

Your dad had invited everyone to the penthouse to watch the Knicks game. He had always been a die-hard basketball fan, ever since his high school days, and now that the team was finally in its best shape in over a decade, his excitement was practically contagious. You were comfortable, in a groutfit with your curly dark hair in a messy puff atop your head. 

You and your mom were in the kitchen preparing a massive tray of nachos while your brother, Clay, and your dad were already glued to the TV, loudly arguing over the starting lineup.

"So..." your mom started casually, her tone teasing.

"So?" you replied, not looking up from the skillet as you focused on browning the beef, hoping to dodge whatever line of questioning she was about to throw your way.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Her voice was innocent, but you could feel her eyes on you.

"What? No," you said quickly, almost too quickly.

"Oh, you just seem..." She waved her hands in the air, wiggling her fingers dramatically. "...happier. Like someone's been keeping a smile on your face."

You let out a nervous laugh, hoping it sounded genuine. "Nah. It's probably all the time I've been spending with Gabi."

Your mom softened at that, her face lighting up. "She's such a sweet girl, isn't she?" she said, stirring the homemade nacho cheese in a silver pot.

"Very," you said, hoping to steer the conversation back to nachos and away from anything Miguel-related.

Before your mom could press further, your dad let out a groan, not at the TV, as you first thought, but at his watch.

"He's gonna be late!" he grumbled.

You cocked an eyebrow, confused. "Who's gonna be late?" you called out from the kitchen.

"Miguel! I invited him over to watch the game."

Your stomach sank, and a rush of panic swept over you. "What?" You turned to your mom, eyes wide. "Mom, did you know about this?"

"Of course I did," she said, her tone calm as she shrugged. "Why do you sound so concerned?"

"I'm not," you replied hastily. "It's just... I thought this was a family thing."

"Miguel is family!" your dad shouted from the living room as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You stared at the cheese bubbling in the pot, trying to collect yourself. Miguel. Here. At the penthouse. Watching the game. With your dad. Great. Just great.

Things were already tense between you after you got on his case earlier that week.

A knock at the door pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. You froze for a second, the spatula still in your hand.

"Can you get that, sweetheart?" your mom asked, smiling knowingly.

Your heart raced as you wiped your hands on a dish towel and made your way to the door. When you opened it, there he was—Miguel, standing in the doorway, his towering frame clad in a Knicks jersey and dark jeans. His hair was slightly disheveled like he'd run his hand through it one too many times, and his brown eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"Hey," he said.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the door. "Hey. Come in."

Miguel stepped inside, the faint scent of his cologne hitting you like a wave—clean, sharp, undeniably him. As he walked past you, his shoulder brushed yours, and you couldn't help but glance back at him.

"Miguel!" your dad's booming voice called out. "Get over here! Game's about to start!"

Miguel turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. For a split second, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes, hesitation, maybe? But it was gone just as quickly. He nodded toward the living room and made his way over to your dad, who greeted him like a long-lost brother.

You stayed rooted to the spot, your fingers gripping the edge of the doorframe. You weren't sure if it was panic or excitement, or maybe both, but whatever it was, it had your heart pounding.

"Sweetheart, come help me with the nachos!" your mom called out, breaking your trance.

You closed the door and made your way back to the kitchen, stealing one last glance at Miguel as he settled into the couch beside your dad. He fit in so seamlessly, laughing and talking like he'd been part of the family for years.

But you knew better. You knew the tension between you wasn't going away, no matter how hard you tried to bury it. 

_________________________________________________

When the nachos were done, you and your mom carried out the platter and some plates. The warm aroma of melted cheese and seasoned beef filled the room, earning a collective "Mmm" from the couch.

"Done!" your mom said in a sing-songy voice, setting the platter down on the ottoman. "Dig in!"

"Thanks, babe," your dad said, leaning over to kiss her cheek as she took her place beside him. Clay was already reaching for a chip, crunching loudly as he focused on the game.

The only open seat left was next to Miguel. Clay was on his other side, lying down with his legs sprawled selfishly, leaving just enough room for you to squeeze in. You hesitated for a moment before sitting down, feeling the subtle brush of Miguel's broad shoulder against yours as you settled on the couch.

You would’ve sat next to your parents, they took the big couch, but they were being far too lovey-dovey with each other and it made you slightly uncomfortable. Or maybe that was just an excuse.

Miguel glanced at you, offering a quick, fleeting smile before looking away, his expression immediately composed. Your legs were barely grazing his, but you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the space between you suddenly feeling far too small.

You sat there silently, grabbing a chip and nibbling on it as the conversation flowed around the room. Your dad was loudly dissecting the Knicks' defensive strategy, and Miguel chimed in every now and then, his deep voice commanding attention. You couldn't help but notice the way his jaw flexed with every word, the way his dark eyes shined with focus as he engaged in the discussion.

