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wifelinkmtg · 2 years

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Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia

There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. - Lewis Carroll, “The Lobster Quadrille,”

ONE.

There is a moment early in H.P. Lovecraft’s 1931 novella The Shadow over Innsmouth where the nameless narrator looks out from the rotting seaside hamlet where he has lucklessly ventured, to the so-called Devil Reef some ways out in the harbor, darkened by a cloud of evil rumor—and something curious happens: the narrator experiences two opposed sensations simultaneously. The “long, black line” of the reef conveys “a suggestion of odd latent malignancy,” but also, “a subtle, curious sense of beckoning seemed superadded to the grim repulsion.” This bit of foreshadowing—the reef both calling and repelling the narrator—only finds its denouement at the very end of the story, after our narrator has narrowly escaped Innsmouth, the fish-like monsters who swarm in off of Devil Reef and their part-human descendants who inhabit the town in an unconvincing and repellent simulacrum of humanity. After his escape, the narrator does some genealogical research into his own troubled family history, full of disappearances and suicides, and concludes that he himself is one such abyssal hybrid. As he ages, he finds himself changing to resemble them, and in his dreams he swims among them in undersea palaces and gardens. The call of the deep becomes impossible to ignore:

So far I have not shot myself as my uncle Douglas did. I bought an automatic and almost took the step, but certain dreams deterred me. The tense extremes of horror are lessening, and I feel queerly drawn toward the unknown sea-deeps instead of fearing them. I hear and do strange things in sleep, and awake with a kind of exaltation instead of terror.

In the end, the narrator embraces the change and determines to flee to those oceanic depths, to live “amidst wonder and glory for ever.”

This is horror.

Something curious also happens in Shirley Jackson’s 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House. Our heroine, Eleanor Vance, flees an unhappy life with a loveless sister to a haunted house, to take part in a paranormal experiment with three new friends. The haunting proceeds predictably but effectively: labyrinthine corridors, voices, unearthly cold, banging on doors, the rare apparition. The participants find themselves see-sawing between increasing night-time terror and a strangely intense joie de vivre by day, until one night, as the house seems to shake itself down upon its terrified guests in a dizzying cataclysm, Eleanor breaks:

She heard the laughter over all, coming thin and lunatic, rising in its little crazy tune, and thought, No; it is over for me. It is too much, she thought, I will relinquish my possession of this self of mine, abdicate, give over willingly what I never wanted at all; whatever it wants of me it can have.

By the next line, it is abruptly morning. The terror has ceased; the house stands. Its manifestations, for Eleanor, become benign: an unseen figure catches her beside a brook,

and she was held tight and safe. It is not cold at all, she thought, it is not cold at all.

She is through the horror now, on the other side of something. She becomes part of the haunting. Her senses encompass the whole of the house. She runs unafraid through the house by night, banging on doors, laughing as she eludes the other guests. When they finally catch up to her, it seems clear to them that Hill House has crept into her, that she has crossed some line, and they decide the best course of action is to send her away, in the hopes that with time she will return to this side, the normal side, the human side.

Instead, faced with rejection behind her and her old unhappy life before her, Eleanor Vance steers her car into a tree. There are holes which admit passage in only one direction. This, too, is horror.

In the 2018 film Annihilation, Lena (played by Natalie Portman) crosses a literal barrier called the Shimmer into a dangerous yet beautiful alien landscape full of mutated creatures. During their journey deeper into this territory, Lena and her companions realize that they themselves are also changing under the alien influence. Some break under the realization. Some surrender to the change and vanish into the landscape. Lena alone returns from the heart of the phenomenon, but she is no longer herself. Is this still horror? The film has many horror elements to it, but in this last moment, as she embraces her similarly-transformed husband, it is something else.

Cyberqueen, a 2012 text game created by Porpentine, draws on a legacy of godlike malevolent artificial intelligences in fiction (AM, from Harlan Ellison’s “I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream,” GladOS from the Portal games, and most importantly SHODAN from the System Shock series, who is cited as an inspiration eleven times in the Cyberqueen acknowledgements.) In this game, you awake from cryosleep on a colony spaceship where the shipboard AI has gone rogue. You fight her. You lose. You run. You are caught. You are forcibly cyberized, your mind surgically altered, your will brought into line with that of the AI. Finally, you kill or mutilate every other surviving human aboard the ship. It is filthily, overwhelmingly erotic throughout. (You can play it here, and I strongly recommend doing so if you have the stomach for it.)

This is no longer horror, is it? How can the same sort of transformation we encounter as horror in Lovecraft be encountered here as something to get off to? Well,

TWO.

I don’t remember now where I got the idea from, but there was a period in my childhood where I was terrified of the idea of time travel—specifically of the idea that someone in the future would invent it, travel to before I was born, and through the butterfly effect cause me to be born a girl instead. I used to lie awake at night circling the idea like a broken tooth. It was an irrational fear on multiple levels: I wasn’t afraid of being written out of the timeline through time travel, and I knew, intellectually, that in the timeline where I was born a girl I would have no memory of ever having been anything else, but even so, the horror of it caught me and held me by the throat.

This meant something, of course—in retrospect obvious, but at the time literally unimaginable, and it wasn’t until college, sitting at my computer in the dark in my dorm room at three in the morning, following the itching in my brain, that I unearthed alchemical knowledge: the transmutation of sex, male into female, in a dizzying profusion of form and process and—okay what I’m saying is I discovered forced feminization porn, yeah? It was revelatory. It was squalid. I was still Christian and couldn’t even bring myself to jerk off yet, so I sat there, the itch in my brain grown into a thunderous buzz, unable or unwilling to look away.

Forced feminization—I promise this is relevant—is the unwilling transformation of (usually) a man into (usually) a hyper-feminine woman, accomplished by a wide variety of means, including but not limited to blackmail, magic potions, nanite swarms, cursed artifacts, hacks or glitches in virtual reality programs, badly-worded wishes, industrial accidents, chemical leaks, abduction and surgery, medical malpractice, and hypnosis. You may notice that many if not all of these scenarios could be made into horror with little change, and in fact it is not uncommon for a poorly-written or over-ambitious forced-fem story to wind up as horror by accident (though of course this greatly depends on the tastes of the individual reader.)

(As an aside, I’d like to note that there is a great deal to learn from porn—not in terms of How to Do Sex, but about how the culture which produced it thinks about sex, and gender, and race and morality and technology and a host of other things. It’s a lot like popping the hood of a car and examining the engine. Sure, you wind up greasy and should probably wash your hands before you rejoin polite company, but if you don’t, you’ll never figure out the underlying issues. Actually, it’s a lot like horror in that regard.)

Let’s talk about a very different transformation I was undergoing at the same time: the loss of my faith. I was raised, as mentioned, very Christian—and in one of the worst strains of fundamentalist white American Evangelicalism. I was a true believer: the world for me was entirely divided between the faithful elect and the unbelievers, who must necessarily know the truth of the (fundamentalist white American Evangelical) gospel in their hearts, but had wilfully chosen to oppose Christ. The prospect of passing from the elect into the category of the unbeliever was unthinkable. The process of deconversion led only into the outer darkness and the weeping and gnashing of teeth.

And yet I found myself on that precipice anyway. The worldview of FWAE is not one which survives too much contact with the actual world, and I had chosen against my parents’ preferences to go to a secular university, the better to witness to the unsaved. In the end, the process I had been mortally afraid of consisted of a couple days’ agonized thought, unanswered prayer and tearful calls to my unresponsive parents and pastor, after which I emerged into a world much bigger and much more complex than the one I’d grown up in. The serpent had told the truth after all: I had eaten of the fruit, and had not died.

Okay: is this horror? Reader, forgive me for presupposing anything about your perspective, but you’re on a horny lesbian Magic: the Gathering card art review tumblr, so I’m going to assume that losing one’s hateful, fundamentalist faith is the opposite of horrifying to you. But it was, absolutely, horror to contemplate for someone on the other side of that process.

But then... is the horror of any given transformation only a matter of where you’re standing? If you read The Shadow over Innsmouth aware of Lovecraft’s profound racism, it becomes very, very obvious that the horror of Innsmouth is the specter of miscegenation. The narrator’s horrified cataloging of the facial features of the offspring of fishmen and humans, the South Pacific origin of the sea-devil-worship of Innsmouth brought back by an enterprising merchant captain, the fear of the unsuspected poison of one’s own ancestry lurking in one’s own blood: all of this is much less effective as horror for someone living in a country where interracial marriages are protected under law and seen as unproblematic in consensus morality (assume whatever asterisks are necessary for the complicated landscape of attitudes toward interracial relationships in the United States, please, I do not have the expertise or desire to get into it here.) My point is that since 1967 (asterisk asterisk asterisk), we are through to the other side of that horror, and it turns out there literally wasn’t anything to be afraid of. The pelagial palaces and terraced coral gardens of Y’ha-nthlei just sound beautiful to me.

And it’s hard for me—though I may be in the minority here—to view Hill House as the primary antagonist in Jackson’s novel. The true source of evil is all the things Eleanor runs from and therefore brings with her: her cruel, deceased mother, her exploitation and infantilization by her sister; as well as the final polite unwillingness of her new friends at Hill House to do anything but send her away once she goes inconveniently mad. These mundane ills are what sends Eleanor Vance careening into the tree, not the supernatural will of malignant architecture.

Here, then, is the better part of my thesis: transformation horror is something that can be traversed. You can come out the other end of a transformation unrecognizable to you-as-you-were, and yet still very much yourself. Moreover, it is this navigability, this double-sidedness which so closely links the horror of transformation to the eros of transformation. Not all transformation horror, passed through, becomes plainly erotic, but it is very often portrayed as a kind of seduction, and it is difficult for me to conceive of eros without some kind of change. Desire is a kind of transformation, is it not?

