#general bad web design

[ilikecorndogs]

kinda hate how "copy link" and "report as adult material" buttons are RIGHT next to each other with no pop up for the later

there have been so many times i went to copy the link to OP (mainly an artist, to credit them directly) and i overshoot the copy link button and WHOOPS this very cool and very SFW art now has a warning going RIGHT to staff saying how its actually NSFW. (and dont get me started on my thoughts about staff and adult material)

[yurimother]

Viral Yuri Manga 'The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy at All' Released in English

On Tuesday, Yen Press released the first volume of Sumiko Arai's popular Yuri manga The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy at All (Ki ni Natteru Hito ga Otoko Janakatta) digitally and in paperback.

The manga, which started its weekly run on X (formerly Twitter) in 2022, follows gyaru Aya Oosawa, who develops a crush on the alt clerk at the CD shop she frequents, unaware that it is her female classmate, Mitsuki Koga. Yen Press further describes the series:

Fashionable and upbeat high schooler Aya falls head over heels for an employee at a local CD shop. He’s got an air of mystery about him, always dressed well, and has impeccable taste in music. Little does she know―this supposedly male employee is actually her female classmate Mitsuki! Mitsuki generally keeps to herself, but since her seat is right next to Aya’s, she can't help but be extremely aware of the other’s crush. Revealing the truth is out of the question―but perhaps getting closer to Aya wouldn’t be so bad...

The series became incredibly popular after its release online, with fans internationally drawn in by the series' distinctive artwork, character designs, and green-color pallet. According to the English publisher, the manga was one of the most demanded series in the recent past and is set to become one of Yen Press's biggest releases of the year.

In April 2023, Kadokawa published the first volume of The Guy She Was Interested In in Japanese. The manga began serialization on Pixiv Comic the same month. The series also won Kadokawa's 2023 Next Manga Award in the web manga category. The second collected volume was released in Japanese in April and is scheduled for English release on February 18, 2025.

The series is translated into English by Ajani Oloye.

You can check out Volume One of The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy at All in English digitally and in paperback: https://amzn.to/3YxI0kW

Edit: 10/24/24 - Corrected a character's name in the description.

[cognitivejustice]

Restoring Indigenous aquaculture heals both ecosystems and communities in Hawai‘i

For generations, native Hawaiians have understood that their aquaculture systems, fishponds known as loko i‘a, serve as nurseries that seed fish populations in surrounding waters. For the first time, a team of scientists from the Hawaiʻi Institute of Marine Biology (HIMB) have modeled this feat of Indigenous science in a study.

“We are using science to translate ‘ike kupuna, or Indigenous knowledge, into policy,” said study co-author Kawika Winter, an ecologist at HIMB and He‘eia National Estuarine Research Reserve (NERR).

“The value of this paper is that it’s one of the first, if not the first, to really show that there are ways to do aquaculture in ways that benefit the system around it.”

In partnership with He‘eia NERR and Paepae o He‘eia, a nonprofit organization dedicated to stewarding the He‘eia loko i‘a, an ancient Hawaiian fishpond enclosing 36 hectares (88 acres) of brackish water, the team simulated different restoration scenarios in Kāne‘ohe Bay on O‘ahu Island based on a simplified food web. The study found that restoring more of the bay into fully functional loko iʻa would grow fish populations not just within the ponds, but across the bay.

“Aquaculture has a really bad reputation for basically destroying areas around it, but those are commercial approaches to aquaculture that aren’t holistic in their thinking or values-based like Indigenous management,” Winter said. “Rather than ensuring the health of the system, commercial aquaculture is concerned with maximizing profits.”

Winter attributed the success of the loko i’a design to Indigenous thought processes: “Indigenous thinking is operating within the opportunities and constraints of this system and figuring out a way to make things abundant within that context, sometimes even increasing abundance beyond natural levels.

Restoring ecosystems and relationships

Since co-founding Paepae o He‘eia in 2001, study co-author Hi‘ilei Kawelo, a sixth-generation Hawaiian from Kāne‘ohe Bay, has witnessed thousands of volunteers transform the He‘eia loko i‘a.

With the ongoing restoration, Paepae o He‘eia has seen both the aquatic environment and participants’ well-being improve with increased access to traditional foods, strengthening their relationship to place, and fortifying their family and community relationships. “For me and for a lot of our employees, this is one of our outlets, if not our primary outlet for exercising aloha ‘āina [love of the land],” Kawelo said.

“��Āina is so important, because it is a term for a system that has the nature and its people in an inseparable reciprocal relationship,” Winter said. “The concept is core to this work because it’s about getting back into a way of thinking where there is no separation between the lands, the waters and us.”

While the overarching goal of Paepae o He‘eia and other fishponds is to revitalize Hawai‘i’s extensive Indigenous aquaculture system, Kotubetey said he knows the work may take generations.

[b1asho]

So yeah, how to train your dragon is a big deal to me. I'm not going to watch the live action movie grrghhhhg

Here’s some design stuff? Headcanons?

I my head toothless is literally just that weird anchovie as a dragon. He buzzes around like a bug, and his species intentionally mimics common or gardens as a part of their life cycle on land. The only things that mark him out from the bazillion actual common garden subspecies are the blue wings and webbed feet. He looks all big headed and has no teeth because relative to that 1000 year life span, he’s just a fish fry.

Speaking of common or garden browns, I think it’d be funny if Horrorcow actually *was* herbivorous or mostly-herbivorous because that’s just what subspecies she was and the humans just can’t tell the difference because ’it’s a dragon it must eat meat duh’ and they lump all them together. Honestly it’s prolly for the best she peaces out to the caves for a bit, girl is not built for being in that close proximity to a Main Character.

Fireworm is just a bully, Rottweiler sized and classically dragonish. I tried not to think about making them all super realistic or thinking about how all their species could be related because the books don’t really do that super in depth and that’s part of the fun, so she just looks like a dragon (tm) even though the term dragon also covers things that have fur, or feathers, or produce milk, and look vastly different, Her claws are retractable and her leg spurs help fight off other monstrous nightmares. It’s so funny to me that she just immediately defects to the rebellion, it’s so in character even though she seems to have at least sorta vibed with snot.

I really liked drawing Stormfly as a kid, and the fact that she’s dragon meowth/ can just speak Norse because she can is also fun. She’s not feathery, those are like. Skin flaps or something that can move and change color. Very squirmy.

Windwalker is also one of my faves, I’m sad we didn’t get to see the metamorphosis but the mystery of it is also fun. It was also nice to see him start talking again after meeting hiccup. His ability to out-altitude other dragons is his species’ general hunting strategy and eventually his wings will straighten out (but his are in particularly bad shape because of his time working in the enclosed tunnels of the mines.) (Btw it's still crazy to me that dragon and human slavery is just a thing in the books and we just have to deal with it)

Wodensfang is that classic shriveled Old Man. I think that over time, they molt off their size (through literally freezing up, shrinking a little in a shell of their skin, melting bones and muscle and then coming out smaller, like the reverse of shedding skin to get bigger. Just don't think about it too hard, magic is basically canon here ) over time and leave the ocean to leave more room for the whippersnappers who are just coming in from the land. He’s missing most of his teeth, but the envenomed fangs still work.

I also have the book of dragons, it’d be fun to one day go through and draw all of them (I’ve already done that but those were on notebook paper and lost to time)

[adobe-outdesign]

I was gonna make a joke post about how the Spider Grundo's design has exactly 0 consistency to it but screw it I'll just rate them all right now

Due the way the legs are positioned the web would have to be in front of him here. Good leg shape though. 3 spiders out of 10

Same issue with the web except now the body anatomy and shading looks better. 4 spiders out of 10, it would be 5 but it loses a point for forgetting the black window mark

Web is still wrong but the anatomy and pose of this one is great and I like the cat smile thing he has going on. 8 spiders out of 10

WHY is he so ripped. 0 spiders out of 10

MASSIVE CHUNGUS. Not sure how I feel about him having that many teeth. 8 spiders out of 10

There's only so many times I can say the web placement makes no sense so instead I'm just going to point out that having his head directly merged with his body into one round shape looks really weird. 2 spiders out of 10

Lack of head/body separation is still slightly bothersome here but slightly less noticeable. Antennae feel weirdly small?? I like the lime green color though, it has good contrast with the red. Also has a good mouth shape. 6 spiders of out 10

TNT finally learned how to have him standing ON his web instead of floating in front of it. Really like the pose and legs here along with the general anatomy. I guess the clothing makes sense as Neopets are anthro these days and him being a giant spider was bad enough without him being a nude giant spider. I do miss the marking though. 9 spiders out of 10

[k-nayee]

Like Father, Like Hellspawn Deadpool i

wc: 3.6k a/n: soooo I got a little inspired by Eleanor Camacho aka (Earth-616) Deadpool's daughter 👉🏾👈🏾 hope ya likely☺️

Traveler M.List

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ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

You stand still in front of the memorial, arms crossed tightly over your chest, fingers digging into the thick red-and-black fabric of his suit. Well, not exactly.

It’s yours now; tailored to fit your frame, stitched up more times than you can count. But it’s identical to his in every way that matters.

The mask is already on, the lenses hiding your eyes, but you swear if you weren’t wearing it you’d probably look like a kicked puppy right now.

(Not the aesthetic you’re going for really.)

The room is quiet. Too quiet.

It’s the kind of silence that wraps around you like a weighted blanket, but instead of comfort it’s suffocating—pressing down and making it hard to breathe.

But then again maybe that’s just you.

Your gaze locks onto the suit hanging on the mannequin. A perfect, untouched replica of what you’re wearing now. The fabric is pristine, the colors vibrant, and the mask—God the mask—stares back at you, hollow and empty.

Just an empty shell meant to honor someone who used to be here but isn’t anymore. (Because he's dead. Duh.)

Your fingers tighten around the worn edges of his mask—your mask now. The piece that still smells like gunpowder and...is that a hint of chimichanga grease? You wouldn’t be surprised. The guy could find a way to snack in the middle of a fistfight.

It’s been years since you lost him.

Since your Wade Wilson—your father, your mentor, your occasional bad influence but with good intentions—left you behind in Earth-617.

A framed photo hangs above the suit. You know that image by heart: Your dad giving the camera a peace-sign in front of a completely unnecessary explosion, his mask pulled up just enough to show his stupid lopsided grin.

You’d snapped that picture yourself, back when things were still good. Back when he was still alive.

Your fingers twitch at your sides.

You never really stopped missing him. Even after taking up his mantle. Even after convincing the world that you were nothing more than a simple storeowner-slash-businesswoman, all while secretly doing what he did best—kicking ass and saying jokes at wildly inappropriate moments.

Hell you even had a thing going with Spider-Man for a while. Oh God. If your dad had been alive for that one...

You exhale, shaking your head at the thought. Wade would have been jealous, and not just in the “you stole my bro” kind of way.

No he’d be throwing a full-on tantrum because you—his own flesh and blood—got to go on date-night web swings and crime-fighting rendezvous with Spidey. He’d have demanded details.

You smile at that. A real one. The kind that doesn’t last long before reality sets back in.

Because Wade’s not here. He never will be. No matter how many mercenary gigs you take or how many people you save—there’s still that gaping hole inside of you where he used to be.

None of it filled the void.

Which is where the shiny, probably unstable, possibly explodey Dimensional Warp Generator comes in. You look at the clunky questionably wired contraption humming behind you.

Its design is...questionable at best.

The thing looks like a cross between a busted washing machine and an overworked coffee maker, but according to the stolen blueprints it should technically work.

Hopefully.

Probably.

Maybe.

"Okay so best-case scenario: I step on, press the button and BAM—multiversal road trip baby!" You gesture dramatically, speaking to no one but the memorial and the ghost of your own questionable decisions. "Worst case scenario: I get turned into a fine red mist. Meat confetti if you will." You pause. "Or maybe I just end up in some dimension where everyone is a sentient toenail. Ew."

The mannequin doesn’t respond. Obviously.

You know it’s a gamble. A one-way trip. A ticket to somewhere, anywhere Wade Wilson is still breathing. The multiverse is full of infinite versions of him after all.

Maybe you’ll find one that never lost his healing factor.

Maybe you’ll find one who retired and opened a taco truck, living his best chimichanga-filled life.

Or maybe you’ll land in a world where he never had a kid at all...where he never even knew you existed.

Would that be worse?

You don’t know.

But what you do know is that standing here filled with 'what ifs' feels worse than any multiversal mishap could ever be.

So, you made your peace. You left instructions and planned for it all. Your family business? Taken care of. Your assets? Secured. Your people? Safe. You made sure of it before you even considered pushing this far.

Because if it works...

If it actually works...

You’ll see him again.

Not your Wade—no. He’s gone. But a Wade. 

You sigh, shaking your head as you let your fingers trail lightly over his display suit. It feels wrong that it’s here. Because Wade Wilson was never meant to be preserved like some historical artifact.

He was meant to be alive—chaotic, reckless, cracking wise even when everything was going to shit. So maybe...just maybe...if you find another version of him you can make sure he stays that way.

You don’t care about changing events. You don’t care about destiny or timelines or multiversal consequences. This isn’t about that. This is about you.

And what matters to you is that he exists somewhere. Somewhere you can see him again. Where you can hear his voice. Where you can fight side by side. Where you can...

You swallow hard.

Where you can patch up the hole in your chest just a little bit.

You roll your shoulders, exhaling a slow breath through your mask. Then, because old habits die hard, you give the photo on the wall a lazy finger gun. "Well Dad...guess I’m about to make the most irresponsible decision of my career. You’d be so proud."

Then, because you have to, because it wouldn't be right not to, turn to the mannequin and slap its ass.

"Good game," you say, nodding in solemn approval.

The silence that follows is deafening.

Right. Time to go.

You turn and walk toward the generator, boots thudding softly against the concrete floor. Your heartbeat picks up, an anxious drumbeat in your ears, but your hands stay steady as they hover over the big suspiciously red button.

This is it.

This is the moment.

With one last deep breath, you press down.

The machine roars to life. Lights flicker wildly, the air crackling with static. The world itself seems to shudder and twist at the edges of your vision.

"Geronimo motherfu—"

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

The world comes back in pieces.

For a second—maybe longer, maybe shorter—there's nothing. No sound, no sensation. Just empty darkness that wraps around you like a suffocating blanket.

Then suddenly—

Your body lurches forward as reality slams back into place.

A rush of cool air bites through your suit, your boots scrape against concrete, and the dull hum of a city fills your ears. The scent of exhaust, street food, and something vaguely unpleasant—sewage?—hits your nose.

You blink as you try to steady yourself.

The world is intact. Not torn apart, not an apocalyptic wasteland. Normal.

Which is...weird.

You were prepared for something worse. A wrong world maybe. Something out of sync, a reality where everything was twisted just enough to feel unnatural. But this? This just looks like...

Home.

Except it isn’t.

Your muscles stay tense, fingers twitching slightly at your sides. The city looks familiar—too familiar. A near-identical match to the one you left behind, yet it isn’t yours. You can feel it deep in your bones, the way the air hums just a little differently.

You’re here....wherever here is.

A flicker of movement catches your eye. You turn your head slightly, noticing the large glass windows of a bank to your right. The reflection stares back at you.

Red and black.

The Deadpool suit—your suit—fits snug against your body, every stitch and fold in place. A mirror image of the one your father used to wear save for the minor adjustments that made it yours.

Then—

REEEEEEEEEEE

A sharp shrill alarm slices through the air, shattering the illusion of calm like a bullet through glass. Your head snaps to the source—the bank's heavy doors swing open as men in ski masks stumble out, their arms weighed down with overstuffed duffel bags.

You blink.

Oh. Well that’s convenient.

Their frantic adrenaline-fueled energy shifts the second they see you. They freeze, eyes widening beneath their masks. You can practically hear their thoughts scrambling like rats in a sinking ship.

They stare.

You stare back.

For a long awkward beat nobody moves.

Then one of them shouts something—probably a curse—his wide eyes locked onto you like he’s just seen a ghost. The others panic, some reaching for weapons, some just freezing like deer in headlights.

But then their eyes actually see you. The curves..the way your body fills out the suit differently.

"Oh shit wait...it’s a chick."

The tension visibly loosens. The men relax, confusion overriding fear, realization settling in. You can feel the shift in the air.

You tilt your head. "Wow. Sexism and crime? Y’all are multitaskers—love that. But hey before we go any further—uh...did any of you happen to rob a father figure along with that bank? Maybe a guy, about yay high, real talkative, looks like a diseased avocado? Asking for...me."

They don’t get the chance to answer.

The sharp screech of tires cuts through the moment. A police cruiser skids to a stop just feet away. Two officers leap out, hands on their guns, voices sharp. "Stop! Put your hands where I can see—"

You sigh dramatically. "You cops always ruin the moment. Like seriously, we were having a thing here. And now it’s all guns and arrest warrants."