It was maddening, sitting so close to him yet pretending like he didn't consume every thought in your mind. You had to remind yourself to look away constantly, worried that someone, your dad especially, might catch you staring at him like he was the most mesmerizing thing you'd ever seen.

"You want some?" Miguel's voice suddenly cut through your internal monologue, low enough that only you could hear. He held out a chip with all smile, the corners of his lips teasing as he tilted it toward you.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Uh, no thanks," you said, shaking your head and looking away quickly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Did he really just do that here? a big part of you was scared that your dad would actually kill Miguel if he found out. But it was as if Miguel had forgotten everything he said a few days ago.

He chuckled softly, barely audible under the sound of Clay shouting at the TV.

Minutes passed, feeling both too long and too short, before Miguel leaned over slightly, his voice brushing against your ear. "You okay?"

His tone was casual, but his words sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded, keeping your eyes forward on the game. "Yeah. Why?"

"You seem... quiet," he said, his voice dropping just a fraction, making your pulse race. "Unusual for you."

You shot him a glance, narrowing your eyes playfully. "I can be quiet sometimes, you know."

"Mm-hmm," he murmured, leaning back into the couch with an amused expression. "If you say so."

You were about to respond when your mom called out, "Sweetheart, can you grab some more napkins from the kitchen?"

Relieved for an excuse to break the tension, you stood up quickly. "Sure."

As you made your way to the kitchen, you felt Miguel's gaze follow you. You grabbed the napkins from the counter, but before you could head back, you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you. Turning around, you found Miguel standing in the doorway, his large frame leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Need backup?" he asked, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small smile that crept onto your lips. "I think I can handle napkins on my own, thanks."

He stepped closer, his expression shifting to something more serious. "You've been avoiding me," he said softly. Luckily the apartment was so big that no one could hear him over the TV.

Your heart skipped a beat. "I haven't been avoiding you, I'm sitting right next to you," you said, though the defensive tone in your voice betrayed you.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. "You barely looked at me all night. You don't think I notice that?"

"I was just trying to... keep things normal," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're here with my dad, Miguel."

"I know, and here I am," he said, stepping even closer. His proximity was overwhelming, the heat of his body making it hard to think straight. "Following you into the kitchen like an idiot."

You stared at him, your breath hitching as the air between you grew heavy. "Miguel... we can't—"

"Okay," he interrupted, his voice low and filled with frustration. "But that doesn't stop me from wanting to."

You'd noticed something was different about him, he's more insistent. The whole week, you'd been having sex almost every night. it was like he was a teenager, like his hormones were on overdrive. 

"Weren't you the one who said we had to be careful?" You whispered through your teeth.

Before you could finish, the sound of your dad shouting from the living room broke the moment. "Hey! Where are those napkins?"

Miguel sighed, running a hand through his hair as he took a step back. "Guess we'd better get back."

You nodded, grabbing the napkins and brushing past him, your heart pounding as you returned to the living room. 

_________________________________________________

The Knicks game ended with a victorious cheer from your dad, who clapped Clay on the back with a grin wide enough to light up the entire room. Your mom started collecting the empty plates and glasses, humming softly as she moved around the living room.

"Well, that was a good game," your dad said, standing up and stretching. "I think that calls for some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

Clay yawned and nodded, getting up and heading toward his room. Your mom followed shortly after, pausing to kiss your dad on the cheek before disappearing down the hallway. It wasn’t long before your dad turned to Miguel, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder.

"You staying the night? You know the guest room’s always yours," your dad offered.

Miguel smiled politely. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Never is,” your dad said with a chuckle before looking over at you. “You staying up?”

You hesitated, glancing at Miguel, who avoided your gaze. “Yeah, just for a little bit.”

Your dad nodded and headed off to his room, leaving the living room eerily quiet except for the faint hum of the TV still playing highlights from the game.

You sat back on the couch, pulling your legs up beneath you as Miguel remained where he was, his elbows resting on his knees. Neither of you said anything for a moment, the weight of the silence making the air feel heavier.

“You don’t have to stay up,” he finally said, his voice low and distant. “I can manage on my own.”

“I wasn’t staying up for you,” you lied, your tone sharp enough to make him glance at you. “I just… wasn’t tired.”

He smirked faintly, his lips twitching at the edges. “Right.”

You stood abruptly, heading to the kitchen under the guise of needing water. You could feel his eyes on you as you moved, your body hyper-aware of his presence even as you tried to seem casual.

When you returned with your glass, he was still sitting on the couch, but his posture had changed—leaning back now, one arm draped across the back of the cushions. His tie was loosened, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, exposing the smooth line of his collarbone.

“You’re not good at hiding things, you know,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You froze mid-sip, lowering the glass. “What are you talking about?”

He shrugged, his dark eyes catching the light from the TV. “The way you look at me. The way you avoid looking at me when your dad’s around.” His voice dropped lower. “The way you left the room earlier, like you couldn’t breathe.”