In fact, isn’t it true that a great many of us have already passed through such a transformation? Recall yourself as a child, as you were when you first learned about sex: wasn’t there something repellent and unhygienic about the idea? Wasn’t there a small horror in being told, you will change, and this will cease to be loathsome and become something you desire fervently, something you seek out, something you go to great lengths to experience? ...or were you, possibly, raised in a family & culture that was normal about sex and bodies? I admit I may be generalizing my individual neuroses to some extent here. Well, stet, at the very least you can see where I’m coming from.

THREE.

Returning for a moment to the subject of porn: why forced feminization, specifically? There are—you’re going to have to trust me here—no shortage of ways in the real world by which a man transforms into a woman, and very few of them involve coercion or all the horror-adjacent setup of, say, mind-control devices or vengeful curses. Why does a simple story of a willing gender transition fail to function as erotica? Why did it take stories of unwilling transformation for me to learn I was transgender? What’s the juice ne sais quoi at play in forced-fem?

Well, how does Luke Skywalker come to leave Tatooine? He gets a mysterious message from a princess, a desert wizard tells him to come help rescue her, and... he says no. He has obligations to family here, a job to do, power converters to bring back from Tosche Station. He is enmeshed in a social web, like all of us: it surrounds us, penetrates us, binds the galaxy together and so forth. So in order for Luke to go on grand adventures, the story needs to murder his aunt and uncle and sever those threads of social obligation.

Joseph Campbell, monomyth monomane that he was, would say this is “Refusing the Call” and find it in Jungian shadow on every cave wall, signifying something important in the heart of humanity, but really this is just a useful storytelling tool: a story needs change, but a virtuous protagonist cannot simply abandon their obligations and designated social role to go gallivanting off into space, so change must be forced upon them.

The bodice-ripper romance novel, the rape fantasy, the forced feminization story are all operating on a similar premise: you are so wrapped in society’s web, in your socially-dictated identity, that you cannot even acknowledge your desires on the level of conscious thought. When these things are enacted on your body, you will find yourself changed by the experience. You will love what has been done to you, and you remain blameless, since it’s not as though you sought this out.

These are liberatory fantasies. The lack of consent is precisely what allows you to move beyond what is permitted you into something new.

Incantation Against Bad-Faith Interpretation because I, a transsexual, just called rape fantasies “liberatory”: I am talking about fantasies, I am talking about why people fantasize about having their consent violated, I am talking about the role such fantasies play and what they can tell us about horror and desire. I am not advocating for real people to have real bad things done to them in real life, fuck off, End of Incantation.

So then, we’ve assembled the full thesis: transformation horror is traversible to the other side, and is inextricably linked to transformation erotica, both because of the seduction of transformation in horror and because the horror of transformation unlocks regions of desire which would otherwise have remained inaccessible.

Okay, now we can talk about Phyrexia.

FOUR.

I hear the roar of the big machine / Two worlds and in between / Hot metal and methedrine / I hear empire down

- The Sisters of Mercy, “Lucretia My Reflection”, from Floodland

Phyrexia is many things—a world, another world, a faction, a kind of creature—but I think it can most succinctly be understood as a virulently contagious biomechanical body horror cult dedicated to the ultimate incorporation of all things into itself. It’s a bit like Star Trek’s the Borg, if the Borg had any style whatsoever. It draws heavy inspiration from H. R. Giger’s work—some Phyrexian horrors are barely-altered versions of the xenomorph from Alien—as well as from Clive Barker’s Cenobites in Hellraiser, whose alien BDSM schtick is especially influential on the aesthetic of New Phyrexia. It is transmitted through glistening oil, an infection vector capable of reshaping bodies and minds, and given enough time, whole worlds. The process by which a being is made into a Phyrexian, “compleation,” is accomplished via glistening oil exposure, surgery, cyberization, and brainwashing.

This essay is in many ways a response to Rhystic Studies’ latest video, called “Phyrexia is Hell”. I think it’s a well-made video, as is true of all Sam Gaglio’s work, and a lot of it is really good—the overview of the nearly-thirty-year history of depictions of Phyrexia in Magic: the Gathering art is invaluable, and the stuff about the Phyrexian conlang is unbelievably cool—but the way he identifies Phyrexia one-to-one with a pretty facile understanding of transhumanism leads him to confused and frankly silly conclusions, like placing Phyrexian compleation on the same continuum with cosmetic orthodontics. Like,

Mandible Justiciar (art by Mike Franchina)

Phyrexia is perfectly happy for you to have teeth in your arms instead of your head! They don’t care about the narrow ideal of a conventionally-attractive human smile. This is a whole other thing.

Now, I don’t want to come down too hard on Gaglio here for a couple of reasons: one, he is very good at what he does (see his videos Understanding Sagas and Red Deck Wins, for example); two, it’s reasonable to say that a full understanding of transhumanism is beyond the scope of a video essay about the tiny pictures on cards for dweebs; and three, most importantly, because I see people make this same mistake all the time. People focus on the things that are textually true about Phyrexia and miss the tension between that and the very different things currently being said by the Phyrexian aesthetic. They miss the razorverge thicket, as it were, for the mycosynth trees.

For instance: it is textually the case that Phyrexia is a sort of fascist cult stemming from the depraved machinations of a dead eugenicist god. Contrast, however, other fascist factions in science fiction: the Imperium of Man from Warhammer 40K worships a massive Aryan god-emperor übermensch, its battles are fought by nine-foot-tall genetically-engineered supersoldiers, and it slaps either skulls or chainsaws on every available surface. The Galactic Empire from Star Wars has legions of identical, uniform stormtroopers. Even the Borg all look alike. Phyrexians talk of ideal perfection of form and then make ten thousand completely different monsters. Phyrexians talk of perfect unity and splinter into nearly a dozen factions who can’t even agree on a name for what they’re trying to accomplish. Other fictional fascisms don’t do this—sure, there’s internal contradiction, as in real fascism, but the core aesthetic remains recognizably, sometimes indistinguishably fascist. You can easily find terminally-online Nazis using Warhammer 40K lingo with that peculiar sincerity which is indistinguishable from irony when you’ve decided the truth doesn’t matter, but it would be a lot harder to find some alt-right bozo going all-in on the Glory of Phyrexia. The aesthetic is all wrong, and fascism’s aesthetic is one of its few consistent features.

Mondrak, Glory Dominus (art by Jason A. Engle)

You see what I mean? The aesthetic evokes a sort of alien fascism, but the art itself would be considered “degenerate” by actual fascists.

Tamiyo’s Immobilizer (art by Daren Bader)

This is much, much closer to Mapplethorpe than to Riefenstahl. And people respond to Phyrexia similarly! The body horror and grotesquerie make them uncomfortable, and then they try to moralize that discomfort. This has been happening at the very least since 2011 with the release of New Phyrexia, and I have seen people on Tumblr arguing in total sincerity that people who are into Phyrexia are making themselves susceptible to real-life cult recruitment (again, the heterogeneity of form in Phyrexia is incompatible with the enforced uniformity of cults and other high-control groups. The appeal of Phyrexia does not translate into real-life cults.)

So, okay, what is the appeal of Phyrexia? Well, you get a sick fuckin cyborg body, is what. Many of us, for various reasons (disability, disease, gender, and so forth) find ourselve intensely dissatisfied with our own bodies, and wanting to radically alter them. Many of us already have. Yes, you surrender your humanity when you are compleated, but we know first-hand that “humanity” is socially-constructed and contingent on certain kinds of conformity. We’ve had our humanity doubted, interrogated, stripped away. We’ve done without. It’s not too high a price to pay, if we get to look like this at the end:

Vraska, Betrayal’s Sting (art by Chase Stone)

I’d even argue that getting to reject humanity as it has rejected you is part of the appeal of compleation. This isn’t quite transhumanism; I might call it exhumanism: the freedom to unearth a way of being that is no longer being human. This is why compleation is coercive, remember? The fantasy allows you to get to this point without making the unimaginable decision to reject not only your individual social obligations, but the idea that you could owe anyone or everyone any kind of social conformity simply for having been born into your species—and then you get to be a cool and powerful cybergorgon.

This, then, is why I don’t blame someone like Sam Gaglio (who is to the best of my knowledge both cisgender and able-bodied) for not really getting what’s going on with Phyrexia. He lives on the before side of the horror of transformation; he’s never had to cross over.

In fact, I’d go one step further here. Phyrexia has existed for almost thirty years, and in that time it’s changed quite a bit. Gaglio quotes an article by Rob Bockman in Hipsters of the Coast which comments on how the shift in the depictions of Phyrexia from 1994 to 2000 reflected shifts in cultural fears over time. The Satanic Panic shaded into multidirectional Y2K anxieties, and the necromancy of original Phyrexia mutated into technological horror. This is what effective horror does: it reflects the fears of its age back to us.

Today, Phyrexia is a seductive, corrupting influence. They have figured out how to compleat planeswalkers—the protagonists of Magic storylines; named, important characters (and Lukka)—which was previously thought impossible. Characters we knew and loved (and Lukka) are seduced, brainwashed, bodily violated, surgically altered, and returned to us unrecognizable. It is not coincidental that this version of Phyrexia is concurrent with the worst wave of anti-transgender legislation to hit the United States in decades—legislation which plays on the specters of the transsexual bathroom predator and on the brainwashed child transitioner, on the idea that transsexuality is a form of social contagion we must protect our children from even learning about. The horror of Phyrexia in its current incarnation is a mirror of our cultural fear of transsexual bodies.