They weren't listening. One of them reaches for his radio. “We’ve got a situation here down at the bank wit—”

BANG

A bullet tears through his skull before he can finish the sentence.

The second officer barely has time to react before a blade pierces her throat, slicing cleanly before you yank it free. She chokes, gurgles, then crumples like a puppet with its strings cut.

You wipe a bit of blood off your arm, flicking it onto the ground like it’s nothing more than an inconvenience.

Ugh. Police blood. The worst kind.

As you stand up, you hear a low rasp leaving the officer as blood pools out her mouth. "Deadpool..."

You perk up.

Bingo.

So he does exist here.

Your fingers flex, heart pounding as your mask hides the slow wicked grin stretching across your lips.

Well...

That makes things easier.

Before you could say another word—

More sirens. More cops, pulling up fast.

The robbers panicked. Shouts leave them as their loaded guns suddenly became shaky. They weren’t ready.

But you were.

The moment the cops the slammed open their doors with raised weapons you moved.

And oh did you move.

You weren’t just fast. You were precise.

Every step, every motion, every flick of your wrist was calculated. The first officer barely took a step before you immediately fired three shots—knee, shoulder, wrist.

Two other officers went down before their fingers even tightened on their triggers.

You pivoted low and swept a leg out—an officer hit the street, head cracking against concrete as you relieved him of his gun and smoothly tossed it into the air, catching it in a backward grip as you fired behind you—

BANG

Another officer. Another down.

They kept coming. You welcomed it.

The world blurred into sharp adrenaline-fueled focus. Bullets zipped past your head, but your body moved on its own, your enhanced cognition picking up details faster than they could react.

A cop adjusting her stance—she’s aiming for your ribs. A twitch of a finger—someone’s about to fire. A shift in balance—someone’s going for their radio.

Nope. No ma'am. Not today.

Your guns clicked empty. Doesn’t matter. You threw one with perfect accuracy—CRACK. It slammed into an officer’s temple knocking her out cold. The other?

You flipped in your grip, grabbed the barrel, and used it to bludgeon another into unconsciousness before spinning and delivering a brutal elbow to the last one standing.

A dozen officers. All neutralized in less than ninety seconds.

It was messy. It was brutal. It was quick.

And it was fun.

"Alright boys," You turn back to the robbers, a new glint in your eyes as you sheath your katana and gun. "Change of plans. I was gonna spend the next however-many-months hunting my old man down, but honestly? That sounds exhausting. So instead—" You throw an arm around the nearest criminal, pulling him in. "—how ‘bout I just do crimes until he finds me?"

They exchange hesitant glances.

You can see the skepticism. The weighing of pros and cons. The uncertainty of letting some Deadpool knockoff join their ranks.

Then you sigh and make the decision for them.

With an almost lazy kind of efficiency, you move—disarming, subduing, killing one just for fun. Within seconds the ones left standing know better than to say no.

"Okay okay you can join!" he wheezes, clutching his newly dislocated shoulder. "Damn lady what’s your deal?! You tryna be Deadpool’s copycat or something?"

You grin beneath your mask.

"Oh honey," you coo, "I'm so much worse."

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

Turns out they weren’t just bank robbers.

This wasn’t just a handful of small-time criminals looking for a quick payday—it was an entire crime organization clawing its way up the underworld ranks.

And with you in their arsenal, business was booming.

Crime sprees ran rampant. It wasn’t long before your exploits—masked, bloodstained, and unapologetically violent—became the subject of city-wide gossip.

Tabloids screamed about Deadpool’s sudden change.

You loved it.

Scrolling through online gossip forums was your new favorite pastime, watching people spiral into conspiracy theories:

"DEADPOOL MIND-CONTROLLED?"

"DEADPOOL GOING THROUGH HIS VILLAIN ERA™️?"

"DEADPOOL TIRED OF THE HERO CHARADE?” Some people swore it wasn’t him—“DEADPOOL...SHORTER?!”

Others didn’t care. To the world you were Deadpool. You’d made sure of that, hiding your figure under a long trench coat, avoiding any direct combat with Wade’s team whenever they did get involved in your organization’s little...projects.

You were a ghost. A rumor. A nightmare with guns.

And Wade? He was pissed.

You’d seen the interviews, the tirades he’d gone on during what should’ve been simple bounty jobs. Wade Wilson, the Deadpool, losing his shit on camera about some asshole using his name and ruining his “hard-earned” reputation.

(As if he ever fixed it in the first place? Please.)

You laughed every time. It was almost too easy.

Shame you couldn't use your own phone to watch it all—unable to connect to this world’s satellites (frequency issues, because of course) so you had to acquire other means. Luckily criminals have great taste in stolen electronics.

Speaking of criminals, seems you’d made yourself too valuable to the organization to get thrown out. The boss—a greasy smooth-talking bastard named Salvatore "Sal" DeLuca—liked results, and you brought them.

But there was one rule you made clear the moment you took the job: Nobody mentions your gender.

And if they ever had to refer to you, they called you Deadpool.

Sal agreed without hesitation. He was good at playing the long game and you were the biggest wildcard he had in his deck. His men though? They whispered....wondered.

But the rule was ironclad; if they let slip that Deadpool was anything other than what you projected—they disappeared. Simple as that.

And so, for three months, it worked.

Until her.

You’d been watching her for some time.

A new recruit—quiet, kept to herself. Didn’t quite fit the mold of a career criminal.

You noticed her immediately.

Maybe it was the way she held herself, too rigid and restrained. Maybe it was the way she avoided eye contact when people talked about bigger plans. Or maybe it was just instinct.

So you bugged her. Literally. Tiny discreet surveillance planted in her things, her living space, her routine. And what do you know?

You were right. She was a full-blown informant. A mole who worked for the police.

Correction: she worked for Wade’s team. And her name was Yukio.

You could’ve exposed her. You could've warned Sal. But you didn’t. Because this?

This was what you’d been waiting for.

.*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*

A deal.

A simple trade-off of drugs, weapons, and money. The usual.

The warehouse was dimly lit, the air thick with cigarette smoke and the sharp tang of cheap cologne. Low voices murmured across the space from dealers to the occasional trigger-happy lackey trying to prove himself.

You didn’t care.

Lounging lazily in a rickety chair nearby, your legs were kicked up up on a table littered with money and gun magazines, eyes glued to your real priority: beating the final boss in Pokémon.

The Nintendo 3DS glowed faintly in your hands. (You’d robbed a nerd for this. He cried. It was great.) Its tiny speakers crackled with the upbeat jingle—stark and ridiculous contrast to the hard-edged criminals around you.

They often looked to you for some kind of assurance, that everything was going smoothly. But you weren’t their leader. You were just the guarantee.

The insurance that ensured the deal went well—because if it didn’t, nobody walked out.

And you were bored.

Yukio stood nearby, hands tucked into her sleeves with an unreadable expression. She was small and unassuming. Harmless to most eyes.

But not to you.

You knew what she was. Who she was. And that meant this deal wasn’t going to finish.

Just as you were about to land the final hit to the boss—

BOOM

The front doors detonated inward, a shockwave of dust and debris sweeping through the warehouse like a tidal wave.

The rival gang didn’t even have time to react.

Bullets ripped through them, splattering red against the walls before most even reached for their weapons. The few that did weren’t fast enough—a streak of yellow and black tore through their ranks like a living razor blade.

Logan.

The Wolverine’s claws sang through the air, slicing through flesh and bone with gruesome efficiency. A man screamed was cut short as his head separated cleanly from his shoulders and rolled to the floor with a wet thud.

Yukio moved the second the attack began.

One moment she was among your men. The next her hand sparked with electricity and she tore into them like a ghost of lightning.

The criminals you had worked beside for months were dying.

And you?

You didn’t move.

In fact you barely heard the scrambling panic around you. Your grip on the 3DS went slack, it tumbled to the ground, clattering loudly. You didn’t even notice.

Because he was here.

Deadpool...

Your father

He stood there at the center of the chaos; twin pistols raised, blades strapped to his back, mask tilted just slightly in that familiar cocky way.

The exact same mask as yours.

Your pulse spiked. You should’ve done something—anything—but you couldn’t move.

The mask...the stance....the voice.

God the voice.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Wade bellowed as he shot through a particularly unlucky gangster. “For years—YEARS—I have been trying become a better, CLASSY respectable mercenary!!”

(He absolutely did not.)

“Yet somehow, someway some ASSHOLE decides to drag my name through blood-soaked crime-encrusted filth like we’re in some goddamn GTA roleplay server?!” His arms flailed wildly as he stomped forward, stepping over a twitching half-dead body without a second glance.

“DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY DEATH THREATS I’VE GOTTEN THIS WEEK?!”

(As if that wasn’t normal for him.)

Everything around you had blurred at this point. The violence didn’t matter. The screaming didn’t matter. The years of grief and loss and loneliness—

None of it mattered.

“—and what really gets me—truly grinds my gears—is that some DICKHEAD is using my likeness to make me look bad when I’ve worked so hard to be good! I HAVE A BRAND TO UPHOLD!”

Sal was hissing something at you to snap you out of it. Hell all of the men in the entire organization were looking at you. Because for the first time in three months, you weren’t moving.

“WELL??” Deadpool’s rant came to an abrupt end as he threw his arms out. “What do you have to say for yourself?!”

Silence.

Then—

You stood up.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

The chair scraped against the concrete floor as you pushed away from it, the tension so thick it could suffocate.

Your hands came together and you began clapping.

One slow clap.

Another.

Then faster until it built into an exaggerated standing ovation. "Wow." Your voice dripped with emotion. "I..am speechless. A performance worthy of the Oscars really. I truly have no words except—"

Before anyone could react, you drew both guns in a single fluid motion and opened fire.

BANG

The first gunshot took Sal’s head clean off. His body was still standing, nerves firing uselessly even as his brain matter sprayed across the crates behind him.

BANG BANG BANG

Bullets fly and bodies drop.

The remaining rival gang? Erased.

Your so-called allies? Wiped off the map.

Some ducked for cover. Some tried to run. None of them made it far. You moved through them like a force of nature; spinning between targets, every shot landing with surgical precision.

Deadpool’s team flinched. For a split second they genuinely believed you were about to shoot at them.

Instead?

You erased every last member of the organization—the very one you had helped build up for weeks—in a perfectly executed, single-handed massacre.

The only sound left was the ringing echo of gunfire.

Your guns clicked as you brought the smoking barrels to your face to inhale the scent like it was oxygen. "Oh yeah, that's the good stuff..."

Finally holstering your weapons, you turned to Deadpool with a grin beneath your mask. A mask that was a perfect mirror image of his.

You practically bounced over to him as casual as someone greeting an old friend.

Then, in the most cheerful, sing-song voice imaginable, you threw your hands up your hands like a child and chirped—

"HI DADDY!!"

[redstarwriting]

happy birthday

miles morales x reader

request?: yes

request: “I LOVEDDD THE HC’S OMG OMG WORK OF ART!!! i was wondering if you would write something expanding on getting miles’ doodles tatted as an adult!! i would love to read more abt it, it’s so cutee”

requested by: anon​

word count: 2.2k

genre: fluff

Warnings: language, tattoos, mentions of tattoos and needles, Miles is so sweet it's sick

A/N: GLADLY!! i've been itching to get a new tattoo since the minute i got my first like three years ago and writing this just made me want to get another one so bad LMAO. i hope you enjoy!

also in case you were wondering what hcs anon is talking about, it's my pda/general affection hcs i wrote for hobie and miles! you can check it out here if you haven't already and feel compelled to :)

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“Miles! Baby, can you give me a tattoo?” you ask, and he smiles. This has become a common practice in your relationship. From the time y’all were kids in love to now, you would always ask him for a tattoo. Of course, he didn’t actually give you tattoos, he just drew on your arm. He’s mentioned you, and even urged you, to get a tattoo every now and again. Especially when he offered to design them, but you always say his temporary ones are more special than any other tattoo you could get. He isn’t upset about it. He genuinely loves drawing on you. “Of course, babe. Come here,” he says, motioning you over to him as he grabs his markers he has specifically for your “tattoos.” You go over to him, sitting between his legs and extending your arm. “Can you draw it right next to the uh… elbow pit?” you say, and he laughs. “Elbow pit?”

“Yeah, like the inside of my arm and not on the bicep part or the elbow pit part, but the forearm part by the elbow pit,” you explain, pointing to the area you’re talking about. He chuckles. “Elbow pit.”

“Well, what else would it be called?” you ask, smiling, and he grins, starting to doodle on your arm. “I’ll text and ask my mom what the scientific name for it is after I’m done here,” he says, and you lean your head back against his shoulder. “Oh, god, please don’t tell her I called it an elbow pit.”

“Oh, I’m totally telling her you called it that,” he teases, placing a quick peck on your lips before returning his attention to your arm. He draws a spiderweb, of course, but in the shape of a heart. He adds his Miles touch to it by making it look like the web was spraypainted, and having it pop with black and red. You don’t even look at the tattoo as he draws it, you just stare at his face. You love watching him when he does his art. You assume it’s similar to the way his face looks when he’s swinging around the city as Spider-Man. He’s in his element, laser-focused and yet has an ease about him that mesmerizes you. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says, smirking and turning his attention to you. You feel your face heat up but roll your eyes. “Can’t, arm’s a bit preoccupied.”

“You can get creative; I have an idea. Maybe use the one I’m not drawing on?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, and he shakes his head. “What do you think, amor?” he asks, and you look. You smile. “I love it, Miles. Thank you,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He grins, wrapping his arms around your waist as you admire his art. “What time is it?” you ask, and he glances at his phone. “11:15. Why?” 

“Ganke and I are gonna go get some lunch today.”

“Should I be worried?” Miles jokes. “No, dummy. We’re just talking about… something happening soon,” you say, and a sly smile spreads across Miles’ face. “How soon?”

“I’ve said too much,” you say, trying to get up. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is Spider-Man and can easily hold you in place. “Nuh uh, how soon is this something happening?” he looks at you with a shit-eating grin, and you roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know, spider boy?”

“I would. Is it, and this is just a wild guess… something happening tomorrow? A special something happening on a very special day?” he guesses, and you sigh. “Don’t tell Ganke you found out…”

“I knew it!”

“We’re supposed to be planning your birthday party, yes. For tomorrow. On your birthday. Are you happy you spoiled it for yourself now?” you feign annoyance, and he laughs. “I am, actually. Now I know to look good for you tomorrow.” You roll your eyes. “You always look nice, Miles.”

“Only for you,” he grins at you, turning your face to look at him. The two of you share a kiss before it’s interrupted by his police scanner going off. He frowns slightly. “It’s okay, Miles. I gotta go soon anyways,” you give him a quick peck for squeezing out of his arms. He sighs. “Fine, fine. Guess I’ll go save the city. Be the best thing that ever happened to New York and all that.”

“My hero,” you joke, and he grins. “You know it,” he says, slipping his mask on and sliding his everyday clothes off. “I’ll see you later, Miles. Stay safe. Love you.”

“You stay safe, too. Love you more.” He leaps out of the window, and you make sure he’s gone before you call Ganke. “Yo, what’s up?”

“You gotta plan Miles’ birthday party tomorrow.”

“Woah, what?” You sigh. “I already have the roof of our building booked out for it, I ordered the cake already and will pick it up tomorrow and have all the decorations. You just need to invite everyone, okay?”

“You mean I have to reach out to people in different dimensions, tell them to clear their schedules for tomorrow, and hope for the best?” Ganke asks, and you hum into the phone. “Yep! Thanks, Ganke! Also, if Miles asks, we went and got lunch, okay?”

“And where are you really going?”

“I’m getting a tattoo to surprise him for his birthday tomorrow,” you say, grabbing your keys and putting some money in your pocket. You put Ganke on speaker, sending a quick text to Hobie. “You need to stop using me as a cover-up, (Y/n).”

“Who else am I supposed to use? Gwen?” you say, and Ganke sighs. “I mean, yeah, you know she would be down to help you with something like this.”

“Ganke she is so bad at keeping secrets like that, and you know it,” you say, admiring the art on your arm again. “Then use Hobie.”

“Wait that’s actually a good idea,” you say, “Especially since he’s the one giving me the tattoo.”

“AND YOU STILL USED ME?!”

“I PANICKED! He was asking questions! Just, listen, invite as many people as you can think of, alright? Please, and thank you.”

“Fine. Go get inked or whatever they say,” Ganke says. The two of you give some quick goodbyes before hanging up. You receive a reply from Hobie, and a portal opens in Miles and your bedroom. You step through it and find yourself in Hobie’s flat. “Can I just say it’s about damn time you got one of ‘is works tattooed onto ya,” Hobie says, motioning to his couch. You sit and he gets his whole get-up ready, all the cleaning wipes and gloves and the tattoo gun all ready to go. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m getting it now and that’s what matters,” you say, and he clicks his tongue. “I can guarantee ya this is just gonna be the beginning. Kinda becomes an addiction,” he says, sitting next to you, and fiddling with his gun. “Then I guess I’ll just need to have Miles draw on me even more.” He chuckles. “Lemme see it.”