Your stomach twisted, your throat dry despite the water you’d just drank. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You sure about that?”

You set the glass down on the coffee table, your hands trembling slightly. “Miguel, we can’t do this here."

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. “But it doesn’t change anything, does it?”

You sat down on the edge of the couch, careful to keep some distance between you, but even that felt like too much. The magnetic pull between you was undeniable, and no amount of logic or self-control could keep it at bay.

“Miguel…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. 

Before you could protest, he closed the gap between you, his large hand brushing against yours. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you hated how much you wanted him, despite everything. He leaned into the crook of your neck, kissing it lightly. You gave in, turning your head to meet his lips. You closed your eyes, the kiss soft. 

Then, it starts to pick up, your hand finds the back of his neck, tugging him closer. 

You pulled away suddenly, pushing him away playfully. "Stop kissing me when my dad's upstairs."

"Stop kissing me back."

_________________________________________________

To be continued...

Taglist: @keidilla @deputy-videogamer 

I'm so bad at world building, but I decided to make Miguel a late bloomer when it comes to spiderman. Instead of him becoming the hero in his mid 20's I chose to make it later in his life because I can idk...

[sixties-doctor-who-stan]

I thought everyone loved Rosa? Or at least I remember everyone loving it in 2018 (I don't literally mean everyone)

There is valid criticism to make of the episode. The main one being that ultimately Krasko would have at most delayed but couldn't prevent the Civil Rights movement (that was very much already in progress - Claudette Colvin had already refused to give up her seat, she wasn't made the face of the movement because she was an unmarried teenage mother compared with the respectable, middle-aged and married Rosa Parks)

I agree that Rosa standing on her own works better (and in the episode I like that she connects with Ryan and Yaz but not really with Graham or the Doctor) particularly in the context of preserving history (since we don't know what the ripple effects are).

I must admit it's tricky because it being a pure historical would make the whole "we need to preserve this moment" part not needed and it could have been a moment of "oh, we are part of this" more shocking but if it was a pure historical they would have gotten OUT of there asap

Another critique I have is simply that it is set in America rather than the UK, the UK Civil Rights movement was also a thing that (white) people don't talk about. They could have done an episode about Paul Stephenson and the Bristol Bus Company boycott (he was still alive in 2018 so I could see that being a little weird but you get my point).

This is a common thing in the UK when we learn about civil rights - we learn about American or South African civil rights but NOT about civil rights in the UK (to make it an 'over there' issue rather than something people we might know would be dealing with)

For all that, I honestly love Rosa. (My pasty white self may be missing something I will heartily admit). I really love how the characters all work together and how Ryan is the one to defeat the racist villain. And the direction is GORGEOUS, Mark Tonderai is SUCH a good director and I've been a fan of Malorie Blackman since I was 13 so it was cool that she wrote an episode and she really knocked it out of the park (I don't know how much was changed from her original version I will add).

I will admit, when I first heard there was going to be a Rosa Parks episode I was NERVOUS and I was so worried it was going to whitewash history. While it did in that no-one says the n-word (and arguably the white residents would likely have been more brutally violent), it didn't "redeem" the racists or try to "explain" it.

I don't get why people say that the Rosa Parks episode is necessarily bad. I feel there's a lot of nuance to it that people tend to overlook.

Right off the bat, we get this parallel: how the Doctor and the fam are from out of town like Emmett Till was. It's a warning to tread carefully. Yes, we would all like to go around punching racist bigots, but this is not the time or place.

And then we have this white supremacist recently released from Stormcage (missed opportunity to name-drop River to be honest—though season 11 was a soft reboot for new viewers, so I understand why they would hesitate to mention Doctor's wife being held in the same prison as this man, imagine the outrageous misunderstandings it would cause?). He probably got arrested by a Black officer (speculation) and now has it out for Rosa Parks, the spark that led to the Civil Rights Movement.

As Yaz says here.

Now, coming to the most controversial part of the episode, you have to consider that maybe this was the only logical next step.

Remember, this was Krasko's plan. He couldn't kill Rosa because of the neuro restrictor in his brain (the Doctor being so smug about that while he had her in literal chokehold is a scene that lives rent-free in my head). But he nudged history enough by cheap little tactics (changing the bus drivers, smashing up the bus, etc.) that by the time The Doctor and the fam got things back on track there weren't enough passengers for a full bus without them. If they got up now, Krasko would get what he wanted.

In this case, not helping is helping. Helping to preserve history and Rosa's legacy, even it's means being the jerk who recreates the circumstances of her arrest.

This is Rosa's moment. The Doctor and the fam are just spectators to it, and that, I feel, is so much more powerful than if they stepped in or stepped out of the bus. Rosa doesn't need saving. What she needs is to stand up for herself—or should I say sit down for her rights. No matter how hard it might be to watch and do nothing, this is a moment no one gets to take away from her.