Irreversible Damage: the Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters (art by Lauren K. Cannon)

I want to be very clear here—actually, one moment, my extremely funny Abigail Schrier joke notwithstanding, I do need to tell you that the actual name of the above card is “Furnace Punisher”, which is just peak Phyrexia—I want to be clear that I am not ascribing any kind of malice or antipathy towards trans people, either intentional or unconscious, to Wizards of the Coast or the people who make Magic: the Gathering. I would be shocked if anyone there set out to make Innsmouth-style horror about transsexuals. Nor am I upset that they kind of have! Something being fun and interesting is way more important to me than whether or not it’s problematic, and it’s not like I haven’t seen way more vicious horror about transsexuals. We’ll laugh about this someday, in the coral gardens of Y’ha-nthlei, and you’ll wonder what you were ever so afraid of.

In fact, this is another reason why Phyrexia is so appealing to people like us: we are a kind of social contagion. We are carriers for the viral idea that modes of being outside patriarchy and the nuclear family exist; that gender is a marketing demographic, not an ontological truth; that damn near everything about the world we’ve built is not a necessary fact but a social construct contingent upon a half-dozen other social constructs. A new world grows from many, many seeds, and this one germinates in us.

Anyway! What were we talking aboFIVE.

//please state your name for the record

bone-wife / spit-dribbler / understudy for the underdog / uphill rumor / fine-toothed cunt

- Franny Choi, “Turing Test”, from Death by Sex Machine

Elesh Norn, Grand Cenobite (art by Igor Kieryluk)

There is a gravitational pull this painting exerts on people. Even people who don’t get Phyrexia find themselves drawn in, find it difficult to look away (e.g. 26:30 in that Rhystic Studies video.) I have for a long time maintained that Elesh Norn is the hottest character in Magic, and that Kieryluk’s portrayal of her is the best art in Magic, and neither of these opinions are particularly surprising coming from me. What is surprising is just how many people also converge on Miss Multiverse’s-Most-Fuckable-Pyramid-Head as, not just a sex icon of Magic: the Gathering, but the sex icon.

Well, or is it? Giant anchor-shaped porcelain mask aside, her silhouette is more or less that of a painfully-thin woman; she stands fully twelve feet tall, and we remember how wild everyone went over Resident Evil: Village’s woman who was only three-quarters of that; and though not an artificial intelligence herself, it’s hard not to place her somewhere in the Cyberqueen lineage. Like SHODAN, like GladOS, like Cyberqueen, she exerts a near-omnipotent level of control over (part of) her world; like them, she is a megalomaniacal egotist (though she cloaks her egotism in piety); like them, she is happy to render you more useful to her via surgery, brainwashing, or deadly neurotoxin. Her mask obscures where her eyes would be, and if I’ve learned anything from a decade of playing or mostly watching other people play the various Dark Souls games, it’s that people go apeshit for character designs without visible eyes (see also: the xenomorph from Alien; I did a whole thing on this subject somewhere back in the Wifelink archive.) So you’ve got a 12′ nigh-omnipotent eyeless dominatrix mostly shaped like a skinny woman, which is maybe pushing a whole lot of buttons at once for a lot of people.

As a character, we don’t know much about her: at some point, she became undisputed leader of the Machine Orthodoxy, the cultiest bit of New Phyrexia. At a later point, she became the extremely-disputed leader of New Phyrexia as a whole. She likes long walks on the beach and multiversal Phyrexian dominion, you get it. There is, however, one good story featuring her, and it is “A Garden of Flesh” by Lora Gray (sorry to give you additional reading in a five-thousand-word essay.) The story is interesting because it is the rare story told from a Phyrexian point of view, and because it flies in the face of many of our assumptions about Phyrexian interiority. Phyrexians, we’re told, lack souls. They’re unfeeling, more machine than man. They most certainly don’t dream.

“A Garden of Flesh” is what happens when Ashiok, planeswalker architect of nightmares and an eyeless smokeshow in their own right, gets curious about whether they can induce nightmares in a Phyrexian mind. What follows is a curiously-effective piece of body & transformation horror, told from the point of view of what is supposed to be the awful endpoint of transformation horror. What does a perfect, powerful biomechanical creature fear? The organic, soft, spongy. Putrefaction. Decay. What does such a creature fear becoming? Human.

I didn’t devote a fifth of this essay to Elesh Norn just because she’s unbelievably hot (although dayenu), but because of this story, and how it complicates our thesis. The horror of transformation is traversible, yes, but what will you find on the other side? More transformation. More horror. And transformation is inevitable: who of us are who we expected to be? Who of us still hold dear the precious things of childhood? And even you few who are raising your hands right now, you too will experience transformation. Should you live long enough, you will find yourself changing. Your body and mind will grow rebellious, unreliable. You will grow old. You will decay.

And yet—it’s a matter of perspective, of where you weight your focus, isn’t it? There will always be more transformation and more horror, but there will always be a way through it. There will always be another shore upon the other side. You will change. You will become unrecognizable to who you were before. You will be fine.

Incompleat Bibliography & Further Reading/Viewing/Playing

Rhystic Studies, “Phyrexia is Hell”, 2023. H. P. Lovecraft, The Shadow over Innsmouth, 1931. Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House, 1959. Alex Garland, Annihilation, 2018. Harlan Ellison, “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream”, 1967. Ken Levine, System Shock 2, 1999. —never played it myself. Mostly I just open up a youtube video of SHODAN voice lines when I want to get belittled by an AI dominatrix. Valve, Portal 2, 2011. —there is a lot more to be said about GladOS and Elesh Norn specifically and their respective fraught relationships with the idea of their own humanity. Porpentine Charity Heartscape, Cyberqueen, 2012. —whence my chapter header screenshots. Seriously, this game fucks so hard. Franny Choi, Death by Sex Machine, 2017. —Choi is making extensive use of cyborg metaphor to address the specific experience of being a Korean-American woman. This is very different from anything I’m talking about, but it also always felt extremely relevant to me as a trans woman. Subaltern-to-subaltern communication. Lora Gray, “A Garden of Flesh,” 2022. —it’s no accident that the author of the one good story told from a Phyrexian POV is nonbinary. hbomberguy, “Outsiders: How To Adapt H.P. Lovecraft In the 21st Century”, 2018. Jacob Geller, “Who’s Afraid of Modern Art: Vandalism, Video Games, and Fascism”, 2019. Caitlín R Kiernan, The Drowning Girl: A Memoir, 2012. —only tangentially relevant, except insofar as it recontextualizes the Lewis Carroll line I open the essay with, and insofar as it is my favorite novel and I’m writing the bibliography. Debatable whether it counts as transformation horror, and I imagine the author would bridle at its being described as horror, but nevertheless: you should read this book.

#magic the gathering #phyrexia

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tvxqmylove · 11 months

Text

Let's raise our glasses to Izzy and OFMD creators

I just have to get it off my chest, I understand Izzy's death came as a shock and very upsetting event for many, and a lot of people are going on and on about how he deserved a better fate and how he was not just some tool to serve someone else's story. Please try to calm down and see the bigger picture.

It is now clear that he was always meant to die. It was foreshadowed in the first minute of the second season, a ridiculous, villain's death. Being the symbolic obstacle to Stede and Ed's happiness.

Of course that was the wrong way for him to go. When he confessed to his crush Blackbeard he got shot by him, almost died, begged to be killed, and then he even tried to kill himself. Still didn't work. It wasn’t his time yet and that was the wrong way for him to go. When he learned that he was loved and cared for after all, just not in the way he expected, he changed. He became positive, he became forgiving. Then he stopped being miserable he started genuinely wishing for the happiness of others as well, instead of being bitter about it. His death might not have a point but his life did. He had the crew's and Ed's and even Stede's back, and they knew it. As David Jenkins stated, he played the role of a wise mentor that was passing along his life experiences to others. Then it was his time. Also, as foreshadowed, he symbolically took away Blackbeard, and opened a way for Stede and Ed as well.

A happy ending is not only walking off to sunset with a lover, taking up a new job or walking into a house of your family and petting your dog before you close the door. A good death, and a life well-lived is a happy ending. Leaving behind people that loved you is a happy ending. This was a happy ending for him.

He lived the way he wanted, as a pirate, an infamous one that has received respect and recognition. Then he resolved the parts of his life that became problematic and toxic, he repaired the relationships

that was broken, he forgave the people he needed to forgive. After going through hell, he was basically a bubble of positivity, going around giving solid advices, encouraging people and partying. He was done. He gave the best damn speech of his life at a bar like giving his own eulogy and it was awesome. He died at the arms of the person he loved the most.

Yes he could have had more, everyone that ever died could have had more. But he died gracefully and complete, surrounded by people he loved and cared about, knowing that they will be fine. That was his story. I am sad that he died, but he died beautifully, best you can hope for in a pirate life. And he will live on, in the hearts of the people he touched by his existence.

Finally, never harass the creators. It is their hard work that gave us Izzy in the first place. Trust their creative process, and afterwards take it or leave it, do not harass them and try to put them in a box of your personal demands. If so, what kind of 3rd season can we even expect?

#ofmd #ofms s2 #ofmd season 2 spoilers #izzy hands #israel hands #our flag means death #blackbeard #david jenkins #edward teach #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #ofmd izzy #ofmd season 2 #ofmd spoilers #renew as a crew #con o'neill #rhys darby #taika waititi #stede bonnet

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vadersassistant · 1 year

Note

Hiiii

wo dering if you could do an enemies to lover anakin imagine. kind of like friends to enemies to lovers or something like that and it ends in them making out o whatever you are comfortable with.