You show him the drawing, and Hobie shakes his head. “Your man is corny,” he says, and you shrug. “I like it.”

“I know,” he dips his gun in ink, and looks at you, “Ya ready?” You nod, and he begins tattooing Miles’ art onto your skin. The two of you talk the whole time, really, and you let him know about the party tomorrow. He, of course, agrees to come, and can’t wait to see Miles’ reaction. It takes a few hours, but eventually he finishes up and it looks exactly like Miles just drew it on your skin. Hobie places fake skin over it and gives you the rundown of how to take care of it. He turns away from you to put something away, and you quickly slip $100 under a pillow on the couch. You know he won’t accept any money from you because he’s ‘not a capitalist pig,’ so you have to be sneaky with it. “Thank you so much, Hobie,” you say, and he winks at you. “Anythin’ for my mate’s better ‘alf.”

He opens the portal again, and you two say bye until tomorrow. You’re back home, literally, in no time, and you quickly throw one of the hoodies Miles left lying around on. This way he won’t see the tattoo, and you can play it off like you missed him. Especially since you did kind of miss him and it is sort of a staple in your relationship that you wear his clothes when you do. That’ll make him melt and he’ll forget all about the art on your arm. And you were absolutely right. 

It ended up being a late night for Spider-Man, and when he got home, he saw you curled up on the couch, sleeping with his hoodie on, and all he could think about was that you missed him. He carefully picked you up and carried you to your shared bed. You started to wake up as soon as he was getting in bed after taking a shower and cleaning up, and he began desperately trying to get you to go back to sleep. “What time is it?” you groggily ask. “It’s like 3am, (Y/n/n), I’m here now, we can go to sleep, okay?” he says, slipping into bed next to you and pulling you on top of his chest. “Happy birthday!” you sleepily say, burying your face into his chest. He smiles. “Thank you, amor. Let’s get back to sleep now, yeah?” You make a muffled mmhmm sound and are out like a light almost immediately. Miles smiles to himself, wondering how he got this lucky.

You can imagine his disappointment when he wakes up the next day and you’re not snug against his chest, but he feels better the minute he sees a little note on his chest that explains you’ll be home, you just had to go do something for him. He gets up and decided he can do his Spider-Man duties until you text him and let him know he needs to come home. It may be his birthday, but the city still needs it’s defender. So that’s exactly what he does. He cannot explain how grateful he is that none of the big bads were trying to start anything today, because if he didn’t get to see you and eat a slice of cake, he was going to scream. The day went slower than he wanted but also sped by when eventually he got a text from you saying to come home. He immediately obliges, swinging in through the window and putting on some of his nicest clothes. He walks out of your room and sees you chilling on the couch. “Miss me?” he asks, walking over and bending down to kiss your lips. You giggle. “Obviously. Hey, before we go up to the roof where there totally isn’t a party waiting for you, I wanna show you something, okay?”

“Okay,” he grins, and you grin back. “Cover your eyes.” He does as instructed, and hears you shift slightly. “Okay… open them.” He opens his eyes, and immediately sees his “tattoo” on your arm. Only it was covered in a clear wrap. And it’s real. His eyes get big, and he looks at your face. You give a small smile. “You always encouraged me to get a real tattoo, so… happy birthday.”

“Yo! It looks so good, hold up,” he gently grabs your arm and softly traces it through the saniderm. “When did you get this?”

“Yesterday.”

“You weren’t actually with Ganke, were you?”

“No, I was with Hobie,” you say, and he shakes his head. “I got a little liar on my hands, huh?”

“It wasn’t lying it was covering my ass because you ask too many damn questions,” you say, and he laughs. “I love it, (Y/n/n).” You smile and the two of you share a kiss. “We should probably get up there. Some people are waiting. Oh, and pretend like you haven’t seen it yet. Hobie wants to see your reaction.” Miles laughs. “Alright. Well, I hope he knows I’m not gonna stop drawing on you. And that he fully traced my art,” Miles says, and you shake your head. “I’m sure he knows, Miles. You really like it?”

“Like it? Baby, I told you I love it. I love you; I love this tattoo; I love that this is a birthday present from you… everything about this? I love it. I don’t even need to go up there to make the day better because all I need is you,” he says, and you smile. “Hobie was right. You’re so corny.”

“Nah, hold on, he said that? Forget everything I just said it’ll be a perfect day when I punch him.” You laugh as the two of you make your way up to the party. But the whole time, Miles keeps finding his eyes drifting to your tattoo. Something about having his art on you permanently makes his heart swell with pride and happiness. And he and Hobie were both right.

It’s not the only “tattoo” that will become real.

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[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #06 死

† charming forks †

"In Kkangpae, respect is earned in blood—even if it's just from a fork to the palm. But it's the hurricane brewing in Jeon's eyes as he watches you handle yourself that has you wondering if maybe there's more than one way to catch an assassin's attention."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 5k

rating: mature

content: croissant speculations, bestie gossip, AD being a menace, sope behaving like a married couple, fork-y confrontations and Jeon’s curiosity being piqued (because apparently man’s got other emotions apart from his default stick-up-his-ass one).

☠ author's note ☠

WAIT WHAT?! IS IT POSSIBLE?!

JEON HAS...

*whispers dramatically* F E E L I N G S?!

Did our resident ice prince really look at someone with something other than his patented "I'd rather be literally anywhere else including possibly on fire" expression?!

Okay, in all seriousness—stop coming for my boy. I can FEEL some of you judging him through the screen. He has feelings! They're just... buried... under several layers of trauma, bad decisions, and leather jackets. You'll understand him better eventually, I promise. Maybe. If I'm feeling generous. Which I rarely am (￣︶￣)

Here's the thing: I make my characters complicated on purpose. Humans are messy little disaster creatures, and I want my characters to reflect that beautiful chaotic energy. Everyone's actions are based on the personalities and backstories I've created—some of which you have NO idea about yet. *laughs maniacally* Every character has nuances, and I really hope I'm portraying that properly. Watch me stress about character development at 3 AM while chain-drinking tea because coffee stopped working six chapters ago.

ANYWAY! AD HAS ENTERED THE CHAT. The chaotic technology gremlin of my heart! And Sope's dynamic? *chef's kiss* Two cranky old men pretending they don't care about each other while absolutely caring about each other? BEAUTIFUL. MWAH.

I know it's hard to picture everything now because you're just getting the tiniest glimpse of all these relationships. But trust me, there's an intricate web of backstory that you'll discover eventually. Have fun grasping at straws in the meantime because I'm not making it easy for you! Where's the fun if you know everything THIS SOON?!

THERE IS NONE!!!

So hang tight, be patient, and maybe save those curse words for later chapters. Trust me, you're gonna need them. I have PLANS. *ominous music plays*

Love you all, you disaster enablers. Stay hydrated!

⚔ socials ⚔

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Your crutches click-clack against the stone floors of the castle, and it's weird how normal this feels—hobbling through what used to be some fancy abandoned castle and is now home to South Korea's deadliest gang. Nobody even looks twice at you. Then again, in a place where missing fingers are basically fashion statements, a sprained ankle's hardly worth noticing.

The infirmary door swings shut behind you, cutting off the sharp smell of antiseptic and the muffled sounds of people who definitely had worse mornings than you. The hallway feels almost peaceful in comparison. Almost.

The elevator dings, and suddenly you're face to face with what looks like pure rage wrapped in a hoodie. He storms out like the elevator personally offended him, all baggy clothes and barely contained fury. The track pants and oversized hoodie stand out here—most gang members dress to intimidate, but this guy looks ready for a gaming marathon.

You freeze, crutches awkward under your arms, as he practically radiates "don't talk to me" energy into the hallway. Something about him seems familiar, though you've definitely never met. He brushes past you, and the scent of fresh lemons hits your nose—which is when it clicks.

AD. The genius behind Cyber Intelligence. The guy who designed the security system that keeps rival gangs from turning this place into Swiss cheese. His reputation around here is... interesting. Brilliant but brutal, the kind of person who'd hack your phone just because you breathed too loud near his workspace.

You shuffle into the elevator, trying not to drop your crutches or your dignity. Your card beeps against the scanner, and you hit the button for the fourth floor—home sweet home, or at least as sweet as a gang's seduction division can be.

The doors start closing, giving you one last glimpse of AD's retreating back. The whole encounter probably lasted thirty seconds, but it sticks in your mind. You've heard stories about him—how he practically lives in his division's "gamer cave," how he's as loyal to Kkangpae as he is allergic to basic human interaction.

The elevator hums around you, and you can't help wondering what pushed his buttons today. Guy looked ready to set something on fire with his mind. Though maybe that's just his face. Hard to tell with the Council of 9 sometimes—they've all got enough trauma to keep a therapy practice in business for decades.

When the doors open to your floor, the familiar buzz of the Seduction Division wraps around you like a blanket. Back to your world of honey traps and carefully crafted lies. Still, you can't quite shake the image of AD's fury from your mind. 

Guess that's life in Kkangpae—even a simple trip to the infirmary can turn into an encounter with one of the gang's most notorious leaders.

The Seduction Division's floor buzzes with its usual afternoon energy as you hobble through on your crutches. Half your colleagues are sprawled across the common area sofas, deep in mission talk, while others practice their best "come hither" looks in the wall-length mirrors. Just another Tuesday in the art of professional manipulation.

Kazuha doesn't even look up from her iPad as you pass, that wine-red hair falling in perfect waves around her face. She gives you a quick nod though—which, coming from her, might as well be a bear hug. The girl's got that whole "ice queen who could definitely ruin your life but chooses not to" vibe down to an art.

Your shared room feels like heaven after all the hopping around on crutches. Yunjin's exactly where you expected—spread out on her bed like a pink-haired starfish, head hanging off the foot end while she watches what looks like another one of those melodramas she's obsessed with. The contrast between her bubblegum hair and the pastel yellow bedding is probably giving interior designers somewhere an aneurysm.

She brightens up when she spots you, hitting pause mid-dramatic confession scene. "How was medical training?" She twists around to face you, and you can tell she's dying for some good gossip. "Did J-Hope make you practice on oranges?"

"Nah, straight to fake skin." You drop onto your bed, grateful to finally get off your feet. "Though he did spend like twenty minutes ranting about how everyone in this gang stitches like they're drunk toddlers with safety scissors."

The memory makes you laugh. For someone who literally saves lives for a living, J-Hope's got the bedside manner of a grumpy cat. Though you guess when you're dealing with gang members who think they're immortal, maybe being nice stopped working a long time ago.

"Oh!" You perk up, remembering the best part of your morning. "You'll never guess who showed up while I was there."

Yunjin's eyes go wide with interest. She's always been a sucker for castle drama.

"Jeon." You try to keep your voice casual, like you're not still thinking about how he looked without his shirt on. t̶o̶r̶s̶o̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶g̶o̶d̶s̶

Yunjin bolts upright so fast her pink hair whips around her face. "No way. Jeon? What happened?"

"Medical checkup." You grin at how invested she already looks. "You should've seen how much he didn't want to be there."

You can still picture it perfectly—the way he filled the doorway like some dark cloud of attitude, all black clothes and that stupid leather jacket. Even his quick scan of the room felt dismissive, like everything beneath his notice was personally offending him.

"But here's the weird part." You lean in closer, lowering your voice like you're sharing state secrets. "You know how he's usually all... you know, Jeon? Like someone carved him from ice?"

Yunjin nods eagerly.

"Complete different person around J-Hope. I mean, still grumpy as hell, but like... almost human? It was like watching a statue learn to bend."

"Jeon?" Yunjin's eyes go wide. "Are we talking about the same person? Mr. I-Take-Orders-From-Nobody?"

"Oh, it gets better." You can't help the laugh that bubbles up. "He brought J-Hope a croissant."

"A croi—wait." Yunjin sits up straighter. "Oh my god, that explains this morning!"

You raise an eyebrow. "What about this morning?"

"Okay, so you know how he's basically married to that coffee machine, right?"

"First cup of the day, every day," you confirm. Everyone knows that—it's like some weird ritual. The sun rises, birds sing, and Jeon appears to claim the first coffee like it's his divine right.

"Well." Yunjin's practically vibrating with excitement now. "Me and Kazuha were having breakfast, and there he was, just... lurking by the pastries. Like, full-on stalking them. We started betting on what he'd pick because honestly? What else do you do when one of the gang leaders is having an existential crisis over baked goods?"

You frown, something not quite adding up. "Wait, he told J-Hope it was the last pastry left."

"Bullshit." Yunjin flops onto her back, pink hair spreading across her pillow like cotton candy. "It wasn't even 7 AM. The breakfast spread was packed—Kazuha and I had front row seats to his whole pastry-hunting performance."

She stares at the ceiling for a moment, like she's replaying the scene in her head. "Actually... now that I think about it, he was really focused on the croissants. Like, weirdly focused. Standing there analyzing them like they held the secrets of the universe or something."

You both fall quiet, trying to make sense of Mr. Ice Prince going on a dawn croissant mission. It's such a small thing, but it feels... significant somehow. Like finding out your scary math teacher collects Hello Kitty merchandise.

"Well, worked out for me." You shrug, trying to sound casual as you show her the pastry bag. "J-Hope doesn't even like croissants, so."

The look Yunjin gives you could only be described as suspicious. 

“Okay but like... isn't that weird to you?" She sits up straighter, getting that expression she always has when she's about to drop some tea. "Jeon's on the Council of 9. He works with J-Hope all the time. How does he not know what the guy likes?"

"What do you mean?"

She leans forward, eyes sparkling like she's solved a murder mystery. 

“Think about it. Our fearless Chief of Tactical Assassinations spent ten whole minutes picking out the perfect croissant for someone who hates croissants." Her grin gets wider. "But you know who's always having croissants for breakfast?"

The implication hits you like a truck. No way. There's absolutely no way Jeon would... t̶h̶a̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶k̶i̶n̶d̶a̶ ̶s̶w̶e̶e̶t̶ ̶a̶c̶t̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶

"You're reading way too much into this." You try to sound dismissive, but your voice comes out weird. "He probably just grabbed whatever was there."

"Uh-huh." Yunjin's not buying it. "That's why he spent longer choosing a croissant than most people spend picking engagement rings."

You throw a pillow at her face. She's being ridiculous. 

Just because Jeon accidentally got you breakfast doesn't mean... anything. He's still the same guy who used you as paintball bait yesterday.

Even if he did pick out a really good croissant.

The weight of Yunjin's words hangs in the air. The idea that Jeon—Mr. Perfect-Planning-Everything—might have deliberately chosen that croissant... it makes something weird flutter in your stomach.

No. Absolutely not.

"As if." You roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. "How would he even know what I like for breakfast?"

Yunjin just gives you that look—the one that says she knows something you don't want to admit. "You're both always in the cafeteria at dawn, right? Haven't you noticed? He gets his coffee right when you're picking out your croissant."

You pause. She's... not wrong. Your early morning schedule does line up with his weird first-coffee-of-the-day ritual more often than not. But the thought of Jeon actually paying attention to your breakfast preferences? t̶h̶a̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶k̶i̶n̶d̶a̶ ̶c̶u̶t̶e̶ That's ridiculous.

"But why would he suddenly bring me breakfast?" The question comes out smaller than intended. "He doesn't even like me."

"Maybe he doesn't dislike you as much as you think." Yunjin's voice goes soft, thoughtful. "He's still human, you know? Under all that ice. Maybe he actually felt bad about your ankle."

Her logic makes an annoying amount of sense. But accepting that Jeon might have done something... nice? That he might have been paying enough attention to know what you like? That feels like admitting something you're not ready to face.

Could Jeon really have...?

No. t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶'̶s̶ ̶n̶o̶ ̶w̶a̶y̶ ̶h̶e̶'̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶s̶w̶e̶e̶t̶ There has to be another explanation. The idea of him noticing your habits, remembering your preferences, actually feeling guilty enough to do something about it—it doesn't fit with the cold, distant chief you know.

Except... maybe it does. And that's even more unsettling than the alternative.

"You need to stop watching those dramas. They're rotting your brain."

"Fine, don't believe me." Yunjin pouts, folding her arms like a scolded kid. "But when has anything in this place ever been simple?" There's this knowing look in her eyes that makes you want to throw another pillow at her, but she mercifully drops the subject.

The pastry bag crinkles as you grab it, desperate for any distraction from t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶s̶ ̶a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶J̶e̶o̶n̶ this whole situation. The croissant looks perfect—because of course it does, this is Jeon you’re talking about. 

Except for that small bite you already gave it back in the infirmary.

You break it in half, offering part to Yunjin like a peace offering.

One bite and—oh.

Oh.

"This is really good," you manage between bites, trying not to sound too impressed. 

Because you hadn’t really had time to savor it, appreciate the taste. But now you do, and holy shit. You've had your fair share of castle croissants—there's a reason you drag yourself out of bed at ungodly hours to get them—but this? This is something else entirely.

Stupid Jeon and his stupid perfectionism. Everyone complains about how anal he is about everything, but apparently that extends to pastry selection too. 

That's just annoying.

"God, I could eat like five of these," Yunjin mumbles around her mouthful, and you hum in agreement.

You both enjoy the quiet for a moment, just appreciating good pastry and each other's company. Then Yunjin sits up straighter, switching into work mode. "Hey, while you're here—mind helping me with something on my iPad? I'm stuck on this one part."

You scoot closer as she pulls up files full of charts and data. This is the real meat of gang work—not the glamorous missions or dramatic showdowns, but hours of planning and strategizing. You and Yunjin fall into an easy rhythm, bouncing ideas off each other and finding solutions.

It's nice, actually. Just you and your friend, doing what you do best, making plans that could mean life or death for someone someday. 

You know, normal people stuff.

Lunchtime at the castle is its own brand of chaos. 

The cafeteria buzzes with life—metal trays clanking, conversations overlapping, and the smell of whatever's cooking today making your stomach growl. 

It's kind of wild how this massive, well-lit space becomes neutral ground where gang divisions actually mix. 

Even if it's just to argue over the last pudding cup.

Yunjin, being the angel she is, grabs a tray for you since you're still stuck with these stupid crutches. You point out what you want—some spicy stir-fried pork that smells like heaven, a mountain of steamed rice, and enough kimchi to make your breath lethal. The kind of comfort food that reminds you of simpler times, before your life involved paintball ambushes and medical training. Yunjin goes for her usual rabbit food—some fancy salad and seaweed soup.

Finding a table is surprisingly easy. There's this unwritten rule about leaving some spots open for people who need the extra space—like, say, someone who got their ankle twisted during a certain chief's brilliant bait plan. So you snag a spot near the food counter, perfect for people-watching.

The cafeteria has this weird energy to it, like a tide of people flowing in and out. Some grabbing quick bites between missions, others lingering over coffee and gossip. It's probably the most normal part of living in a gang headquarters.

"Look who's eating alone again." Yunjin's voice drops as she stabs at her salad, and you don't even need to look up to know who she means.

"Does he ever eat with anyone?" You can't help asking, because seriously, what's with Jeon and his lone wolf act?

"Sometimes." Yunjin talks around a mouthful of greens. "His division members join him occasionally. Especially Takama."

"Who's Takama?" You mix some kimchi into your rice, trying to sound casual.

"His second in command." She covers her mouth as she chews, ever polite even in a gang cafeteria. "You know, deputy officer of Tactical Assassinations."

You can't help but smirk at the way Yunjin's eyes light up. Your roommate might be shy around strangers, but get her talking about castle gossip and she transforms into a one-woman intelligence agency. Her weird talent for reading people makes her better at gathering intel than half the Seduction Division.

"Okay, tea time." She sets down her fork and turns to face you fully, going into full gossip mode. "So Jeon's basically a lone wolf in the cafeteria. Only exceptions are Takama—his second in command—or sometimes J-Hope."

You take another bite of your food, settling in for what promises to be an interesting breakdown of castle dynamics.

"And get this—J-Hope hardly ever eats here. Man's practically married to his office. But when he does show up?" She leans in closer, lowering her voice. "It's either with Jeon or AD. Those two are like his pet projects or something."

"AD and Jeon?" The combination sounds about as likely as V starting a knitting club. "Wouldn't have called that one."

"Oh no, you'll never catch them together." Yunjin waves her fork for emphasis. "There's this weird... thing between them. Nobody knows why, but the tension's so thick you could cut it with a knife. Still working on figuring that one out."

She drops her voice even lower, like she's sharing state secrets. "AD's basically a cryptid though. Lives in his gamer cave like some kind of tech hermit. But word is, if you hang around the snack bar at 3 AM..."

You snort at her dramatic delivery. "Very spooky."

"And get this—he's apparently even grumpier than J-Hope. But somehow they just... click?"

"Grumpier than Dr. Cranky?" You raise an eyebrow. "That's actually impressive."

"Right? Like, next-level antisocial. But I guess their matching bad attitudes cancel each other out or something. They're both fluent in asshole."

"Well, you'd know." You gesture at her with your chopsticks. "You're the people-reading expert here."

"I mean, I haven't seen everything firsthand." Yunjin shrugs, picking at her salad. "But J-Hope's probably the one Jeon tolerates the most. Now V, on the other hand..."

"Yeah, no need to finish that sentence." You snort. "Those two are about as friendly as cats and dogs."

"Right? They hate each other's guts. Though V's weird because he gets along with everyone else—or at least pretends to. Hard to tell with him, honestly." She pauses, eyebrows shooting up as she glances across the cafeteria. "But he seems weirdly obsessed with JM lately."

"JM?" You follow her gaze. "The finance guy?"

"See the guy in the fluffy cardigan over there?" She tilts her head subtly. "That's him. Usually sits with Chaewon and Jessi. He's like, genuinely nice to everyone, which is probably why he puts up with V's... everything."

"Christ, he must have the patience of a saint."

"Right?" Yunjin snickers. "Meanwhile V's like this social chameleon—just plops down wherever he feels like. No fixed spot, just vibing with whoever catches his attention that day."

"What about Chaewon?" You ask, genuinely curious about your division chief. "You mentioned she sits with Jessi?"

"Yeah, see that woman with the red hair next to her? That's Jessi. They're basically joined at the hip, which makes sense." Yunjin lowers her voice. "Only women on the Council of 9, you know? Gotta stick together in this boys' club."

"Must be rough up there." You watch the two women, something tight forming in your chest. "Especially for Chaewon, considering how she feels about men. Makes you wonder what they went through to get those positions."

"Yeah..." Yunjin's voice goes soft. "Gang leaders don't really talk about their past lives. All I know is Chaewon came from another gang. Might explain some things..." She trails off, watching your division chief for a moment before shaking her head. "But that feels like the kind of story you don't ask about, you know?"

"True." You push around some pork with your fork. "What about RM and Moon though? Never seen them down here."

"Oh god, you won't." Yunjin waves her hand dismissively. "Those two are like urban legends in the cafeteria. Pretty sure they're permanently glued to their office chairs, buried in paperwork."

You're about to ask more when something in the air changes. You feel it before you see it, like a wintery breeze sweeping through the room, chilling and unmistakable. Conversations stutter and restart, heads turning just enough to look casual. 

When you follow everyone's not-so-subtle glances, you spot him immediately. 

AD, the human thundercloud from this morning, has decided to grace the cafeteria with his presence. 

His hoodie's pulled low over blonde hair, and everything about his walk screams 'touch me and die.' He moves like someone who's one minor inconvenience away from committing cyber crimes.

He heads straight for the food counter, completely ignoring the line of people waiting their turn. His eyes scan the options like they've personally offended him. You can hear the quiet grumbling from the queue, but nobody seems brave enough to actually say anything.

Well, almost nobody.

"Hey man, line starts back there." Some new guy who clearly hasn't learned the castle's pecking order yet pipes up.

AD turns his head so slowly it's almost cinematic. The look he gives this poor idiot could probably crash every computer in South Korea.

"Shut the fuck up unless you want your keycard to mysteriously stop working." His voice is barely above a whisper but carries enough venom to kill a small army.

The new guy practically shrinks into himself, mouth snapping shut like a trap. Everyone else in line suddenly finds the floor tiles absolutely fascinating. You get it—when the guy who controls every digital aspect of your life threatens to lock you out of the castle, you shut up and take it.

AD turns back to the food counter like nothing happened, loading his tray with... well, everything. It's like watching someone who hasn't eaten in days try to make up for lost meals all at once. Spicy Korean chicken, Caesar salad, pepperoni pizza, and a bowl of ramen that definitely wasn't meant to be a side dish. The combination is as chaotic as his reputation.

When he turns to survey the cafeteria, his eyes briefly meet yours. The air around you drops several degrees, like someone opened a window to a winter morning. Even under that hood, his gaze is sharp enough to cut glass.

He chooses a table not far from yours, dropping into the chair with a sigh that sounds like it started somewhere around his soul. The curious looks from other members bounce right off him as he attacks his food with the same intensity most people reserve for coding or murder.

Then J-Hope walks in.

The medical chief spots AD immediately, and his eye-roll is probably visible from space. With a huff that screams "not this shit again," he marches over to AD's table like a man on a mission.

"Oh, this'll be good." Yunjin leans in, practically vibrating with excitement.

You watch as J-Hope plants himself at AD's table, hands on hips, radiating disapproval. Whatever he's saying gets completely ignored—AD just keeps eating like J-Hope isn't even there. But instead of giving up, J-Hope drops into the chair across from him, apparently settling in for the long haul.

It's kind of fascinating, actually. J-Hope's clearly telling AD off about something, probably his hermit lifestyle, while AD responds in what looks like grunts and eye-rolls. But the weird thing is... he's letting J-Hope stay. For someone who just threatened to digitally exile a guy for speaking to him, that's practically a declaration of friendship.

"They're like a divorced couple who still lives together," Yunjin whispers, barely containing her grin.

You snort into your rice. "Yeah, if both of them were the grumpy one."

It's hard not to stare at AD. There's something fascinating about watching someone who practically lives in code actually interact with humans. The guy who could probably crash South Korea's entire infrastructure with his phone is sitting here eating pizza with salad. 

He's weird for a Council member. The others, like Jeon or V, you can picture them leading divisions. But AD? He feels more like some urban legend the gang created—the grumpy gremlin in the tech cave who might lock you out of your room if you breathe too loud near his servers.

You try not to be too obvious about watching him, but it's kind of mesmerizing. Even now, with J-Hope clearly giving him hell about something, AD maintains this icy distance. Like he's tolerating human interaction because someone forced him to remember he needs food to live.

The cafeteria noise provides perfect cover as you and Yunjin lean in slightly, totally not eavesdropping on what might be the grumpiest conversation in Kkangpae history. 

"For someone who's supposed to be a genius, you eat like a fucking teenager with a death wish." J-Hope's voice carries that special blend of medical concern wrapped in pure irritation.

AD doesn't even look up from his food crime scene, just keeps shoveling spicy chicken into his mouth with the enthusiasm of someone who hasn't seen sunlight in days.

"I'm not kidding, AD. Your last medical results were shit." J-Hope leans back, crossing his arms. "Or did you delete that memory along with your basic survival instincts?"

AD finally looks up, his expression screaming 'I'd rather be getting a root canal than having this conversation.' "Can you not? I can handle my own fucking health."

"Yeah, clearly." J-Hope's voice drips sarcasm. "Because staying up for three days straight surviving on energy drinks and spite is peak healthcare. What's your plan when it catches up to you? Hack yourself a new liver?"

A ghost of amusement flickers across AD's face before he squashes it. "Maybe I will. And while I'm at it, I'll program myself some immunity to your bullshit."

"You're impossible." J-Hope rolls his eyes. "Just eat something green occasionally! I'm tired of playing doctor because you think vegetables are optional."

AD stabs a piece of lettuce with enough force to kill it twice, moving with exaggerated slowness. "There. Happy?"

J-Hope gives a narrowed stare, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "No. Eat another one."

"You're so fucking annoying." AD turns away like if he can't see J-Hope, maybe he'll cease to exist.

You and Yunjin share a look, biting back smiles as you watch AD and J-Hope's weird version of friendship play out. 

It's kind of sweet, in a grumpy-meets-grumpier way. 

Even in Kkangpae, where everyone's got walls built up to their eyeballs, sometimes you catch glimpses of actual human connection. Even if it's just two cranky leaders arguing about salad.

But the peaceful moment doesn’t last long.

Harmony shatters when a group from V's division walks in. The atmosphere shifts immediately—you can feel it in the way conversations quiet down, in how other members subtly shift away. V's assassins always move like they own the place, all swagger and deadly grace.

Your stomach drops when one of them breaks away from the pack, heading straight for your table. He's tall, probably handsome if you could get past the douchebag energy radiating off him. 

He plants his hands on your table, leaning into your space like he's got every right to be there.

"Hey princess, heard about your ankle..." His voice drips fake sympathy before sliding into something that makes your skin crawl. He leans closer, close enough that you can smell whatever cheap cologne he's drowning in. "When you recover, how about some private lessons? I bet you could teach me all about seduction..."

The suggestion hangs in the air like something rotten. 

Your mind floods with comebacks—each one sharper than the last, each one perfectly crafted to cut him down to size. 

But you keep quiet.

Not because you're scared. Not because you don't have anything to say. But because you know how this game works. 

In Kkangpae, everything's about power. One wrong move, one moment of weakness, and suddenly you're marked.

And being a woman in this testosterone-fueled nightmare means always watching your step, always calculating the cost of each word.

Your silence apparently pisses him off more than any insult could. His face twists ugly, that fake charm vanishing like smoke. "I'm talking to you, bitch."

You catch Yunjin starting to rise, all protective big sister energy, but you grab her arm. This isn't her fight. Besides, you've dealt with worse than some bruised ego in a leather jacket.

The cafeteria's gone weirdly quiet. You can feel eyes on you from every direction—AD pausing mid-bite, J-Hope's exasperation shifting to concern, V watching like this is better than cable. Even Jeon's stopped pretending to eat his lunch, those dark eyes fixed on the scene playing out.

You finally look at the guy, really look at him, keeping your face blank. 

“And I'm not interested."

The words hit him like a slap. His face goes red, then purple, and suddenly his hand twitches.

The whole cafeteria seems to hold its breath. 

You catch flickers of movement—Chaewon half-rising from her seat, JM's eyes going wide, Jessi's hand twitching toward what's probably a knife.

But it's Jeon's reaction that catches your attention. He hasn't moved, hasn't said a word, but the look he's giving this guy is like a typhoon gaining speed. The kind of stare that promises violence, calculated and cold and absolutely certain.

Not that you need the backup.

The moment his hand comes down, you move. 

The fork in your hand becomes a weapon, and you catch his wrist mid-swing, driving the tines deep into his palm. The movement is smooth, precise—exactly what they taught you in training. Always use what's available, turn everyday objects into advantages.

He screams (more shock than pain probably), stumbling back like you've burned him. His eyes are huge, that macho confidence evaporating as blood wells up around the fork still stuck in his hand. 

Everyone goes dead silent. 

Like their brains are recalculating, adjusting their mental image of the new girl who just stabbed someone with cutlery.

t̶h̶a̶t̶'̶l̶l̶ ̶t̶e̶a̶c̶h̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶c̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶b̶i̶t̶c̶h̶

"Maybe think twice about who you're messing with next time."

He yanks his hand back with a string of curses, blood dripping onto the pristine cafeteria floor. His face twists ugly, like he can't decide if he's more hurt or pissed. 

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

You lean back in your chair, channeling every ounce of b̶i̶t̶c̶h̶ confidence you've got. The fork might have been impulsive, but now it's time to play smart.

"Someone who has Chaewon's ear." You let that sink in for a second. "And you know who Chaewon's best friends with? Jessi. You know, the one who handles personnel management?" Your smile feels sharp enough to cut. "Wonder what they'd think about some guy from Assassinations harassing their girls."

The color drains from his face so fast it's almost funny. 

Nothing like dropping two of the scariest names in Kkangpae to make a man rethink his life choices. You can practically see him doing the math in his head—is harassing the new girl worth potentially pissing off not one, but two Council members?

"You wouldn't—" His voice wavers between threat and panic.

"Try me." You cut him off clean. "This isn't even about me. You really think they'd let this slide? Their division members getting pushed around by some wannabe tough guy?"

His jaw clenches so hard you're surprised his teeth don't crack. The rage is still there, but now it's got a healthy dose of fear mixed in. Good. Maybe next time he'll think before running his mouth.

"Fucking bitch," he spits, but the words don't have much bite anymore.

You glance pointedly at the bloody fork still sticking out of his hand. 

"Get me a new fork while you're at it. You got blood all over this one."

The cafeteria's still dead silent, everyone probably wondering if they just witnessed career suicide by cutlery. But hey—sometimes you've got to stab a man with a fork to make a point.

He shoots you one last glare before stalking off, still cursing under his breath. 

You watch him go, noticing how the other assassins suddenly find their lunch absolutely fascinating. 

Funny how quickly tough guys back down when someone actually stands up to them.

Conversations resume, though noticeably quieter than before. You can feel the weight of everyone's stares finally lifting—some impressed, others probably wondering if you've got a death wish.