Anyways thank youuu

Denial One Shot (Darth Vader x Reader)

Summary: After venturing into a Sith Temple to try and find an edge on the current war, (Y/N) meets her enemy, Lord Vader, the man who killed her best friend and secret lover. He has been hunting both her and her alias down for months, following her across the galaxy, but little does she know, he has no plans to kill her. Takes place in the temple seen in the Star Wars Rebels season two finale. Reader was previously a Jedi and is in hiding due to order 66.

Warnings: Make out session

A/N: (Y/N) does not know Vader is Anakin, and Vader does not know (Y/N) is the Fugitive he has been searching for. This is once again a mix of suited Vader and nightfall Vader. In which, Vader wears the suit and mask, but he can take it off and looks like the Anakin we know and love.

The temple was eerie, an odd feeling passing by with each step you took. It was the opposite of the one I grew up in, representing everything I was told to dislike, and yet I was here anyways. I had made up my mind to fight instead of continuing to run from the problem. I wasn’t a rebel, but I wasn’t an imperial either. I was the middle ground, a former Jedi with a new identity, a mask to shield my face so that I could live freely, but the saber still gave it away. I was good, too good to be a civilian having fun with an old relic, even though some still used them publicly. Some, as in him.

The Jedi fell and Lord Vader rose out of thin air. There was no preface, no foreshadowing, he just came, and everyone bowed their heads.

To outsiders he was a military leader trained in combat, who happened to use an imaginary power. To force users, like Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and I, he was a Sith. We all knew it the second he began hunting us down. He wanted the Jedi dead and made it clear when he began searching for my alias as well. Everyone knew who she was, I was put on every single imperial security watch available, but I evaded it all I could. I forged a new saber, so that they couldn’t track me that way, and told people about how the female jedi on the Holonets from the clone wars died. The only people who truly knew were Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, since they too had done something similar. He was Ben, she was Ashla, and I gained the name Fugitive, a mask being the only way to keep track of my identity.

I couldn’t count how many storm-troopers I had killed by now, just that I did. I was forced to, to keep myself alive, because he wanted me turned in. I was always told to run, to flee from Vader because of what he’s done, but all I wanted was for the man to wind up dead. A lust for revenge had developed ever since I learned what he did to my best friend, Anakin Skywalker.

I don’t even know how he could have killed a warrior like him, but he did and now he’s gone. Slaughtered like any other while trying to save people in the temple, something someone with his character would have done naturally. The worst part is that everyone he was trying to save is dead too, and that he could have escaped with us, had he not done what he did. He had a wife, Senator Amidala, a good friend of mine, who also died that night, although I wasn’t sure if they ended on good terms.

The two had been arguing for a while, he believed she was cheating on him with Obi Wan, although she continued to deny it along with everyone else. I was the only one who he talked to about his problems willingly, even Kenobi would have to go through reading his mind to talk about personal issues. It was only when Anakin died that the truth came out, that being that Anakin was right, and she was seeing Kenobi.

I hadn’t recognized him after that point. I knew he was afraid he would be kicked out of the Jedi order if we found out he was dating another woman. Even further, the fact he knowingly was allowing the affair to happen, but it occurred anyways, and he lost everything with it. That was consequence enough, he didn’t need me to yell at him any further for going that far.

Still, I was angry, because I cared about Anakin.

And also loved him.

I denied it for years, the helpless prodding’s from Ahsoka when the two of us would spend hours upon hours with each other. We carried out the entire war effort, working extremely close together on missions. It was no surprise that I liked him, he had even mentioned subtly what things would be like if he hadn’t met her. It sounded like he regretted it, but I had no clue, due to us being force users.

I now stood in front of the man who took him away, the one that gutted him in the chest like a fish with no care whatsoever. The man that had been hunting me down under both my names since the night of the fall, the one that was known for murdering everyone in his path. I don’t know how he found me, I had a feeling we were being followed, but I didn’t care. We needed the Holocron inside of the temple, and Ahsoka now had it in hand. I could sense their distraught, both behind me looking at the Sith in front of us. They didn’t want to fight him; they were afraid to fight him. I felt differently, looking at his mask through the visors of my own.

“It was foretold that you would be here, our long-awaited meeting has come at last."

“This meeting is over,” Ahsoka said.

“Are you so sure?” the Sith questioned through the modulated voice his mask provided him, as I stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan asked me, his breath becoming short.

“Leave."

“No," he shook his head. "Don’t do this."

“Leave. Now.”

I looked up at the temple’s ceiling as the walls started to drop down. It was collapsing on itself, since the Holocron had been taken from the Obelisk. There wasn’t much to do, but I knew I didn’t want to pull them into this. I turned around and outstretched a hand.

Ahsoka screamed as I force pushed both her and Obi-Wan back while the temple’s walls crashed down. I saw her figure fly back just before the drop and felt her gently land. There was a ship, they could leave, I would worry about myself after I killed him.

“We’re finishing this here,” I said. "I know you've been hunting me for the past months."

“You are courageous, unlike your friends,” the Sith mused. “Hateful.”

“You killed my best friend," I pointed out. "I want you to experience that same pain."

“Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he reminded. "Your confidence dilutes your ability to make rational decisions."

“I am no Jedi.”

“Then who are you? Your saber is unlike any I have ever seen, an identity successfully hidden behind a helm.”

“That’s none of your business, why have you been hunting me?” I asked. I felt the pressure of the Dark Side creeping against my mind's barriers, he was trying to invade.

“You would make a wonderful apprentice in the dark side,” Vader said. "You have already abandoned your training as a Jedi."

“I don’t side with murderers.”

“And yet you are one. I have seen your way of fighting Fugitive; you have killed countless of our troops and inquisitors.”

“Your Inquisitorious is an embarrassment, and I will never join you, not after what you did,” I called my saber to my hand, igniting it.

“Then you will die.”

There was this feeling of fear that attempted to wash over me, like he was attempting to throw me off, but I wasn't thinking about it anymore.

I ran full speed at him, force pushing myself up off the ground and into the air to try and put myself on the offensive. My blade met his right over his helmet, as he angled me back and I landed behind him. My automatic response was to try and swing for his legs, a move he evaded but had been surprised by. I knew I needed to be careful with how I played things. He would try and tire me out by just playing the defensive, but I also didn’t get that tired frow much stamina I built up during the war. Vader was also bigger, and stronger, meaning I’d need to use his weight to my advantage. I was quick, less stable, and grounded, and more agile in my movements.

We continued to take shots at each other, as he seemingly began to test me. It was a constant switch from the right to the left, bashing at each other from different angles and walking along with it. It was something Anakin and I always did, and it almost felt familiar. For whatever reason, I could feel myself getting into the rhythm Skywalker and I got into when we would train every day. After a certain point I would always switch my grip and force him to back off, and I did it purely out of muscle memory, shoving the Sith back.

“Your anger focuses you,” he commented. “Join me and I can enhance that power.”

“You killed him, the man I loved, do you truly believe I would ever consider that?”

“He is gone for a reason,” Vader said.

“He was the chosen one!” I shouted, interlocking lightsabers in a pursuit for power over the other. "You know why he lost his life?! Because he was trying to save everyone else, instead of actually caring for himself for once."

“(Y/N)."

I stumbled back immediately, hearing that name leave his mouth,

"What?"

My eyes widened beneath the visors, letting my guard down for just a moment.

It was all he needed.

I felt his immense force break through my walls and invade my mind, clawing through my memories and thoughts like a file. Not only that, but he immediately took me to the ground. It was quick, as he now straddled me, muscular thighs resting over my lower waist. Both my arms were pinned to either side with by the force, my saber in his hand.

I grunted, struggling under him and thrusting against his cod piece hoping it would make him budge but it barely made a difference. I couldn’t do a thing, as the Sith reached for my mask and pressed down on the sides. I felt it depressurize, as his gloved digits lifted it off my head, and I looked into his mask with my own eyes.

"How do you know my name?" I asked angrily as I fought underneath him to free myself.

There was no way of telling what he truly felt in that moment, holding the helm silently, breathing being the only indication he was still alive. I continued to try and do everything to get out of his grasp, but the Sith only sat there and took me in, his body heat lingering over my own. I felt like a mess, wondering where Ahsoka and Obi-Wan might be right now, realizing why Anakin lost his life to this man. I didn’t know how he knew my name, my real name, the one that no one had called me in months. I was fully pinned down, not giving up until I saw him reach for his own helmet.

"What are you do—"

My throat ran dry, amber eyes piercing through my body like a blade.

"Anakin."

It was him, with brown hair that held golden streaks just above his armor.

"(Y/N)."

Hearing his voice sent a shiver down my entire back, as I shuddered underneath him.

“I thought you died—they said Vader killed you—" there were tears welling up in my eyes, looking up at him.

“I am alive."

“Why did you turn?"

“The Jedi council was using us, Obi-Wan lied to me about Padme (Y/N), they were having an affair. But you know that already.”

“Obi Wan told us,” I trailed off.

“I know.”

“Do you plan to kill me?”

“No, that was never my intent," he emphasized lowly.

“So, what will you do?” I questioned.

“After separating myself from the order, I reflected much upon it,” Anakin started. "And came to terms with several of my mistakes."

“What mistakes?”

Still straddling me Anakin leaned down, placing his hands by either sides of my head and lowering himself to my ear.

“I was blindly dating filthy senator, when I had the love of my life right next to me the entire time."