Everyone's except Jeon's.

When you turn to meet his gaze, something's different. Those dark eyes catch yours across the cafeteria, and something electric passes between you. It's different from his usual dismissive glances. Like he's seeing you properly for the first time. Not just as the new girl from Seduction, or the one who twisted her ankle during his paintball game. But as someone who can hold her own.

His expression hasn't changed—he's still got that perfect poker face—but there's something in his eyes that wasn't there before. 

Something that feels almost like respect.

His lips twitch, just barely, before he looks away. 

But that tiny almost-smile says more than words could. 

Maybe stabbing someone with a fork is all it takes to impress the mighty Chief of Tactical Assassinations.

t̶o̶o̶ ̶b̶a̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶'̶s̶ ̶s̶t̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶a̶n̶ ̶a̶s̶s̶h̶o̶l̶e̶

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© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[oh-no-its-bird]

Mmm. young Kagami accidental time travel gone wrong when Danzo is the first to find him,,

Danzo wants him as a loyal ROOT shinobi soooo baddd, it would fix all of his issues and give him 30 new ones and also make all of his everything so much worse

Ichigo comes with him too, but Danzo doesnt really give a shit ab her she's only here so that Danzo can make Kagami kill her to further his own ROOT training. She is having the worst time ever in the bg and also really mad that she's being ignored

Both kids have so much clan pride too,, the time they're from, they're only a couple years into Konoha being a thing, their clans make up the foundation of their personalities and lives. So them being forced to "forget" ab it,,, ough,,,

Being put through the process of forgetting themes to devote everything to ROOT, made so much worse because they don't even have 'true' Konoha loyalty to amplify like a modern shinobi kid might,, their clans are all they have,,, u cant just take it away,,

Ichigo especially I think would react SO violently to the concept of being forced to forget her clan. She is a HATAKE, she was raised in isolation and her clan is literally all she's ever had. They are raised into insane levels of loyalty to eachother and the spirit of their clans, Ichigo herself would have one day become her clans spiritual leader—in general too shes just. Very, very clan focused. All warring state era kids are.

Anyways, Kagami and Danzo

I think Kagami doesnt want to believe it's Danzo behind all of their suffering. And Danzo also probably does not present himself as the cause of it, at first anyways.

As is, Kagami is PRIMED for being groomed and gaslit tbh. The power imbalances are off the charts— he wants to be loyal and put his trust in Danzo so bad bc thats his best friend but also a whole adult now. A big, strong adult who Kagami is predisposed to trust.

Danzo is in the perfect position to present himself as a saving grace to Kagami. Slowly easing him into the realization that he's the one forcing him to go through all of this,,, by the time Kagami fully understands it was all Danzo's plans this whole time, he's already too thoroughly wrapped in his web to really see the facts straight

He also just has like. NO one left. Danzo is his only source of comfort in the darkness he carefully designed and submerged him into </3

Mmmm. Just Kagami and Ichigo depression hours up in ROOT club. They are having THE worst time ever in the world. When they're first caught, Ichigo tries to howl for help (with howling being a legitimate chakra technique all Hatake are taught as kids, often used to signal and communicate over long distances) so they have to fucking muzzle her as they go to get the chakra suppressants (its probably mostly a statement tbh, they could totally just get the suppresants and leave it at that)

Only a bit away, Kakashi hears the howl of a wolf in the distance and for a second, he is filled with the urge to run towards it. But the howling stops, and with it the strange urge. How odd. He'll have forgotten about it, not even a week later.

No one is coming for them btw, back in their time they're presumed dead in the lab explosion that sent them here. They're stuck in the torture machine with no rescue in sight <///3

I do wanna to see them escape together ,, but like Ichigo is now half feral and ready to fucking bite anyone who so much as looks at her and Kagami is now dissociating 80% of the time and cant seem to recognize anyone anymore

meanwhile the Uchiha massacre is only a week or two away, and their escape and subsequent discovery is a tipping point for the uchiha that makes them do the coup sooner rather than later,,,

No one other than Danzo knows ab the time travel and both the kids are a) very disoriented + dont super understand whats happening themselves, and b) filled to the fucking brim with trust issues now, thanks Danzo, so when they show up it's just. Kind of understood that Danzo was kidnapping actual babies. Like, no one recognizes Kagami, but he's clearly an Uchiha and the girl with him is insisting he's part of the clan (Kagami himself is fucking dead to the world and way too deep in his head to hold a conversation rn)

Meanwhile someone goes to get Kakashi and now Kakashi is understanding that Danzo was straight up kidnapping Hatake babies.

This is around the point where Kakashi was debating killing the Hokage for Danzo anyways so he's just kinda. Throwing down the towel. Man, FUCK this shit. Fuck ALL of this shit.

Uhhh Kakashi joins the Uchiha in their coup anyone? Anyone? No? Ok well he's doing it anyways.

The Uchiha overthrow the government and they peer pressure Shikaku into being new Hokage bc he serves as a good neutral figure for most in Konoha (and itd look bad if an Uchiha took the seat directly) and Ichigo and Kagami get to heal in the Uchiha compound, yayyy <3

Only they spent a few solid years with Danzo so they are for sure irreversibly fucked now. There is no true recovery because they have been changed as people at their core, and even free they've been permanently separated from the time, clans, and people that they once knew. They lost their childhoods and are now being forced to start from scratch in a world they can't fully recognize.

Eventually the time travel thing will probably be found out, but by that point shit already hit the fan and the walls were repainted anyways, so no one. Really cares. All's well that ends well...?

Then ofc, obligatory bad ending where they dont escape, Kagami kills Ichigo as part of his ROOT trials and becomes a full-fledged ROOT shinobi fully loyal to Danzo (and also gains his mangekyou)

The uchiha massacre happens and things happen as they do in canon— and when ROOT is finally "officially" disbanded, a curly haired Uchiha shows up among the ex agents struggling to relearn how to be human

Yayyyy <33 the end

Anyways the entire time I was typing this I was listening to Sub Urban - DIAMOND on loop, which is a really good song so Im gonna go ahead and plug it here bc like. It's really good. Highly reccomend.

[mcytblrholidayexchange]

Holiday Exchange 2024: General Rules and FAQ

WHAT IS THIS?

MCYTBLR Holiday Exchange is a multi-mcyt gift exchange now in its third year! Because of the size of the exchange, we are going to be matching through Ao3 this year, including tag nominations. The discord will be open with more information in late October.

TIMELINE: 

Tag Nominations Open, Discord Opens: Monday 28 October (0:01 EDT)

Sign Ups Open Monday 4 November (0:01 EST)

Sign Ups Close: Sunday 17 November (23:59 EST) Monday 18 November, (11:59 EST)

Assignments out by: Friday 22 November (23:59 EST)

Check-in: Saturday 7 December (0:01 EST) through Sunday 8 December (23:59 EST)

Posting Week: Monday 23rd December (0:01) through Sunday 29 December (23:59 EST).

Final Pinch Hit Deadline: Sunday 5 January (23:59 EST)

LINKS

Discord: [here]

Ao3 tagset [here]

All Ages Collection [here]

18+ Collection [here]

RESOURCES:

How to nominate tags to a tag set. [link]

How to sign up for an Ao3 gift exchange. [link]

A guide to your Sign-up, stage by stage. [link]

Apply for an Ao3 account (currently a 10-day waiting list): [here]

How to add a treat to an Ao3 Collection. [here]

How to image-describe your art. [link1] [link2]

MINIMUM REQUIREMENTS FOR GIFTS: 

Art (1 drawing, created to a standard you would normally post as “finished”) 

Writing (1k+ words, a complete work that stands alone) 

Playlist (2 hour-long playlists, accessible without an account) 

Moodboard (2 boards, at least 9 elements each, for a total of at minimum 18 elements between both boards. Speak to mods if that really doesn't work for your designs)

Web Weaving (1 board of at least 10 elements, credited)

Podfic (1 podfic of at least 1k words, edited to your normal level of editing)

Rules and Guidelines and FAQ under the cut.

Rules and Guidelines

RULES AND GUIDELINES FOR NOMINATING TAGS:

Instructions for how to nominate tags [here]

For a tag to be used in signup, it must be part of the tag set, and thus, must be nominated and approved before it can be used.

Tag nomination is done through Ao3’s tag set nomination process. You can nominate up to 20 tags per fandom, and up to 10 fandoms. Fandoms do not need to have a canon tag to be nominated, but please use the canon tag if possible.

Please only nominate tags you intend to either offer or request, to help with matching.

Please nominate tags without using the creator’s tags names, just gamer tags. Do not use the canon tag, as that will be sorted into Video Blogging RPF automatically, (unless you are nominating RPF). Alphabetize the characters by gamer tag within the tags, i.e. GoodTimesWithScar & Grian (3rd Life)

& denotes a platonic relationship, / denotes a romantic and/or sexual relationship. Tommyinnit & Tubbo (DSMP) would be platonic, and Ranboo/Tubbo (DSMP) would be romantic.

You can nominate up to 6 characters within a tag, as long as it fits within Ao3’s character limit (100 characters). 

Please disambiguate (include the server name in parentheses after the characters), as that helps us distinguish between creators who’ve been on multiple servers, i.e. Grian could be in YHS, EVO, Hermitcraft, 3rd Life, 100 Hours Hardcore, or Guess the Build, and we need to know which one.

Please distinguish between Empires S1 and Empires S2 if you are nominating Empires.

If you want a work that focuses on one character instead of a relationship, whether or not other characters are present, you can nominate a solo character as Solo: [Character Name], i.e. Solo: TommyInnit (SMPEarth). 

Video Blogging RPF is allowed as a nominated fandom, as long as the creators are all over 18 and famous in their own right. Mods reserve the right to reject tags they feel to be in bad taste, such as a person accused of misconduct and the person who accused them.

Crossovers are allowed. Please nominate them in the format Grian (Hermitcraft) & Tommyinnit (Dream SMP) (Crossover Fandom), or if you wish a character to be moved to a different canon, please nominate them in the format Technoblade (Origins SMP) in QSMP (Crossover Fandom). Crossover tags do not need to be entirely MCYT, non-MCYT franchises are allowed. All crossovers go under the fandom Crossover Fandom.

This event does not allow Adult/Minor romantic relationships. A list of characters considered to be minors in canon will be available in the discord– we will be going with age during the bulk of content for past servers, or present age for currently-running servers. Minor/Minor romantic shipping is allowed as long as the character is not extremely underage (15 or younger). Because of the difficulty of moderating content on a tight schedule, this event will not allow aged up characters for the purposes of relationships not being adult/minor.

RULES AND GUIDELINES FOR SIGNING UP:

Instructions for signing up [here]

Must join our Discord for communication. If we cannot find you in the discord at the end of sign-ups, your signup will be deleted.

Must have an Ao3 account for sign-ups, as they happen on Ao3. If you do not have a Ao3 account and need help getting on, please contact the mods as soon as possible.

Because of Tumblr, Ao3 and Discord TOS, you must be 13 to participate.

Signups are divided into Requests (what you want to get as a gift) and Offers (what you’re offering to make). You must request and offer a minimum of three different relationships or solo character tags. They can be from any number of servers and your requests do not need to be the same as your offers. You can offer or request a maximum of 10 servers with 20 tags each.

There are two collections, all-ages and 18+. Signing up in the 18+ collection is opting into NSFW as a possibility. You must be 18 or older to sign up in the 18+ collection, and any under-18 persons found signing up for the 18+ side of the exchange will be banned from this and all future iterations of the exchange.

If you do not want shipping, simply only request & tags. If you do want shipping, request / tags. If you are open to either, request both tags. 

Must mention your tumblr blog username in your signup, so your recipient knows how to give you your gift.

You must either write down a DNW (things you Do Not Want) in your gift, or put down DNW: No Restrictions, for each fandom you sign up to. 

You must write down at least one like, prompt, or have a letter with more information linked, to give your creator something to work with.

if you are requesting a Solo character tag, you must indicate if you are okay with shipping or not, and any romantic or platonic relationships you don’t want to see in the work, because your creator will be picking from all canon characters as the supporting cast.

Signing up gives mods access to your Ao3 email (it's how we send you your assignment), so make sure the email attached to your AO3 account is one that a) you check regularly, and b) are comfortable with exchange mods seeing. You can verify your email here: archiveofourown.org/users/[your ao3 name here]/change_email

This event does not allow Underage or Adult/Minor relationships. A list of characters considered to be minors in canon will be available in the discord– we will be going with age during the bulk of content for past servers, or present age for currently-running servers. Minor/Minor shipping is allowed as long as the character is not extremely underage (15 or younger), but no NSFW, even if signing up to the 18+ collection. Because of the difficulty of moderating content on a tight schedule, this event will not allow aged up characters for the purposes of content not being underage or relationships not being adult/minor.

RULES AND GUIDELINES FOR CREATING: 

Your gift doesn’t have to contain only requested relationships, but it does have to center on at least one requested relationship or character. 

Respect your recipient’s use of / or & in their requested relationship. Ship work must be delivered for a / relationship, and platonic work must be delivered for a & relationship. 

If you are a participant in the 18+ collection, you do not have to deliver NSFW, but you can if you want.

If you are a participant in the All-ages collection, you may not deliver an NSFW gift, or a non-NSFW gift that is E-rated. The maximum rating of a gift in the all-ages collection is M-rated. 

Respect your giftee's DNW. Any gift found to be in violation of a reasonable DNW is grounds for a ban from future iterations of the exchange. 

Must check in at the half-way mark of creation to make sure everything is on-track.

Contact a mod ASAP if you don’t think you’ll get your gift out on time or at all, or you want to withdraw

No AI-created content.

RULES AND GUIDELINES FOR GIFTING

You do not need to post on Ao3. You can if you want, and clicking your assignment button will automatically gift it to your recipient, but this is optional.

You must make a tumblr post and tag your recipient to give them the gift.

Must tag this blog in your gift post so we can keep track of gifts

If you are posting from a blog other than the one you signed up with (an art blog, or a 18+ blog for example), you must inform the mods so we can keep track of gifts.

Dark or Violent themes must be tagged appropriately

MISC:

Your requests will be publicly available, to conform with normal exchange standards, and because of the mechanics of pinch hits and treating. If you have something you do not want to be public, do not request it. Your offers will remain private, and mods will work with you to give a gift on anon if necessary.

You will not necessarily be matched with someone who matches your “offer to create” exactly. If the algorithm can make a better match it will do that, but in cases where there are more obscure requests, you might be matched with someone who only has one ship in common between your Offer and their Request. In that case at least you know what to make pretty quickly!

You do not have to make a gift for every ship or character your recipient requested, even if you offered multiple ships they requested. You only have to pick one and make one gift. 

Please ask in the discord if you need information. You could also send an ask here, or if it is something you do not feel comfortable sending in an ask, you can message the head mod at @antimony-medusa​ 

Mods reserve the right to ban people for being assholes.

FAQ:

-I changed my mind about my sign-up, I want to add something, what do I do? You can edit your sign-up right until the sign-ups close! As soon as the sign-ups close, everything locks and you’ll be unable to edit it any more.

-I added my fic to the Ao3 collection, but I can’t see it? The collection is currently set to ‘unrevealed’, so works can be added but won’t be visible before reveal day, so it’s all a surprise.

- I don’t have an Ao3 account, what do I do? Speak to the mods— we can help you sign up (there is a waiting list), or we might be able to give you an instant sign-up link (we have a limited number of these).

-I need to contact my recipient, but they have anon off! What do I do? Talk to us, we’ll contact them for you.

-I can’t finish my gift by the deadline, what do I do? You have two options. Option one is to consider if you can still finish it within a couple days, and ask the mods if you can get an extension (you can get an extension of up to two days if necessary). Option two is to drop entirely, in which case you tell a mod, and we will assign your gift to a pinch-hitter so your recipient still gets something. In both cases, the important thing is that you get in contact with a mod as soon as possible— discord is best, but @antimony-medusa can be contacted here if discord is not an option— to figure out a plan.

- My recipient requested 10 different fandoms, do I have to make a gift for each of them? You only have to make one gift! Just pick one fandom and one ship that you like and focus on that one.

-If I want to make more than one gift, can I? You can make as many gifts as you'd like! If you really enjoy making gifts, we suggest signing up as a Pinch Hitter in the discord, and there is also Treating, if you want to look for signups that really catch your eye!

-I don't celebrate Christmas, can I sign up? This exchange welcomes all holidays (even a complete lack of holidays), and people will have an opportunity to opt in to what events they want represented in their gift, whether that's real-world holidays, imaginary minecraft events, or no holidays at all.

-I'm only a fan of a small server, can I sign up? You are very welcome to sign up even if your fandom doesn't have the most active tag, this is a broad MCYT exchange. We will do our best to match you with someone else who also likes your block people, pinch hitting it if possible. If your fandom has less than a thousand fics on the archive, we recommend that you try and recruit friends into the exchange too, so you know that there are people who like the same characters as you in the matching pool. We can't absolutely promise to match on smaller characters, but we have run this exchange twice and we haven't had anyone be entirely unmatchable yet, so fingers crossed that continues.

-Is RPF allowed? While this is intended as a character-focused exchange, we know the lines for that are fuzzy when it comes to off-server events the creators have also done, such as the GIGS Phasmaphobia streams, and it becomes difficult to moderate this line. As we are now able to distinguish between RPF and the server creators using Ao3’s tag sets, so matching is no longer a difficulty, you will be able to request or offer direct RPF from this exchange.

-Is shipping allowed? Yes. Because there is no broad fandom-wide consensus about the appropriateness of that in specific cases (whether it's okay to write beeduo as /r or /p is an obvious case) or between specific fandoms (Lifesteal approach to shipping is different from Empires is different from DSMP), and because of the impossibility of being aware of everyone’s boundaries across the entire internet, the mods will not be policing any specific understanding of boundaries across the event. The event will operate on Don't Like Don't Read, in that everyone will have the chance to opt in for themselves as to if they are comfortable with shipping or NSFW for each specific character relationship they want to work with, and they will be matched based on that.

-Is NSFW allowed? Yes, NSFW is permitted as long as both characters are 18+ and both the giver and the recipient are participating in the 18+ collection. You will only match to people who want NSFW if you have signed up to the 18+ collection. To comply with Tumblr’s TOS and for the comfort of the greatest number of people in the exchange, nothing that would warrant the tags Underage or Adult/Minor Relationship is permitted. 

- Are major archive warnings (noncon/graphic depictions of violence/MCD) allowed? Aside from the content rules governing NSFW (no Underage, for the comfort of the greatest number of participants), major archive warnings are allowed. Depictions of real life horrors such as genocide and slavery are not-uncommon motifs in MCYT fics, along with torture, executions, and abuse in the source material, and the mod team is not interested in legislating which types of horrors, griefs or abuses are inherently worse than others and are therefore off-limits. Because holding writing to a quality standard or saying only survivors can write atrocities is unworkable from a moderation standpoint, the three mentioned major archive warnings (MCD, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Noncon), are permitted to be included in the 18+ collection. The all-ages collection permits MCD and Graphic Depictions of Violence as possible warnings, though gifts cannot go over an M rating if delivered in the all-ages collection, even if your recipient has opted into Graphic Depictions of Violence.

Major Archive Warnings must be explicitly opted into by your recipient in their signup, and gifters are free to not include major archive warnings that their recipient has permitted. Delivering un-asked for major archive warnings is grounds for a ban from this event. The mod team reserves the right to warn other mod teams on both the MCYT and Multi-fandom side about your bad behavior.

-Do you allow dark or violent content? Yes. The lore of many mcyt servers includes death games, abuse, cannibalism, murder-for-hire, and other dark or violent themes. However, all potentially triggering content must be tagged for so viewers and giftees can make an informed choice to get involved or not. We would recommend that you not include particularly dark topics unless requested to by your giftee.

-If I want to opt into e-rated gore, but I don’t want to opt into sexual NSFW, can I do that? To opt into e-rated gore or violence you must be part of the 18+ collection, but you can do so and then say you Do Not Want smut. Note that you cannot demand e-rated gore, in the same way that you cannot demand e-rated smut (or fluff, or anything else for that matter), it is simply an option you are offering your gifter.

-My person requested characters I don't want to write, and one of them is a ship I don't like. What do I do? You are only expected to create a gift for the characters you matched on. If you offered to create for GoodTimesWithScar & Grian (Hermitcraft),  Docm77/Rendog (Hermitcraft), and Grian & PearlescentMoon (Hermitcraft), and you matched to someone requesting GoodTimesWithScar/Grian (Hermitcraft),  Docm77/Rendog (Hermitcraft), and PearlescentMoon/ZombieCleo (Hermitcraft), you are only expected to make a gift with the characters and relationships you matched on, in this case, RenDoc. If you are entirely uncomfortable with your match, you can tell a mod, and we can take it off your hands and get it pinch-hit. You will still receive a gift.

-What is a Pinch Hitter? A pinch hitter is a person who saves the day and steps in when the original creator is unable to deliver their work for whatever reason, making a new work on an accelerated timeline. You can sign up to be a Pinch Hitter in the discord.

-What is a DNW? All participants will have the opportunity to fill out a DNW, which stands for Do Not Want. This is anything that has the potential to ruin a gift for you. DNWs must be phrased politely, (so no "No foster aus because they suck and you suck if you like them"), and they must be reasonable, (so no attempting to box someone into a specific gift, i.e. "DNW anything that isn't a space au where Tommy is a dinosaur-hybrid and Tubbo is a ghost bee and they rampage through the living ship named Las Nevadas"), and they must be clear and defined (so no “no dark kinks”— that is too subjective for someone to try and interpret), but they can be as petty (disliking specific art styles) or as broad-reaching (no modern aus, no specific ships, no crossovers with specific servers) as you like. Deliberately breaking someone's DNW is grounds for a ban from the exchange.

-When do I have to join the discord? You have the option to join the discord and hang out as soon as tag nominations starts on October 28, and you must join the discord so we can communicate with you by November 17. Anyone not in the discord once we start matching will have their sign-ups deleted.

-Is the discord a social server? Can I expect game nights? The discord is primarily an event server, we are not going to be hosting events. 

-What are Treats? Treats are optional bonus gifts that people give once they are done with their original gift! All of the sign-ups are available for people to browse through, and they can find prompts they like and make an extra gift for that person! They are completely optional for someone to make and you cannot ask for treats.

-What's a check-in and how do they work? Check-ins are there to make sure everyone is on track to finish their piece in time, and to communicate any issues with the mods! They take place through a google form and will require a short list of information— your name and if you think you will make the deadline, mostly. If you know that you won’t be able to check in on a specific date (lack of internet, etc), please contact the mods in advance.

-What if I need to drop out? It is your responsibility to communicate with us if you need to drop out of the event for any reason, and we do need that communication. We know that life is no respecter of fic and art deadlines, so no hard feelings if something happens. However, we would hate for anyone to end up having no gift, so please think about this if you are thinking of dropping out close to reveals. Please inform us in advance if you must drop out or think you will not be able to complete your gift on time. Dropping out after the last check-in without informing the mods will result in not being permitted to take part in further events run by this mod team.

I have a question not answered here? Ask us in the discord, send us an ask on tumblr, or contact @antimony-medusa on tumblr or discord!

[frameacloud]

Some ways to avoid generative AI in web searches

Our web searches are being filled with more and more AI-generated slop. GenAI creates misinformation that can be difficult to tell apart from the correct answer to whatever question you're looking up. GenAI mixes things up that have similar names. In one example that is especially easy to recognize, genAI has thought that a baseball team and the bird that it was named after must both be the same creature, with a bizarre combination of their eating habits and behaviors. This mistake still happens with specialized topics that could be harder for you to recognize unless if you're already very familiar with the topic in question. GenAI also makes up fake sources and facts out of thin air, and you can't tell until you try to find them somewhere else. The tech is more like advanced predictive text than something capable of research or reasoning, even though it can look enough like it that it can fool you if you don't know how to spot its mistakes.

Not only are the results of genAI unreliable, the source texts and images that they’re based on were used without permission. Sometimes they aren't modified enough to avoid plagiarism, but it's worse than that. Source images have turned out to be private medical photos and intimate personal photos that hackers had stolen and leaked to harass the people in the photos. Another reason why this technology is unethical is that each genAI query has such a high energy cost that it's significantly harmful to the environment, contributing to the climate crisis.

Here are some things that you can do when you use Google, DuckDuckGo, or other conventional general web search engines:

To turn off Google's AI Overview, set "web" as default. Here's how to do that on your devices and web browsers.

Add this string to any web search to only show results from before the genAI fad. Before:2021

Install the web browser extension uBlacklist. You give it a list of web addresses to not show you in your web searches anymore. Other people maintain lists for it that you can subscribe to so that you won’t see certain types of results in your web searches. Follow the instructions in Laylavish’s Huge AI Blocklist to subscribe to that list which will rid your web search results of AI-generated pages or images.

Since genAI slop is getting to be such a big problem on them, use alternatives to conventional general web search engines some of the time:

Use a specialized search engine instead of a general one. For example, if you only wanted to find a particular science article, there are specialized search engines that only look for those. The blog post "Skip Google for Research" has a list of specialized search engines for academics.

GenAI is notoriously bad at math because that’s too far outside the scope it was designed for: advanced predictive text. In any case, genAI is overpowered for math that is easy for computers to do. If you want to use a very advanced calculator, or even ask a math question in natural language, use Wolfram Alpha.

For questions about how to do things, look them up in WikiHow, the Youtube channel Dad, How Do I? or The Ultimate Manuals Library.

You can search within Wikipedia, but unfortunately vandals have been putting machine-generated falsehoods into it, as well as genAI images. To avoid this, use the article history to view versions of the article from before 2022.

Ask yourself if there are some topics that you often do a web search for just because you keep forgetting an answer to something. Start saving those answers in a book or file that you can refer to offline. This is called a commonplace book. For an example of one, Beth and Angel made theirs into a zine, Stuff I Often Google.

How about a completely different sort of web search than present-day Google or DuckDuckGo? Marginalia Search only brings up results that are text-heavy and similar to the web of the 1990s and 2000s. Its software is independent and open-source.

Have you been using a web search engine to take you to the websites that you visit on a regular basis? Switch to saving them in your web browser's bookmarks folder. Your web browser, Firefox, can sync your bookmarks to your other devices. If you often need to refer to a large number of static web pages (ones that don't change what is on them every day), then you can save and organize them in your Zotero, a bibliography management program. You can sort them with folders and tags so you can find them again.

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia: (Part Ten)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content: Fluff and bonding, Monster/human relationship, Miguel is rutting, Reader goes into heat, Rough PinV sex, Spontaneous outdoor sex, Slight voyuerism/exhibitionism, Mouth covering, Rough biting, Creampie & web sealing, Little bit of angst at the end? CW: Mentions of & brief depiction of deer hunting.

Word count: 6060

One Week Later

‘Are you ready, arañita?’

Miguel’s voice drifted up and into the nest, turning your head towards the entrance. You were halfway through getting dressed and the distraction nearly toppled you to the floor.

‘AH- Yeah! Yeah, I’m- almost ready! Just a minute!’

You struggled into your new outfit; a suit made entirely of silk which Miguel had painstakingly crafted for you. It was super soft and strangely warm, but it clung to the contours of your body a little more than you’d have liked. You kept wondering if Miguel had consciously or perhaps unconsciously made it so form-fitting. After all, this was your third suit of its kind, as he’d ripped the other two to shreds during extremely passionate and wet sex.

You felt your face grow warm at the memory and physically shook it away. No, no time for that. If you slipped back into the heat again you’d never get to go on the trip, and you were excited to go.

As you rose to your feet you took a moment to admire how the nest was coming along. The first thing you’d done was make it homely by adding a window and doors, with the entrance now covered by a crude cut oaken circle that swung outward on a hinge and the walls now adorned with little wooden shuttered holes.

You admired the half-made fireplace in the centre of the room, next to the DIY wooden table and the slowly burgeoning food prep area, before turning to the bed.

The mattress was completely drowning in silken blankets and silken pillows, and the floor beside it was now adorned with the pelt of a stag he’d killed. You knew autumn was approaching and it would only get colder, hence the focus on conserving heat, and while you didn’t want to jinx the relationship you enjoyed planning for the future.

You did feel a little bad since almost all these changes were only for your benefit. You had to preserve heat in this empty forest, but Miguel with his soft fluffy abdomen could remain shirtless all year round.

Your eyes softened affectionately at just the thought. Such a beautiful creature. He was a sight to behold when he stepped out into the cold dawn, where the heat of his muscles created a misty sheen of steam and his white breath curling around his fangs.

‘Arañita!’

You jumped in place as Miguel’s voice echoed from below for a second time. Shit, you’d been daydreaming about him so much you’d forgotten to go down. With fumbling hands you grabbed your bag and rushed out the open door.

‘COMING!’

Where once there was only a short sticky rope to descend from his home there was now a generous ladder, allowing you to easily clamber down to the floor.

Miguel was waiting, patient as ever, his legs gently tapping on the dirt as you approached.

‘Alright! I’m here, sorry. Had some- difficulty with the suit’ you called.

‘Ah, arañita. There you are.’ The joy that lit up his face every time he saw you never failed to make your legs weak.

‘Yep! Here I am.’

‘You look wonderful in that suit, by the way’ he noted as you rushed to his side. You took the time to scoff as you grabbed handfuls of his fur, using it as leverage to drag your body onto his back. His fluff was soft where it brushed your skin, and he smelled like grass dew and wet hair.

‘Oh my god- I knew it, you designed the suit to be too tight on me, didn’t you?’

‘I- well, yes. Is that an issue? Is it uncomfortable?’

You landed on his abdomen with an ‘oomph’ and shuffled forward, settling on his back like a great horse. Your hands wrapped themselves tight around his broad waist.

‘No, but- come on. Little bit pervy.’

‘I thought that was the nature of our relationship’ he argued. He tried desperately to catch your eye but in doing so began spinning in little circles, chasing his back as you continuously ducked out of the way. You took great pleasure in making him spin. ‘I like to look at you, yes. I get great physical joy from admiring your form. You are my mate. I thought this was normal. Is that not normal?’

‘Oh my god Mig—alright, come on! No more wasting daylight hours! Go! Go! Git!’

You gently and playfully kicked his side, urging him onward like a horse, but a firm glare from his bloody red eyes quickly brought you down into an apologetic cower.

‘Sorry! Sorry, uh- shall we, shall we go, darling? At your own discretion?’

He gave a curt nod and began strolling upward into the forest.

Today, he was finally taking you hunting.

The woods, once terrifying and unknowable to you, were slowly becoming a comforting norm. You gazed up at the dizzyingly high pines as Miguel walked upward to where the trees grew sparse and wide.

The early morning daylight trickled down in thin rays, their glow highlighting the tiny specks of dust and flitting little bugs as they passed you by.

This place felt old, untouched. It was cool beneath the heavy canopy above. You could hear nothing but the distant chirps of birds and the occasional creaking of an old tree. As you passed beneath those silent giants you clutched Miguel a little tighter.

‘You were talking in your sleep last night’ you whispered. Mig jumped. You’d been walking for almost ten minutes now in abject silence, so your voice was a surprise.

‘Ah- what was that, mi tesoro?’ he whispered back once he’d regained his composure. You bit down the urge to giggle.

‘Oh, sorry, um- you were talking in your sleep last night. That’s all I said.’

‘I was?’

‘Mhm. It’s very cute. You kept kicking your legs, kicking them and grunting, then you said something like don’t run so fast little one or wait for me and um- I think then you just kinda settled and went back to sleep. Like I said, very cute.’

Miguel rolled his shoulders as he continued strolling onward. You couldn’t tell from here what he was thinking.

‘Mm. I don’t- remember my dreams anymore, but, I know that they’re vivid. I remember the feelings but not the events. So- huh. I wonder what I dreamed about?’

‘I should stay up and keep an eye on you, try and sus it out’ you teased. He managed a breathy little snort of a laugh in response.

‘Ah, I’m not sure about that. What if I say something in my dreams that I shouldn’t?’

‘Oh, pft- like what? You gonna say someone else’s name? you don’t know anyone else, well except Miguel maybe, and if you said his name my first thought wouldn’t be that.’

‘I could still- imply something embarrassing’ he said with a shrug. You’d broached the top of the hills by this point and behind you the view was extraordinary, with small windows in the canopy giving you a perfect view of the city in the distance. Mig paused to turn and look at it with you mid conversation.

‘I could- I don’t know, admit some, sexual fetish I hadn’t even realized yet, some- deep interest in the back of my mind.’

You sighed as you rested on his bicep. With your arms still tight around his waist you gave him an affirming little squeeze. ‘You idiot’ you teasingly chided, ‘you admit everything to me anyway. This morning you immediately confessed that you designed my clothes for your own delight, and- wait, yeah, literally the FIRST day you started rutting you sat me down and told me in great detail your sexual fantasy. You are too honest to be worried about this.’

Another guttural choke escaped his throat, his strange little laugh that now filled you with joy to hear. ‘You are right, as always, my tesoro. I suppose it’s just my anxiety. I- suppose I’m just not used to anyone else being around when I sleep. It’s strangely vulnerable, no?’

‘Yeah, yeah. It’s weird, but, It’s nice though, right?’

You felt his fur bristle beneath you, the strands brushing your leg. Oh, you thought, that meant he was upset about something, right? But, why?