"What do you mean?" I emphasized each word, my abdomen tensing as he got so close to me.

"There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of my future and imagine you by my side. I told myself it was our strong bond causing me to think of you constantly, due to the amount of time we spent together, but now, I feel completely different."

"Anakin," my heart was racing, as he continued to whisper into my ear.

"Maker, I missed you so much."

He was just trying to be friendly, that's all this was.

"Now, I know you are not that naive," he let out a deep chuckle, reading my mind.

"Is this your way of coercing me into joining the dark side?" I said softly, trying to play it off.

"There is no need to coerce you (Y/N), your heart is already doing all the work," Anakin told me. "All there is to do is to make up for lost time."

"No.."

"Continuing to deny it is only stalling the inevitable," he spoke in a playful way. "Your hatred towards the one you believed to be my killer only proves it more."

"I—" I cut myself off, as Anakin moved his head, now right over mine.

"What is it?" he asked me, his golden eyes flicking from my lips up to my eyes in quick fashion.

I gave in, nodding to his silent question and feeling the force lift off my hands.

Anakin pressed his lips to mine as I lifted my head up and met him midway. His robotic hand came down to my waist, the other combing through my hair as he helped hold my head steady. It was delicate and prepared, goosebumps crawling over my skin as his weight pressed me onto the cold temple floors. He was an expert in the way he worked around my mouth, the first time I had ever kissed anyone to begin with.

To think such a sacred place would be ruined due to our own shenanigans.

A Jedi and a Sith, making out in a temple with no care for sentiment.

His lips were chapped yet soft, and the more breaths we took between kissing the more swollen they became. Anakin didn’t seem to care though, continuing to go down on my neck allowing me to breath. He wasn’t going too far, but it was enough for the occasion, leaving marks I that wouldn’t leave for days.

It was madness.

Everything around us screamed in pleasure, the force happily chiming along with the two sides agreeing on something, even if it wasn’t an argument. Anakin had changed, and I couldn’t decide if it was for better or for worse.

If only those two could see me now, making love to the man that we had been running from for months. The copious amounts of rage had turned to attraction in a blink of an eye, rejoicing in his presence as my hand pressed against his tunic and I felt his abdomen underneath the fabric. He was such light and yet the darkness itself, drowning me in it as we sunk into a pool of ecstasy.

The cold stone floors were soon heated, as the temple grew humid and we both simultaneously agreed to take our tops off. It was the definition of multitasking, as I took off his armor and tunic, leaving behind a black pair of pants, and his boots. With the force he slipped my top off, gaining access to my collar bone and gracing it with his mouth. There was a possessive feeling in the air, as he took in my body for the first time with his own eyes as I did to him.

"You are so beautiful, it is intoxicating."

I felt myself smiling, sitting up and wrapping my arms around his neck, the both of us kissing deeply. This was it, holding our breath as we enjoyed one another, but the force was warning the both of us.

The temple shook, I almost forgot it was collapsing.

"We need to escape before we become trapped inside," Anakin said. "My ship is outside."

"And you assume I'm coming?"

"I know you are."

I laughed, acknowledging his foresight. We put on our clothes hurriedly yet thoroughly, as someone trained to handle life or death would. In truth, that was what we stood for, as Jedi and Sith both came together as one, in ways that would be frowned upon.

Except we didn't care.

We weren't denying it any longer.

Back in business since the recent Ahsoka episode. Hope you all enjoyed!

#darth vader x reader #darth vader imagine #darth vader x y/n #darth vader x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin x reader #suitless darth vader x reader

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bellaxgiornata · 8 months

Text

Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-two: "The Recurring Nightmare"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You wake from a from a nightmare in the middle of the night.

Or You finally confide a growing fear of yours to Matt.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock. You can find the entire list of installments here.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence

a/n: I can't believe it took so long for us to get an update, but hopefully y'all enjoy this angsty one. Just a heads up, there is a bit of violent imagery in the beginning scene. Who's up for some Second Angst Arc foreshadowing? Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @kezibear

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you squeezed your eyes shut in hopes of blocking out the fluorescent lights that were adding to the pain of your growing headache. Each ding of the elevator as it began to ascend to the top floor of the apartment building only caused the ache to pound harder.

You'd had a shitty day at the office today working on an article for The Bulletin. You'd spent all afternoon struggling with forming an ending that didn't sound ridiculous and make even you want to gag. And it was all because of Jessica Manning. She'd shown up to work the same story you were, interviewing some of the same people you'd worked hard to get in contact with. On top of that, she had successfully managed to get in your head yet again, making you feel insecure and incompetent when it came to your investigative and writing abilities.

And of course, as if that wasn't already enough, she'd managed to insult you while making you feel insecure in your relationship with Matt.

The final ding indicating the elevator had reached the top floor broke through your thoughts and your eyes flew open. Lowering your hand from your nose and back to your side, you stepped off the elevator and began trudging your way down the hallway. As you made your way to the end of it, your hand felt around inside your purse for your keys to the apartment while you tried hard to block out Jessica's voice repeating her insults in your head over and over. Instead, you attempted to picture punching her in the face–as per Katy's suggestion.

Though by the time you'd reached the apartment and fished your keys out of your purse, your stomach was twisting into knots and you felt like crying. It was going to be hard to pretend you were alright when Matt came home from work. And then if you failed at it–which you most likely would with his super senses–he'd find some way to blame himself. Because he always tried to take on all the guilt, blaming himself for your own insecurities when he'd done nothing wrong.

And that only had you feeling worse. You didn't want to worry Matt. You knew he'd had enough going on with how busy he'd been as Daredevil lately. Your silly little problems didn't even measure up to what he needed to focus on.

No, you'd just have to work on getting over it and getting Jessica's stupid voice out of your head on your own.

As you slid your key into the lock on the apartment door, you quickly realized the door was already unlocked. For a second you paused, brows knitting together in brief confusion. But then you realized Matt must’ve finished at the office before you had finished at work today. It didn't happen often, but sometimes they had a pretty uneventful day at the firm and Matt would surprise you at home with dinner.

Your stomach twisted tighter into a knot. You thought you'd at least have a half an hour to try to mentally prepare yourself to face him after your encounter with Jessica. But now you'd have to somehow pull yourself together in a matter of seconds so his senses wouldn't pick up on anything. Though truthfully, he'd probably already noticed you and your off mood the moment you'd entered the building with his heightened senses.

With a heavy sigh, you turned the handle and pushed the door open. You stepped inside, prepared to hear Matt call out and greet you like he usually did whenever you returned home when he was here, but he didn't. Frowning, you turned to shut the door after yourself, wondering where he was–but you stopped when you heard hushed voices.

Eyes narrowing, you tried to focus on the sound coming from down the hall. It sounded like the voices were coming from the living room, but you didn't recognize either of them. Immediately your heart began to beat faster in your chest, your nerves over talking to Matt about your insecurities quickly switching to fear of someone dangerous being inside the apartment.

“...not gonna be causing any problems for us much longer.”

Cautiously you began to make your way down the short entryway hall, walking as quietly as possible on the front part of your feet. You were positive you'd stopped breathing with every step closer that you took towards the voices, your palms beginning to sweat as your hand began to fiddle with your keychain blindly in search of your pepper spray.

When you finally rounded the corner, you almost dropped your keys entirely. You couldn't completely contain the pained noise that slipped out of your lips at the sight of Matt crumpled in half on one of the dining chairs. The crisp white dress shirt he'd dressed into this morning–the very same one you'd buttoned for him while he flirtatiously teased you in return–was now a rumpled mess stained with bright red spots all over it.

Matt's blood.

“Oh well now, lookie what we have here Mr. Big Shot Vigilante Lawyer!” one of the men called out as he spotted you standing in the entryway. The gun in his hand swung towards you as he continued. “This must be your girl, huh? Guess we're getting two for the price of one today!”

Fear had you frozen to the spot, your eyes shifting from the gun to Matt as his head slowly rose. You audibly gasped at the sight of him, a hand flying up to cover your mouth as tears began to burn at your eyes. His face was battered and bloody, half of it swollen from whatever these men had done to him before you'd shown up. There was blood caked over the entire right side of his face–some dried but most of it glistening bright red in the light. Despite the mess they'd made of his face, you could still see the terror written plain on it as he focused on you across the room.

“Get out!” he warned you, his voice garbled as if his mouth was full of blood. “Go!”

“Matt,” you whispered just loud enough for his ears, shaking your head as the tears began to cloud your vision. “I can't. Can't just leave you.”

His face twisted painfully into a look of sheer despair at your words.

“What's that she's got in her hand?” the second man called out, taking a step towards you. A loud laugh burst out of him a second later, recognition dawning on his face. He pointed a finger at you as he exclaimed, “She's got pepper spray! Oh, buddy, what's your girl think she's gonna do with pepper spray ?”

You winced as the harsh sound of his laughter once again echoed around the apartment, your hand gripping the canister of pepper spray tighter in your sweaty grasp. Though desperately you wished you had another way to fight them off–an actual weapon, super strength, laser eyes, fucking anything more than the damn pepper spray Matt always insisted you carry. Because what good would it do you right now? You were helpless. Weak. Normal. There was absolutely nothing you could do to save Matt.

It was that realization which finally had the tears begin to fall.

“That's right, girl,” the first man said, clearly pleased. “Your little superhero ninja boy here can't save you now. He can't even save himself. And there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”

“Get outta here!” Matt's slurred voice urged again.

The first man glanced at the second before gesturing his head towards Matt. You stood there still rooted to the spot, scanning the room for anything at all you could use to help him. There was absolutely no way you were about to just turn and run out of here, leaving Matt to surely die at these men's hands. You couldn't possibly do that.