‘Is it?’ he murmured.

You turned and leaned around his torso to try and see his face more clearly, but right as you did so he turned himself and began walking deeper.

‘Hey, is something up?’ you gently pushed.

‘Ah, it… Sometimes- you pull away, at night, when we’re… cuddling.’ The way his voice dipped on the word cuddling, like he was embarrassed to be saying it in front of you. God, he was so sweet. ‘You shuffle away and I wake up without you. I- was worried you were uncomfortable with me.’

‘Oh, I love cuddling Mig! But doesn’t it bother you when you’re trying to sleep? I keep waking myself up because when I roll in my sleep you’re there and I keep thinking I’ll wake you up too.’

He let out a soft ‘humpf’ sound in response, clearly surprised by your response. ‘Ah- I don’t believe so. I haven’t slept any worse since you arrived, except, occasionally waking to check you’re okay.’

‘Oh. Huh. Well, you are… Big? I suppose is the best word? Big ol’ guy, you probably don’t feel me as much. But, like I was saying, I’m just not used to feeling something beside me when I sleep. I’m adjusting my brain to it, that’s all. it doesn’t mean I dislike you or dislike cuddling. We’re just uh- finding boundaries, now we live together.’

He seemed to perk up at the reminder that you were, technically, living together. Living together as partners, a concept he thought he would only ever dream out. He did a little rustle before bounding through the trees.

‘Alright, well, we’re almost there. Let me get you something to eat, mi arañita’

True to his word Mig became utterly focused on the hunt from that point onward.

He bayed you to settle down in the roots of a tree while he got into position, somewhere far enough to dampen your scent but close enough that you could see. He seemed desperate to have you witness him being productive, and you were curious enough to go along with his whims.

In this part of the forest the trees were sparser, allowing more vegetation to cover the dry earth. Miguel had said this gave him more cover for ambush, but you were still stumped as to how this giant man was supposed to hide himself even in the thickest growth. Even when pressed to the floor he was huge, as wide as he was long, covered in bright red and black fur.

Surely a deer would see that, right? Curiosity got the better of you, and you settled down in the roots to watch.

Mig started by feeling the vibrations in the dirt. He tapped at the floor, shuffling back and forth as he listened for something far beyond the scope of your own senses. You saw his eyes widen a few times, indicating that he’d felt something in the distance, and once he seemed sure he began the next unusual stage of this dance.

He dug. He dug into the earth with his enormous legs, filling out a small burrow in which his body could just about fit. He used his legs to drag foliage over his head, masking his scent and his body, until even you could barely see him at all.

And there, he waited. He waited, and waited, as clouds came to cover the sun. He waited in the gloom while you picked at your nails, waiting with a patience that frankly scared you to your core, until you both heard it.

A snap. A twig breaking.

A stag had entered the woods. Immediately you shuffled downward, lying as still as possible in the roots. Mig didn’t move an inch.

The stag was sniffing at the ground as it approached. You were certain that it would smell the enormous spider lying in wait, but somehow it just kept drifting closer and closer. You could see its head dipping to push through the grass, its snout flexing and snorting. Its breath condensed hard in the cool air.

Every muscle in your body tensed. You watched, your heart racing, as the stag went to sniff right over Migs head.

CRACK.

You jumped in your skin as he pounced.

It was terrifying. It was pure, primal, a spectacle of undiluted power. He moved with a speed that seemed impossible for something of his size, so large and yet so nimble, as his legs propelled him out of the dirt and onto the beast. It tried to run but his claws caught its neck.

With the sheer weight of his body he brought the bleating giant down. You saw a flash of his eyes, blood red with a single white pupil, right before he clamped his jaws on its neck.

It was over in seconds. The moment the deer stopped moving you scrambled out of the roots to join him.

‘Holy- shit, you’re so fast!’

Mig unclamped the catch with a soft grunt. You could see the blood on his jaw and neck which he immediately smeared with the back of his hand before facing you. He had such a strangely shy smile on his face.

‘Oh- you saw! You saw it. What did you think?’

‘It was… terrifying! Wow! You are- so, strong!’ you said with an awkward laugh. You left out how weirdly enjoyable it was to see him at full strength, to have witnessed the power and carnage he was capable of.

His grin widened as he took your comment at face value. ‘Thank you, arañita. That- makes me happy. I like showing you that I can be of use.’

‘Oh, Mig you idiot.’

You leaned in and affectionately touched his hair, gently brushing back the thick curls. He almost purred at the touch. ‘Now- jesus, let’s get you cleaned up and get home.’

You used a strip of silk from your back to try and clear his face, though he kept nestling into your hand which made it difficult to finish. Something about hunting for you seemed to make him especially soft. He would tap his feet for attention and rustle against you, and you would tut at him while secretly enjoying his touch.

That peaceful downtime did not last long though. As you were brushing yourself down, preparing to head back down, you noticed that Mig had stopped pacing. When you turned to check on him his eyes were wide.

‘Mig?’ you said softly. He didn’t move. You watched with ever growing curiosity as he began to dart his gaze across the forest line, almost as if he was looking for something. You followed his line of sight but could see nothing yourself.

It was only then, on the cusp of your lips parting to question Mig on what he was doing, that your senses picked up the same thing he had.

Your eyes locked in a moment of shared terror.

Footsteps. Distant footsteps, growing closer with every step. Idle chit chat that echoed in the trees, something about being lost and forgetting the map. You sensed a flask on an overstuffed backpack slowly clinking against a metal keychain.

‘Hikers’ you hissed. Mig gave a silent nod.

No, no, no. This was bad, you thought. What were people doing this far out? Why today of all days?

You didn’t want to risk a run in with civilians. You knew Mig was safe, but you also remembered how you’d acted the first time you saw him, and more importantly you remembered his distress at being seen.

Without another word you jumped into action, hopping his back in one fell swoop while he grabbed the kill by the nape of its hide. He lifted it as easily as a cat carrying a kitten, a feat you barely had time to appreciate, as he broke into a canter the moment you were mounted.

In silence you hurried back down the way you’d come.

For about half the way down it seemed to be smooth sailing. Mig made easy progress through the woods, his eight legs silently tapping back and forth on the mulchy earth as you descended to home. Your senses could feel the hikers getting further and further away.

In no time at all you saw the glade appear at the bottom of the hill, a tiny little circle in a sea of evergreen pines slowly sinking downward. You let out a contented sigh.

But then you felt it.

You felt It.

That foreboding tug in your gut. The gentle throbbing that sank down through your insides, the pulsing of blood as your heart sped up. The yearning, the need, the subconscious addictive pleading for satisfaction.

No, no, no, NO. You couldn’t stop here, right? The hikers weren’t far enough away yet.

You shuffled, trying to secretly suppress it, when Miguel abrupted stumbled to a halt himself. You heard him drop the stag with a thump.

Shit. You could smell it. It was heavy in the air, a smell you couldn’t describe with words but which you felt in your loins. He was rutting too.

Your eyes rolled. Oh that smell, it gave you goosebumps. That smell alone dragged you to him like a magnetic force.

‘Arañita?’

His words were soft as he spoke. Those were dangerous words, hungry words.

‘Mig?’

You felt so small on his back as his shoulders arched. You had to tilt your head to see his face, to see the bright glow of his eyes as his head instinctively tilted sideways. You balked. Those eyes were fucking starving.

‘Mig’ you breathed.

His abdomen vibrated softly, rustling against your skin in a way that sent pleasurable shivers through your thighs and spine. You shuddered against him. ‘Mig, don’t—careful—’

He breathed out hard, his breath condensing in the air. ‘Ah… Arañita …’

It curled like smoke around his bloody maw. His full lips parted and he breathed in through the mouth, releasing a dark and foreboding growl. ‘Ah…’

‘Mig—we need to get back—’

He was breathing heavier now. You could see his enormous spider legs quivering as he fought the urge slowly infecting his mind. The urge to pin, to fill, to penetrate, to feel. The urge to claim. The urge to see your pretty form, naked and sweating and shaking as you struggled to take him, as you were fucked to the brim with his very being.

When he huffed smoke for a second time a breathy moan escaped his throat. It was a mating call, plain and simple, echoing through the trees.

‘Mig… Mig…’

It was pitiful; your pleading had gone from genuine concern to depraved praise as you whispered his name over and over again. While you pleaded Mig struggled to focus on his senses. His body was begging, screaming even, to take you now, but he could just feel the hikers still approaching their location.

‘We need- to get back- to the nest’ he panted. You didn’t even respond.

At this point you were broken, involuntarily grinding your hips into his fur for any semblance of relief. Your body was burning to the point that sweat was sticking your suit to the contours of your skin, highlighting every little dip and curve.

‘Miggy—’

‘Arañita!’

His bark of an order made you mewl.

‘We need- to get back—’

‘O-Okay’ you whined. Slowly, painfully, Miguel began to continue his walk down the hillside towards the glade.

It was agony. You’d gotten so used to instant gratification that pushing through the need was now hellish, especially combined with the need to run.

It was an itchy heat, a prickling heat, and as your blood began to pump you felt your insides begin to pulsate. Throb after throb, each harder than the last, as every muscle inside you twitched and tensed around a cock that wasn’t there.

You could feel his body beneath you. You could sense him, feel him in every part of your body. All you could think about was feeling more, tasting more, as that desperate curdling need to feel his cock inside you flooded all of your senses. It was physically unbearable.

‘Don’t’ your mind screamed as you pulled at his fur.

‘Don’t do it’ his mind pleaded as he forced himself forward.

But you were no match for each other’s potent smell. No risk, not even death, felt important compared to that burning ache.

You collapsed from his body and into the dirt with a low moan, unable to maintain yourself any longer. Miguel descended on you in seconds.

You squeaked and squirmed as he gripped you in his claws. He pounced like you were prey. He flipped and thrust your body down onto its back, his gruff hands immediately pinning your arms to the floor. The frail little bones in your wrists screamed out at the pressure.

‘Mig!’

He hissed and flexed his teeth on your neck, hot breath cascading over your skin as the smell of musky hormones and blood filled your nose.

‘I can’t- wait—’ he panted. You could already feel his abdomen rubbing and grinding on you, his slit unable to contain his erection any longer. You could feel the thick, warm shaft smearing your new suit with his thick, pearly pre-cum. ‘I need- you, please- I need it- it hurts—’

You knew it was dangerous, but your brain was a melted pot of red hot lust. You couldn’t fight it anymore. With a soft whine you lay back and turned your head to the side, frantically nodding for him to continue.

‘Okay, fuck—I can’t wait, fuck—just, be quick, please’ you panted.

He didn’t even bother to fully undress you. With a hiss he bent and ripped a hole in your suit with his mouth, a dangerous tactic as his teeth brushed your pussy lips as he tore the silk aside. He took one deep sniff of your pheremones before physically dragging your body into position.

He forced your legs into a mating press, his hefty torso straining the muscles in your thighs to bend to his will. He rustled slightly as he pushed into position, roughly edging his bulbous member against your slit, and as you felt the first inch spreading you open you knew it was over.

‘Okay, okay’ he panted, ‘shh- sh, stay still for me arañita, let me just—fill you—’

He thrust, hard, and with one excruciatingly tight stretch he was inside you again.

‘M-MM--!’ Your hips bucked and tensed, rocking from side to side as you struggled to adjust. Miguel gasped like he’d just avoided drowning.

‘Ah—ahh—that’s it, that’s it. I’ll be- quick, just- stay still, mi tesoro, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.’

The moment he entered you he started to frantically rut to completion, his abdomen jerking back and forth as he fucked you into the dirt. Your fingers dug into his arms.

‘MM--!’ It was painful to hold back your screams. You had to bite your tongue until it bled, until the taste of iron filled your mouth and nose, all in a vain attempt to not be caught. He was so fucking rough.

‘Sweet little spider’ he whined. You felt him thrust a little deeper and squirmed with joy at the familiar mixture of ache and pleasure.

‘It’s… ‘S so good’ you whispered in a needy, whiney breath. ‘So—good…’

Desperate now to finish quickly, Miguel angled himself a little further back. He needed the one thing that he couldn’t resist, his most primal indulgence. He wanted to see it. Your small, soft, sweet human body, perfectly impaled on his enormous shaft. The sight sent full body shivers through his spine.

‘So… tight…’

He looked utterly pussy drunk, mesmerised almost. He watched your slick coat his cock as he drew back, those translucent sticky strings hanging between his abdominal fur and your pretty little slit. They made his black veins glisten as they pulsed against your swollen cunt.

‘Mi… aranita…’

He stared, unblinking, as he moved his hand and began touching the spot where he’d entered you. He brushed his thumb down and across your swollen clit, those wet and messy folds, until it came to rest where his shaft was splitting you open. He watched you swallow him whole.

‘Pretty, pretty little spider’ he whispered. ‘F-fuck…’  

He watched your hips jolt as he gave a few short pumps about halfway in, fixated on the way you stretched and wriggled with pleasure. His previous seed was now oozing out at the sides as he pumped in and out, just adding to the absolute mess you were making.

‘So, so… pretty…’

You felt his claws suddenly hit your neck, pressing you down until you were forced to be still. He continued to watch with wide and unblinking eyes as his thick rod squished back and forth, back and forth, filling you until you bulged before slowly slipping out with a wet pop.

‘Mm- mm—’

He was grunting hard as he moved.

‘So, fucking, pretty—’

‘Is it this way?’

Your whole body went rigid at the sound of unfamiliar voices, but you didn’t even have time to process your shock, because Miguel didn’t stop.

Even as the voices got louder he continued rutting you into the floor, his breathy grunts just barely audible in the rustling undergrowth.

You silently slapped at his arm but he couldn’t bring himself to pause. He impulsively clamped his hand over your mouth, his eyes deadly and starved as they stared down at your panicked expression.

‘Stay. Quiet’ he mouthed. Despite your fear, you were just as needy. You let him have you.

He bent your legs into your ribs just to slip deeper, his thick shaft eagerly kissing and smearing your cervix with pre-cum. Your breath was hot on his calloused hand as it muffled your desperate moans.

Despite his rational mind knowing that he needed to be quiet, Mig’s carnal desperation was driving him towards risky behaviour. You could hear the clap of his skin between your thighs echo with each wet pop as he pushed in and out, a symphony just as terrifying as it was erotic.

You watched him savor the feel of your body. You watched him as he experienced you.

‘Ah—ahh—ah—’

He flexed his jaw until it hurt trying to suppress his cries of pleasure, and in a second moment of impulse he bent down and sank his fangs into your shoulder. Your squeaks were silenced.

Now clamped by the terrifying power of his maw you were utterly surrendered. You could feel his teeth moving in tandem with his cock, filling and shifting inside you, flooding you with that same potent mixture of pain and pleasure.

You raked your fingers down his back, drawing red lines into his rough scarred skin. He dug his claws into the dirt.

The footsteps got closer, but there was no breaking free. You were trapped together. With a muffled grunt Miguel sped up to completion.

‘MMFF—’

He came inside you silently, with all his gutteral noises muffled by your skin. You felt it all the same. The heavy spurts, the hot seed flooding in and squirting against his soft underside when your cunt ran out of room. You were filled until you bulged.

In the high of that release you were nearly dizzy. Your eyes fluttered shut as your hormones overpowered any rational fear about being seen. All you could do was lull and whine, relishing the sweet gratification of being filled again.

‘Mig’ you whispered. ‘My Mig. You—’

Snap.

Your eyes shot open.

You tilted your head, slowly, just enough for your eyes to roll and spy the woods behind you. Two hikers were frozen in place, their bodies just barely obscured by the trunk of a pine.

They were staring at you. You, your body pinned beneath the torso of your half spider mate, still fully impaled on his monstrous cock, with your head in his neck and your flesh in his maw.

Your blood ran cold as your body tensed. To say you were mortified was an understandment, it felt like your heart might give out. You felt Miguel’s breath steaming against your shoulder as he panted into it. Did he know? Had he realized?

You opened your mouth but no sound spare a painful squeak escaped. Your brain was utterly fried.

The one to break the tension then was Mig, who decided to release your shoulder and stare directly at the two strangers. Mouth bloodied, eyes red, his naked body straining and panting for air.

Their reaction was swift.

‘FUCK!’

The two hikers almost fell over each other as they ran, both frantically fleeing for their lives into the overgrown brush.

‘JESUS- CHRIST, WHAT WAS THAT?!’

‘WAS IT EATING THEM?!’

‘F-Fuck, FUCK! I DON’T KNOW JUST- GO!’

‘We have to call for help—’

‘JUST RUN JUST- FUCKING RUN!!’

As the screams grew distant, you felt Miguel slowly pull out. His hands were quick to plug you up and carefully stitch your suit back together at the crotch, but you were too exhausted to move.

‘Shhiittt.’