But there wasn't much you could do, either.

In helpless horror you watched as the second man raised the gun in his hand high into the air, moving in what almost felt like slow motion. With a savage force, he swung the butt of it towards Matt's face just as Matt opened his mouth one last time.

“RUN!”

Eyes flying wide open in a panic, you were met with nothing but darkness around you. Breathing hard, you tried to place where you were as your eyes darted frantically around the blackness. Your heart was wildly slamming into your ribcage, pounding so violently you swore you could hear your blood pounding in your own ears.

It took your brain a moment to realize that you were just laying in bed, your body covered in a slight sheen of cold sweat beneath the silk sheets. The familiar and comforting weight of Matt asleep on the bed beside you registered next, his presence almost instantly calming you. Outside of the bedroom windows you heard the faint hum of the mostly asleep city down below, your eyes gradually adjusting to the bit of light from the obnoxious billboard across the street that still filtered in behind the blackout curtains.

You'd had a nightmare. The same one you'd been having for two weeks now.

Your hands slipped out from beneath the soft sheets as you carefully tried to sit up, desperately attempting to avoid disturbing Matt. You hadn't wanted to bother him any of the times you'd woken from this dream before, embarrassed that it had kept repeatedly bothering you.

Raising a hand, you ran it across your damp forehead, still trying to orient yourself in the bedroom. A small, dark shape was curled at the end of the bed–Mittens, fast asleep. Trying to take slow, deep breaths, you continued to focus on the safe, familiar space around you. The sound of Matt's faint exhales nearby, the slight patter of rain hitting the windows, the distant sound of a car horn.

This was real.

Movement beside you on the bed caught your attention, your head turning over your shoulder. You heard the rustling of sheets and a frown settled onto your face. You'd been hoping not to bother him, having somehow managed it every other night that you'd had this dream. Though you figured your luck would eventually run out and you'd be forced to discuss this all with him at some point. Because it was Matt and whenever anything was bothering you, he didn't stop digging until he knew exactly what was on your mind.

“Sweetheart?” his sleep-laden voice called through the darkness.

Your eyelids lowered, well aware he was going to pick up on everything your body was doing now that he was awake. The panicked and alert tone of his voice when he spoke again only proved you right.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright?” he asked. “What's wrong?”

Matt began to quickly push himself upright on the bed beside you, tossing the sheets off of himself in a rush. You shook your head gently, still trying to calm your body despite your unease at the impending conversation. Even though you hadn't meant to wake him, you figured it was no surprise that he had caught onto your distress even in his sleep with how much of a bodily reaction you'd had to the nightmare this time around. It was more of a surprise that you'd never woken him the other nights, honestly.

“Everything is fine, Matt,” you assured him, still feeling the rapid beating of your heart pounding in your throat. “I'm fine.”

“Your heart is racing,” he pointed out, placing a gentle, comforting hand on your shoulder. “Your blood pressure is elevated and your body feels like it's in a state of panic. What's going on? Did something happen?”

“I just…had a nightmare,” you awkwardly admitted. “That's all.”

“A nightmare?” he asked, confused.

You sighed, rubbing a hand across your forehead again. “Yeah. I've been having the same one for the past couple of weeks,” you confessed. “Ever since…you came home that night. Injured.”

There was a bit of a pause that followed your admission. The air felt suddenly heavier and colder in the dark.

“How come you've never mentioned the nightmares before?” he questioned carefully.

“Because I didn't want to worry you,” you answered.

Matt's arm slowly slid its way across your back as he draped it around you. Gradually he drew you into his bare chest and you turned, burying your face into the inviting warmth of his skin. He smelled like sweat and the leather-like material from his Daredevil suit. Your favorite smell.

“What's on your mind, sweetheart?” he whispered, a sadness barely hidden in his tone. “And why haven't you said anything to me?”

You shrugged lightly as his other arm wrapped around you, tugging you into a tight embrace. Eventually your own arms carefully wrapped around his waist, your cheek resting against his chest as you drew yourself in closer to him.

“Because it's stupid,” you muttered. “And you've got enough on your mind.”

“Hey,” Matt said firmly, his arms squeezing you briefly, “nothing that's bothering you is stupid. So why don't you tell me what this nightmare is about?”

The image of Matt battered and beaten, helpless and terrified in one of the dining room chairs, flashed through your mind. Your eyes snapped shut instantly, but the image of him so horribly injured was already seared into your mind. Gritting your teeth together, you turned your face and buried it firmly into Matt's chest. Your fingers dug into the muscles along his back, fearful of that mental image becoming a reality.

“Sweetheart?” Matt prompted gently.

Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you knew you'd have to tell him. He'd only pry harder the more you tried to avoid answering.

“It's always me coming home from a bad day at work,” you began quietly, face still buried into his chest, “before I realize you're home already. Before me. But there's–there's always these two other men here with you.”

You felt Matt immediately stiffen against you, his body going rigid as his arms firmly held you to himself. But he remained silent, waiting for you to continue.

“They have guns,” you whispered, a tremor in your voice as wetness dampened your closed lashes. “And you're–you're beaten and covered in blood when I show up. Unable to even fight back, not even in your suit. Then you always tell me to run but I–”

Your words broke off as you shook your head firmly against his chest. The thought of just leaving him there to die, even in your dreams, was too painful to even imagine. Your heart squirmed in your chest at the very idea of it. And the pain and fear written on his face each time he realizes you won’t leave, knowing what that means for you, only has your heart feeling like it's being crushed in your chest even now.

“I can't–I can't just leave you like that,” you choke out. “But there's nothing I can actually do to help, either.” A sob escaped you, briefly cutting you off before your next words fly out in a rush. “Because all I have is a fucking useless can of pepper spray to fend them off with. Nothing more.”

Matt's hands immediately began to rub soothing patterns along your back, his mouth lowering beside your ear. “Hey, shh, it's okay,” he whispered. “It's okay, it was just a bad dream, that's all.”

You shook your head, tears still pouring down your cheeks. “I know, but it still has me scared, Matt,” you whispered. “Scared of something happening.”

Something like a defeated sigh mixed with a pained groan fell out of him, his mouth still beside your ear. You could feel your chest constrict at the terribly sad noise alone.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. This is all because of me. Because I fucked up all those months ago,” he told you, guilt coating his words. “Because I fucked up and your connection to me–to Daredevil–was discovered. And you were hurt because of me. And now–now you’re terrified of it happening again and it’s–” he paused, exhaling a shuddering breath. “It’s all my fault.”

Before you could even react or respond, his hands were frantically on your face, drawing it away from his chest and turning it up towards his. Even in the dark you could tell there were tears in his eyes. You could hear the emotion in the faint quiver of his voice as he pressed on.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry I failed you before,” he earnestly apologized. “But I swear to you, I will never let that happen again. No one will ever hurt you. Not again. I won’t let them. So you don’t have to worry about that. Do you understand? I would tear apart this whole city to keep you safe if I had to.”

The tears only spilled faster from your eyes. Not because of the passion and truth you could hear in his words, but because that wasn't it . That wasn't what was bothering you, not fully. Of course you were afraid of ever encountering a situation again where you ended up in danger or injured–or worse–after what had happened to you before, but what was really bothering you was the danger Matt could find himself in. Or rather, the danger he could find himself in and the fact that you were nothing like him. There was nothing special about you that would help you keep him safe in return.

You were just…you.

Slowly you shook your head, your eyes still focused on what you could make out of his face in the dark. Very minutely, you saw him tilt his head to the side as if in confusion.

“I know you would, Matty,” you whispered. “But that’s not it.”

“What–what do you mean?” he asked, sounding almost nervous. “What do you mean that’s not it?”

Licking your lips, you tried hard not to feel so incredibly foolish for what you were about to admit. A fear that had been steadily growing in your mind over the past few months.

“I mean, I’m afraid of something happening to you, Matt,” you told him. “That you won’t come home to me some night. Or that you’ll find yourself in a situation you can’t get out of. Or someone will break into our apartment and hurt you. Because what could I do? What could I possibly do to help you? I don’t have special abilities and I can’t even fight. I know basic self-defense, Matt.” You grimaced, as you admitted, “I’m useless. Weak.”

“What?” Matt asked in shock. “Sweetheart, no. You’re not useless, not at all. But you don’t need to have any abilities and you don’t need to be able to fight off the bad guys. That isn’t something you ever need to be concerned with.” His hands slid up from where they’d been resting on your back, firmly grasping your shoulders as he lowered his face towards yours. “I don’t want you to be concerned with that. Because I can take care of myself. It’s not your responsibility to look after me or protect me, alright? I’ll be fine.”

You shook your head, tears still stinging at your eyes. “You can’t promise that, Matt.”

“Okay, no, you’re right,” he amended. “I can’t exactly promise that, but you know I will always do everything in my power to make it back home to you every night. You know I’ve stopped pushing myself too hard and too far because I love you. Because I don’t want you to worry about me. So you don’t need to worry. I know my limits.”

Matt wrapped his arms around your shoulders again, pulling you back into himself in a crushingly tight embrace. You sniffled, once again burying your face back into his bare skin in search of comfort as your fingers dug into his back, holding him tight. Matt’s lips placed a handful of kisses onto the top of your head before he buried his face into your hair.

“It’s my job to look out for you, not the other way around,” he whispered. “Okay? Leave the worrying of that to me.”

Eyes falling closed, you tried hard to fight the tears threatening to spill forth once again. Instead, you tried to focus on the comforting scent of him, your teeth biting into your lower lip to keep it from trembling.

“Okay,” you breathed out.

“Okay,” he replied, relief in his tone. “Okay, good. Because I’ll keep us both safe. Alright?”

Biting down harder on your bottom lip, all you could manage was a nod in response. But as Matt cradled you in his arms, your own wrapped around him in a desperate vice, you could still see that image of him battered and bloodied in your mind. It lingered there, haunting you.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil #fftd #matt murdock series

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conflictofthemind · 5 months

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Finally reading the book and Mike Wheeler is clearly inspired by Calvin from a Wrinkle in Time (which is a known major inspiration for the show as a whole and Season 5). Walk with me.

The "I hate myself" part makes me go a bit nuts here because. Wow! The alleged Scriptgate line.

Calvin is one of the three child protagonists from a Wrinkle in Time, and Meg's (somewhat) love interest. He is the inverse of Meg, a popular guy at school and star of the basketball team who achieves academically. But his home life is fraught and cold, and his needs are neglected by his parents. I have a bit more analysis on the Wheelers/Byers dynamics and a Wrinkle in Time here. He is 'different' like Meg and Charles; but he hides his true self in order to fit in at school. It's only through meeting the two throughout the novel that he embraces his 'different' status.

He is also gifted in communication, much like how Mike is known for delivering his rallying speeches Both Charles and Meg express disbelief at his assertions that he is odd at first because of how he appears to them, in a similar way to how El does in Episode Three. They face a lot of bullying at school because their differences are overt, and they don't attempt to hide them.

I really believe the Duffers' use of the word "different" is in direct reference to aWiT - it appears thirty times within the novel and Being Different is such an important motif that it got an OST (that I expect to return soon for Mike) in Season Four.

The framing for the two times Will and El mention their differences is almost exactly the same - both characters on the left, with Mike left obscured in the background, his expression hidden and left out of the conversation. It's such great foreshadowing that this will get brought up again; the context and meaning of the shots will change when we finally learn that Mike is different after all. He was just incredibly good at pretending not to be.

Bonus:

Hey uh..... why does Calvin's outfit in the 2003 Disney adaptation looks so familiar? I mean remove the green sweater and...

#mike wheeler #a wrinkle in time parallels #byler #the costuming has me going a bit bananas because what is that #its almost 2am. i have so many thoughts sorry for spamming posts recently. gn

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absolutebl · 10 months

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Favorite first kiss?

Favorite First Kisses!

Doozie of a question. Here we go...

1 Until We Meet Again

I mean COME on. How could this not be the #1 best first kiss? It's so gentle and so good and so hot and just... EVERYTHING a first kiss should be in life. A++ romantic

2 Old Fashion Cupcake

THE LONG SHOT. The desperation. The finger bite. The oozing THIRST. A++ quality desire incarnate

3 Why R U? Korea

Korea, scooping in a top spot? It's just the body language, the striding in, dropping the backpack, the surprised MUTUAL response (no flinching), and all the yearning. A++ want

(Foreshadow: This may... or may not... be my top kiss of 2023.)

4 Bad Buddy

Seriously boys, BOYS! You had to make it so beautiful and so painfully heartbreaking at the same time? Thanks for that. A++ pain

(They may have a light kiss before this one, I can't remember. I keep meaning to do a BB rewatch but I have to gear up for it.)

5 Semantic Error

I mean, well, OBVIOUSLY. Just A++ they perfect, no notes

6 Second Chance

I am pretty sure this one got best kiss of 2021. All you KinnPorche stans are sleeping on this little gem = Tong delivering what amounts to BLs best drunk kiss ever. FIGHT ME. A++ confused needy babies

7 About Youth

Speaking of sweet af first kisses from first timers. This one drips in sweet innocence including a rainbow and some smiles. A++ first sweethearts

8 HIStory 2 Crossing the Line

Okay the actors kiss for a dream sequence before this but this is the characters' first kiss, so that kinda counts, right? It's just such a pretty kiss. A++ stay on target, stay on theme, utterly unique

9 My Dear Gangster Oppa

Ya know this show is just so much fun and so solid and this pair deserves more accolades then their previous series afforded them. A++ finally, well done you

10 I Feel You Linger in the Air

Okay it's just all the dialogue and execution around this kiss is great and then the kiss ALSO doesn't disappoint. Plus permission and snark and so much more. A+++ class & storytelling

Also, whaan (sweet) is a really good word to have seared into one's brain in Thailand. Useful when ordering drinks.

Okay they kinda kissed before but this is the one that counts:

I didn't know how else to put this category but I had to include it so I could include this kiss:

We Best Love

The crying bridge-top kiss. I mean COME ON. One of my favorite kisses of all time. I love it when the weep+smooch.

La Pluie

Honestly? All their kisses are good so I can't remember if this was their first but, it great. Frankly, off all their kisses it's not my absolute favorite, but they deserve a mention because... wow boys. Just... wow.

The Eclipse

Because of their dynamic I am pretty sure there was something before this one, but this one lives in my head.

Be Loved In House I Do

I'm not sure this counts as their first because I can't remember the sequence in BLIHID (he through line is a bit wonky in my brain) but it is a killer kiss.

There should be more Taiwan but...

The thing is, once a Taiwanese BL starts delivering great kisses they just keep it up. So unless the narrative puts particularly strong plot intent on the "firstness" of that first kiss, they just get all sexy domestic muddled in my head.

Honor the Crumbs - Sides & Shorts, Best First Kisses

Some More

"You can kiss me, heong."

2 Moons 2 - MingKit

It's just such a sweetly perfect first kiss of the very first time variety. Before About Youth, we had these two.

Cutie Pie - NueaSin

Kissing the kiss that won them their own series. No other audition needed. In the land of amazing kisses, and up against Zee, this ONE stood way out. Very good boys. Very good indeed.

kiss x kiss x kiss - perfect scandal (AKA the office ep)

Look, this is the kiss we should have gotten in Cherry Magic. It's great, both the hesitant "permission given" first part and everything that comes next. Track this down if you can, it's a lovely little short from Japan.

My Secret Love - TimMai

Very minor side dishes but they were all I cared about in this show. They gave me the kiss I wanted even if they didn't get the screen time the deserved.

You're My Sky - SanAi

We all know they stole this show, not that there was much to steal.

Kiss Me Again - PeteKao

Maybe not the best as a kiss, but it was 2016 and this was SO SIGNIFICANT to the fandom, to the plot of the show, to coming out, to EVERYTHING. This is THE TayNew kiss. I will never forget it. Never.

I don't have a good screen cap but MarkOuwen's kiss in the taxi in Love is Science? was also fantastic.

(source)

Kisses as of Dec 2023. Not responsible for great first kisses that come after this date.

Opinion and preferences based on these ideas of good kiss chemistry.

I want you thoughts, RT and add your favorites or leave a comment. I'm sure I'm forgetting some.

MORE?

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befuddledcinnamonroll · 7 months

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I am totally in the "Non is still alive" clown car, if anyone cares to join.

He's the character at the center of everything, so for his death to happen off-screen feels off. Sure, this is Tee's flashback, so that was his perspective, but it feels weird to me.

They did work to set it up with Non showing signs of internal injury, but to me it feels more red herring than foreshadowing.

This dude right here. That is a sus shot if ever I saw one.

If the uncle talking to him was just for purposes of exposition, why highlight his face and this expression here?

We still have to know what Perth's deal is. Why introduce a character this late? Why did he get so much attention this episode? What's the point of him being there?

Non has been through some shit, and made some bad choices, but he's also not dumb. The uncle and his other employees are not exactly geniuses.

We don't know for sure where they're going with the theme of the show, but for Non to die in this way is pretty anti-climatic. I just think it would be interesting if everyone else is trapped in this violence and chaos, while he's moved on. It says a lot more about the choices we make, and how they revisit us down the line.

I am fully prepared to be wrong, as I am in all theories, but I do admit it will feel unsatisfying to me if this is the final stop for Non.

#dead friend forever #dead friend forever the series #focusing on theory so I stop feeling sad about Tee and his dad #regardless of the end these boys are acting their asses off

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 6 months

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Love me or hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic Rivals AU])

I’m back!! RAAAAAAA! I feel like his chapter is a bit over the place but I enjoy it so 🤷🏻‍♀️. I was planing I. Releasing this today but fuck it, I’m on a roll why not. Not proofread.

Nothing really, mostly just relationship building and some foreshadowing.

Word count: 2k

Series Masterlist Series Playlist

Chapter 11: What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way

—

“How are you not freezing? I feel like I’m turning into a freaking icicle.” You asked, all but sitting on his lap as you curled into him, attempting to stop yourself from shivering too much.

“I’ve got thermals underneath my suit, it helps keep me warm.” He told you, rubbing his hand against your leg arm to help warm you up a bit.

“Ugh, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Well to be fair you don’t go out every night in this weather this late at night.” He said, making you huff, watching your breath leave your lips. He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as he watched your lower lip stuck out in that cute little pout he adored. His arm leaves its place on you as he goes to stand up on the ledge of the skyscraper. “I’ll be right back, make sure not to fall, yeah?” He joked.

“Wait-where are you going?!” You questioned, voice raising slightly as you watch him hope off the edge, not being met with an answer, instead only hearing the distant sound of an all too familiar “thiwp” of his webs being shot out. Bringing your knees up to your chest, head resting on top of them as you look out at the city’s skyline as you wait for him to return, finding the faint sound of Neuva York oddly calming, as if it was white noise. A nice distraction from the sound of your teeth chattering. For once, you weren’t completely petrified by the distance you were from ground level, though you weren’t really in a life or death experience at the moment so that did factor into it.