It was the only thing you could think to say as you lay back in the mud, your head still a little woozy from the whole experience. Mig just grunted.

‘Shit, shit, shit. Ah…. I’m- I’m sure it’s fine. It’s fine. I- fuck, are you okay Mig?’

He grunted again as he lifted you up into his arms. His spider legs hooked the stag’s carcass and carefully manoeuvred it onto his back, allowing him to begin the short final trek back to the clearing with you still in his arms. The longer he went without saying a word, the more you began to worry.

‘Mig?’

You patted his cheek as he walked, trying in vain to get his attention. His only response was to sigh.

‘It’s okay’ you said, your voice now rather timid. ‘It’s fine, they- we probably won’t ever see them again. And hey, we didn't have to fight them! That's good, right? They just- left.’

‘It’s not that.’

You were surprised when words finally left his mouth, especially when they were delivered so sadly. He was blunt, yes, but not usually this melancholy, especially after sex.

‘What is it then?’ you asked. It took him a few more seconds to reply.

‘They thought… I was eating you’ he murmured. ‘If I’d been anyone else, they wouldn’t have screamed. We would have been- yelled at, perhaps, or chastised for being perverts. Maybe they’d have just, awkwardly moved away. But they would never have assumed I was eating you.’

The sombre reality sank in slowly. Somehow, you’d both forgotten the reality of what this was. What he was. You tried to shrug it off. ‘Wait, that’s what you’re worried about? I mean… If you were just, purely human, they might have still assumed you were murdering me. People can do murder too yanno.’

He managed a small, throaty chuckle at your light teasing, but it was strained. He looked distant, distracted, alone in his own mind. You gently shook his arm to drag him back down to reality.

‘Hey. It’s fine. You’re fine’ you repeated.

‘Does it not, bother you? The way they reacted?’

‘Mig I would have been mortified to be caught like that whether you were fully human or not’ you scoffed. He seemed unconvinced.

‘If they’d- seen us, holding hands’ he said, slowly musing over the theoretical aloud, ‘if they’d seen us… kissing, or even just sitting together, they would have run. They would still be terrified.’

It was hard to maintain a smile in the face of his dour prediction. You knew he was right, but you didn’t want to simmer in that pool of despair, and you didn’t want him to wallow in it either.

‘People- when they see something they don’t understand, they, react like animals. Sometimes they run, sometimes they fight. They squash it so you don’t have to think about it. It’s easier.’

That morbid thought made him wince, but you refused to let go. You leaned in and tilted his head back towards you.  

‘And it’s horrible. It’s horrible, and it hurts, but then there’s other people. Other people, who- know what it’s like, to be the- scared little spider on the wall. And they know, Mig. They knew. I know. And I’m not scared of you.’

To your joy he managed to shoot you a ghost of a smile, just the barest tilting of his lips. It was enough for you, even if you’d only managed to distract him for a bit.

‘Besides, who do we have to disappoint?’ you said in an attempt to lighten to mood. ‘I don’t have friends to introduce you too, or family, or co-workers. You’re alone. We don’t need to worry about what people think.’

‘You say that now, arañita, but… I don’t know, I don’t feel like that will remain true forever. I also don’t appreciate you indulging my possessive nature.’

‘Awh, what? How, what did I do?’

‘Implying we’re all we’ve got’ he said softly. ‘It makes me- happy, but on some level, I know it shouldn’t.’

‘Well, hey! You know it shouldn’t, so- you know, that’s a start.’

Mig ducked his head beneath a row of branches as he re-entered the clearing. In the clear, bright light of the burgeoning sun he looked glorious.

‘Yes, but—I also know that I willingly ignore that fact and, pretend it is acceptable’ he confessed with a slight shrug. ‘Because- well, it comforts me, especially when I’m reminded that we are… different, to put it nicely.’

‘Well, as long as you’re not getting feisty, huh? I’ll just be sure to let you know if it ever gets annoying’ you offered. You pressed your face against his pec, right over his heart, and tapped it like you were making a promise. He gave you that sweet little ghost of a smile.

‘Very well, mi tesoro. I will hold you to that.’

You allowed Mig to drop the kill near the base of the nest before climbing back in with you still in his arms. You lulled a little in the sudden warmth, placated by the warm orange rays of sunlight warming the floor, and the moment he slid you onto the bed you collapsed into it.

‘Mmm… Yanno, that was the first time we were under such pressure from the heat that you didn’t make me orgasm’ you noted with a yawn. It was more a dry observation than a real problem you had, but it immediately caused Mig to bristle in horror.

‘I- oh, no you’re right. You poor little spider.’

‘It’s okay! I don’t blame you, it—HEY!’

You squealed with delight as he dove onto the mattress, his weight flinging your body a few feet into the air before landing back into his already outstretched arms.

‘Let me fix that’ he purred, his breath brushing your ear. ‘Please, mi aranita, let me taste you again.’

With an eager grunt his lips met yours, his abdomen rustling with excitement as his tongue went down your throat. You were smothered in seconds.

You gave in to his whining need to please and relished in the chance to scream again, your wet lips quivering his name with each breath as he tore your third new suit to pieces for just a lick of your cunt.

You were too focused on his mouth to notice anything as you tossed every item of clothing to the floor. Between his whiny moans and your own panting, you couldn’t have possibly heard anything else.

You certainly couldn’t have heard your society watch as it buzzed against the fur rug, the name ‘Jess’ highlighted in clear orange light. It was left to ring to voicemail instead, with neither of you aware it’d even gone off. Link to next part!

[maximumzombiecreator]

Apart from the old trial-and-error method, are there resources that you would recommend for the aspiring megadungeon architect?

Either tools for the mapmaking or books/articles for guidance on the matter.

I talked a little bit about resources on the subject here, and I still feel like there's not a great single resource on how to build a megadungeon that I would recommend. There definitely are some good articles, though.

I'd say the most essential in my view, and one you're likely aware of, is Jacquaysing the Dungeon. This is a great reference on building non-linear dungeons that are interesting to navigate, which adds so much to a megadungeon. The Alexandrian's other stuff on dungeons are also worth reading for the most part. For example, his series on Re-Running the Megadungeon is a solid demonstration of megadungeon practice for new or unpersuaded GMs.

Most of the great articles I've read on dungeon design are from OSR blogs. Some of those have been lost, since so much of that was on Google+, and in general I'm reticent to link to OSR blogs because of the issues in that space. But I'll link a couple that I really like that serve as a good starting point, and its pretty easy to sort of navigate the web of blogs from there.

One I quite like is the dungeon checklist from goblin punch. At a glance I think it feels a little basic, but whenever I go back to it I find something I've missed in my current dungeon and that sparks my creativity for another round. Another is this article from false machine, which I find extremely evocative and great at getting me to think about the dungeon as a real, tactile place. Neither of these is essential, but I just think they're neat, and a good place to start wandering the webs of OSR blogs and seeing what speaks to you for anyone new to that space.

For mapmaking tools, I personally just use GNU IMP and some of Dyson Logos' photoshop brushes because I ain't got time for all that hashing. But I remain a big advocate of doing mashups of other maps, using geomorphs, or random generators if you don't want to sit there and tediously map stuff out personally.

Sorry, this ask took me forever to get to, and aside from personal reasons, the other reason it took so long is that the answer is kind of just "no, I don't know of many good megadungeon resources." I think part of why I've been so motivated to write on the subject in the past is that I think so much of the existing advice is vague, scattered, or kind of just sucks and misses the point. And I'm sure there's a lot of good stuff I just haven't found. But nearly all the good stuff is for making good dungeons, and then the megadungeon advice is "do that but bigger" which I think is actually bad advice. Like it's bad advice in the same way that you can't just extend techniques on how to run an engaging battle into techniques on how to run an engaging war.

So, consider this an open call for anyone in the comments or reblogs to link any megadungeon resources they think are useful. Hopefully other people have more than I do.

[yanderes-galore]

One character that i find really interesting in Resident Evil is Mia Winters, and it's not even when she was infected by mold. For starters, Mia isn't exactly a victim (not as much as the others in the game). She was a bioterrorist that worked for The Connections and she knew what Eveline was and what she could do. Mia may not have designed Eveline, but she helped transport her to her destination, which led to the events of the game. So, Mia is responsible for the deaths of all the ship's crew, the Bakers, all the family victim's and Ethan himself, but she still got away with it in the end. So, could you write a general concept for Mia? You can add the infected version, but i think she has more dept in her normal form.

I'll try, sure. It won't be that long but I will say what I think of her.

Yandere! Mia Winters Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Picture taking, Human experimentation, Delusional behavior, Dubious companionship/relationship.

I will agree that is not the best person.

She lied so much during the story.

While she did care for Ethan, she lied to him many times.

She lied about what she was doing, she lied to lure him, she even lied about him not being a mold creature.

That's barely even covering the fact she was transporting Eveline.

Eveline was a developed bioweapon meant to sneak behind enemy lines and was meant to be transported to testing grounds.

Mia choosing to do such a job, even if the pay was good or she was doing the right thing, is a dark thing to do morally.

Despite all of that, I would still say she's a subtle yandere if I had to make her yandere.

She's primarily just manipulative, even before the mold.

I could also say she's delusional in the way she's thinking.

She may think she's doing the right thing when it comes to lying to you.

She was married to Ethan prior to RE7 (iirc), and still lied to him.

You think she's going to tell her obsession the truth?

She knows the truth would drive them away from her, then she can't have them anymore.

She'd hide her obsessive tendencies... and if they were some sort of experiment, she'd hide that too

Mia would fabricate your entire life if it meant you stayed by her side as your yandere.

Does she feel guilt? Maybe a little.

However, Her own feelings often trump any regret she feels.

I feel Mia would hate being alone more than anything.

She'd want you to be by her side and for you two to care for one another.

Even if it means your whole relationship has been based on lies.

She'd lie to you as a friend and lie to you as a lover.

She'd be delusional, uncaring if she's leading you into a web of lies.

In terms of what she'd actually do other than fabricate your life...

She'd socially isolate you in fear of others knowing the truth and saying something.

She has a photo album of pictures she took when you didn't know.

She has a journal and audio recordings she uses as ways to vent her obsession.

She definitely isn't one to outright kill unless it has something to do with the mold.

That's fine, not all yanderes involve murder, that's something I've come to learn when writing.

Sometimes they just need to do something overly toxic or worse.

I'd say her lying and manipulating is its own form of scary.

Mostly because, if you ever learned of her lies, the trust issues you get afterwards is enough to make you distrust anyone.

How would you know if anything is true after that?

Hiding her obsessive behavior is bad enough, honestly.

But if she was hiding the fact you were an experiment or infected with something?

Just so she could keep you as hers?

It may not seem that bad compared to other yanderes...

But it will still mess you up psychologically when she cages you in her home, promising all she does is for the best.

[luckyshinyhunter]

It's pathetic that people these days still think that superheros in media are dying.

But honestly, they just be cynical and rather focus bashing on stinkers like Madame Web, listening to grifters and revolutionizing any bad superhero film and say a stupid hot take and than give films Blue Beatle, The Marvels, any great and fun film an chance.

Echo and Peacemaker was good and I can't wait for new shows like Agatha, Penguin, Ironheart or any projects whether MCU or DC.

But I think people should give superhero cartoons a chance.

What if brought a endless possibilities to the MCU, bringing it's familiar characters in whole new perspective and gives a lot for the audience to explore the multiverse and wanting more.

Invincible is a show I did not expect, both gruesome and captivating pretty similar to a another Amazon show, The Boys.

But it wonderfully shows the ups and downs of a superhero, making it's welcome in the list of your shows that must be watched for the experience.

Also no surprise since it's based off a comic book created by the people who also made The Walking Dead.

My Adventures with Superman introduced a new version of Superman's world that actually feels bright and hopeful unlike the Zack Snyder films that try to bring but forgotten in the last minute.

Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur bring the titular characters in the spotlight, paving the way for a new black superhero with amazing diversity, colorful animation and character design and an addicting soundtrack like Black Panther and the Spider-verse films.

X-Men 97 is holy grail of all revivals and the one that beats the original. Back on my X-Men 97 review, I said that I haven't grow up on the original and due that I was born in 2002 but I started watching the original lately because of this show.

It's one of the best and refreshing marvel shows I ever watched, it felt like anything from the show has never left, but with an better style and unique writing that the writers should definitely be a part of the MCU's version.

I just love how we are introduce to a new era of animated superhero shows, with astonishing performances, amazing writing and peak designs.

Growing up from shows like Static Shock, Teen Titans, Iron Man: Armored Adventures, Fantastic Four: Wgh and Spectacular Spiderman.

I was in for these shows when they got announced and hoped to see more shows like this in the future.

I hope you should give these shows a chance because animation is the backbone for superhero shows and media in general in my opinion.

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

Hey in you villian au I had a few questions about Kai if you don't mind.

First you talked about kai and him being a cult leader, whats the gist of that, something similar to chen? A death cult, a fire worshiping soceity, a volcano conclave?

And secondly, whats his relationship with his sister, ambivilance, getting along in the 'Oh lets go on a pilaging and raid together thats sounds like top tier sibling fun' sort of way or a bipolar could be fun or could be fatal depending on the way the wind blows kinda way?

Finaly (and sorry for being long winded) you talked about his main thread / power came from societal manipulations, is this more cloak and dagers or populism / manipulation, the steel in the dark vs the gilded spider web so to speak?

PS fun au, realy cool designs my favourts are probaly kai pixal and jay, all just fab :)

Disclaimer: long ass ramble about my Villain AU.

so many questions today, not that I'm complaining! I love to talk about my aus. Kai's an interesting one too.

Kai's cult doesn't actually have a big base or anything, at least not in it's fully developed form. It's not ironed out but, I have the thought that the basis is that by joining the cult, you protect yourself from the end of the world snake of fire (definitely not it's actual name lol). By joining, you get into it's good graces, it won't eat you when it returns to Ninjago. By worshiping Kai, who presents himself kind of like a human-form of the snake, you fully ensure your safety. It's a complete lie of course but by the time the AU officially starts, it been over 200 years since canon, so it's had a long time to marinate. That's another thing, because of that time span the cult is huge. Functions more like a society than a small-time cult. Whole generations of families have been born into the cult, it's really soaked into the population. One thing I like to think about how you could walk into a random, harmless looking town and be completely unaware it's cult territory. That everyone in it is a member. I like to call them snake-dens (also what they're called in story).

(also note: since you mentioned Chen, Kai's cult does actually have similar snake imagery if that isn't clear lol.)

As for Nya, well, that's kind of complicated. See, Nya isn't a villain in the same way Kai is. Most of the art I've posted about her have been of her post-reformation design. Essentially within the two centuries since sea-bound, she'd developed into a sea monster. More akin to a destructive force of nature than a traditional villain like Kai. A lot of her destructive stemmed from anger, people abusing and polluting the ocean. Namely, Zane's kingdom would throw a lot of oil, trash, and broken/old tech into the ocean before an event where Sea-Nya had thrown it all back over the walls of the kingdom down onto it through a huge wave (hugely destructive, had a death count, just plain disgusting). Sorry for the ramble about her but I thought some context would be important lol.

So, Kai and Nya didn't actually talk like at all during those two centuries. Pre-seabound but post ToE their relationship was -- very bad. Nya was very, very angry at Kai for leaving them behind and becoming so awful. They never resolved that before Seabound. Kai felt guilt about that, what happened to her and that he never went to fight for hr or save her. But he never changed, so how bad he really felt is -- up to interpretation. it's a big part of why he and Jay fight/fought so much. After Nya had returned to (mostly) human, their relationship is interesting. Nya kind of hates him but it's -- muted. She can't stand the person he's become, how he threw everything away and never changed. That he had a real choice when she didn't and he used it to be -- a violent, cruel cult leader. When he comes around, she doesn't tell him to go away. She thinks he's pathetic. Kai wants his sister back, but he's not willing to change. They're complicated.

I'm going to say it's a 'gilded web' type thing but it also is very shady. He has a lot of connections and is just a plain focal point within the underground crime scene (or overground because this ninjago is really fucked up and dangerous lol, the entire land. ninjago city itself is completely gone). For instance, in Zane's kingdom, up in the ranks an advisors runs a smuggling operation for citizens to 'escape' (before Zane was de-overlorded anyways, after that he opens up the borders). Only about 50% of the time would those citizens actually get out of the city, the other 50% of the time they'd be sold to someone/somewhere or killed. Kai's allies with them (I haven't figured out exactly who that is yet lol). Another ally is Wen Xia (oc talk sorry) who's just a general power. Usually runs a fighting ring(s) but does a bunch of other stuff. Very dangerous and very rich. Kai just has a lot of connections and a strangle-hold on a lot of ninjago. MAN this got LONG. thank you for the questions I love the chance to info dump, haha!

(and TY!! Jay's one of my favorite designs too)