After a few more moments of silence you were finally able to pick up the faint sounds of his webs reemerging through the wind blowing through your ears, making you sit up a bit straighter as you peaked over the skyscraper, being cautious as to not get too close to the edge as you look for a flash of blue and red. Eventually spotting him once he was a bit closer, immediately noticing he had something curled under his armpit once he was close enough.

“Hope I didn’t take too long.” He spoke first as he landed a few feet away from you, pulling his webbing off the spire of the tower. Your eyes followed his movements before shifting to what he was holding with his other arm.

“What’s that?” You asked, raising a brow nodding to the bundle of what seems to be fluffy fabric.

“A blanket.” He started, unraveling it and shaking it out so it was at full size, before making his way over to where you were sitting, going to rest it over your shoulders. “You seemed like you needed it.” You ignored the wave of sudden warmth that fleshed your face, writing it off as the blanket warming you up rather than the gesture.

“Thank you, Spider-Man.” Mumbling softly, turning to looking forward, feeling suddenly shy as you cross your arms and tug on the edge of the blanket to wrap yourself up further. Miguel always thought it was cute when you were flustered.

“You don’t have to call me that all the time, it feels too formal.” He plopped down next to you, taking the end of the blanket closest to him from your grasp and gently tossing it over his own shoulders, scooting closer to you as he did so. You finally looked over to him, wide innocent eyes that made his heart melt. He wanted to swoop you away from this messed up town and take you somewhere safe where’d you both live out the rest of your days with just moments like this.

“What should I call you then?” You asked, he cleared his throat and tilted his head as he looked at you, feeling yourself grow meek under his gaze despite never having seen his eyes before. “Since we aren’t at a place where you feel comfortable telling me your name.” He shrugged, a hand coming up to run at the nape of his neck before replying.

“Just… spidey is fine.”

You nodded.

“Okay, spidey it is then.”

A silence fell over you both, your eyes finding their way back to the scenery of the hundreds of city lights against the black night sky. Your hands folded together as they rested on your lap, oblivious to the pair of eyes watching you rather than the night skyline.

No view could compare to you in Miguel’s mind, he could see heaven with his own two eyes and it would never compare to the sight of your smile. If time froze at this very moment, he’d be content for the rest of eternity. One day he’ll finally find the courage to tell you the truth about his double life. To tell you his name, his identity, how he’s been deceiving you for months now. He can’t imagine it going over smoothly. Ever since you kissed him at the Coney Island ferris wheel, the scenario had been played in his mind over and over, and every time it has, he couldn’t imagine it going over smoothly. Why would it? To find out your (despite him never officially asking) superhero boyfriend was secretly the same guy you’ve had a vendetta against due to his cold and rude attitude towards you since before you even knew his first name, he could see why it wouldn’t go over well with you.

“Hey spidey.” Your voice pulled Miguel out from his inner turmoil, letting out a light hum as he glanced over at you, a bit surprised when he wasn’t met with your eyes. You continued to look out as you continued. “I know it might be a little too early to be asking this… although I’m not sure if there’s an appropriate time to ask this,” you paused with a little chuckle, taking a moment to collect yourself. Taking a deep breath as you finally turn to face, feeling your body grow a bit anxious as you force the question out from your lips. “Do you ever…erm, plan on letting me know you…ya know… underneath the mask?”

Your question made his whole body tense up instantly, head moving over to look at you so quickly you think his neck would snap off making you panic, immediately attempting to back track.

“I’m sorry- I- had a feeling that you wouldn’t want to hear that-if you want to take me home-“

“No.” He cut your rambling off, taking you by some surprise.

“No?” You echoed back.

“No, actually this is a conversation that we need to have anyways.” He paused, shifting his body to face yours a bit better, taking in a deep breath as his larger hands go to grab your smaller ones. “Look, I’ve never… felt the way I feel about you before. You make me feel like more than some guy in a mask, you look past the suit, the fangs, the talons, the webs, and you don’t even know my name or my face, yet you treat me like I’m a human instead of some… mutant. It’s…nice.” He admits, taking you by surprise at his sudden honesty. “I know that, the second you know my identity, you’d be in ten times more danger than I’m already putting you in by even associating you with this.” He motioned to the costume. “I hope you understand why I’m so hesitant on the idea.” He paused, wanting to garner your reaction before continuing.

“I do.” You mumbled in a low tone, accompanied with a small nod. “This isn’t the part where you tell me we have to stop seeing each other right?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, the subtlest of wavers slipping through despite your best effort to keep your voice steady. You might haven’t been aware of it, but Miguel’s advance hearing picked up on it.

“No, it’s not.” He quickly stopped that thought in its tracks, his gentle grip becoming a tad bit firmer. “I like you a lot, and I’m going to do all I can within my power to keep you safe. I promise I won’t leave you in the dark forever.” Miguel dipped his head down a bit so he could look you better in the eye. “One day I’ll tell you who I am.” Even though I’m dreading it, because you’ll never see me the same again.

It seems his words of reassurance had worked, making the look of uncertainty being replaced with that soft smile that always gave him butterflies appear in his gut.

—

“How do you know for sure? She might just be some fling. A ‘hero’ like him probably has girls throwing themselves at him left and right, how are you sure he won’t replace her in a few weeks.”

“If I wasn’t certain I wouldn’t be coming to you with this sort of proposal, don’t take me for a fool.”

“A fool is a bit too kind of a description for my taste-“

“Do you want to help me squish this stupid spider or not?”

“…Alright. I’m in.”

“Wonderful.”

“Now help break me out of this stupid jail cell.”

“Already a step ahead of you.”

—

“Do you ever get tired of all of this?” The silence that had developed between you two after his last words came to an end once you finally piped up. Hoping he understood what you meant despite the minimal context. It seems that he understood, tilting his head a bit to the side as the lines around his eyes narrowed in thought.

“Honestly, yes sometimes.” He admits, turning to face the skyline once more as he ponders. “It can be exhausting at times… all the slander from the media, people hating me for no reason despite me never really giving them a reason, it can make it all feel like it’s not worth it.” He then paused, letting out a deep sigh as he tilts his head slightly. “But… then I see a little kid wearing my suit… or someone reunited with a loved one after I’ve saved them. It-it makes them all with it ya know?”

Despite not knowing the feeling, you still nodded. Your lips pressed into a thin line as you turned to look at him.

“Well, if it means anything… I’ll appreciate all you do. The city wouldn’t be where it’s at without you.” You always knew how to make his heart swell.

“I should probably take you home.”

—

Despite the fact it was well past the time you would usually go to bed, you couldn’t help but cling onto the last couple of minutes before your favorite spider had to escape through your window, knowing he planned on leaving by the way he leaned against the open window. Cold air nipping your ears as you tied your hair up for bed.

“Hey, um... Did I tell you I’m thinking about going to Germany once I graduate before I start university.” You chipped up randomly, wanting to keep him in your dorm a bit longer when you saw him go to crouch under the window opening, watching him freeze through your mirror as he stopped and raised a brow under his mask at you. Nimble fingers fixing your scrunchie as you glanced back at him. “Then maybe take a train down to France.”

“Really? Germany and France?” He asked, moving back to lean against the window stool. You responded with a nod and a “mhm” before continuing.

“Well, if I have the time, I'd like to go to a few other spots but it really depends on how I feel, ya know?” It was his turn to nod.

“And what am I going to do while you’re gone, hmm?” He teased, making you thank the lord that the darkness in your room helped cover your flushed cheeks. Your daze drops down to your hands as you lightly tap on your wooden countertop. “That’s at least a few weeks of a trip.

“Well… I mean, you can always come with me.” You jokingly suggested with a smile.

“I might just have to take you up on that offer.” Was the last thing he said before you heard the window shut behind you, and a muffled thiwp.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini @cowboylikeevie @thedevax @codenameredkrystalmatrix @reader-1290 @laysmt (to be added click here)

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #love me or hate me fanfic #miguel fanfic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara spiderman #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel x reader #academic rivals au #atsv miguel #miguel ohara

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kvetchinglyneurotic · 1 year

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I kind of love this scene at the beginning of Nope where OJ and Lucky (the horse) are on set because it foreshadows the rest of the movie so well: OJ and Emerald explain to the actors and crew how to interact with Lucky — how a horse, even one trained for TV, responds to the world around them according to their instincts — and the crew ignore him. One of them says to "tell the horse we're ready to do one," like he's a human actor who speaks another language and OJ is the translator.

And it keeps happening all through the film. In the narrative of the Gordy's Home, Gordy is treated as essentially another human member of the family, albeit one who can't tell time or speak English (and I've seen some excellent commentary on how Ricky, an Asian child actor, is commodified and exoticized in the same way). But the chimp who plays Gordy is not a person; he, like Lucky, is an animal being exploited by a production company uninterested in and unwilling to accommodate his needs, and so he reacts on instinct — to the sound of balloons popping, to eye contact, to the people around him screaming.

Maybe Ricky survives because the tablecloth kept them from making eye contact, or maybe the chimp would have killed him, too, if he hadn't been shot at that moment. But Ricky doesn't process what happened as an animal reacting on instinct, at least not that final moment. He still anthropomorphizes this chimp as Gordy, his friend from his TV family with whom he has a special connection. And so years later, he assumes Jean Jacket is a ship piloted by sentient aliens. He assumes they trust him, when really all he's done is teach an ambush predator to expect a regular food source — it's the equivalent of drawing bears to a camp ground because you forgot to put away the cooler.

#Nope #nope 2022 #nope movie #nope film #oj haywood #ricky jupe park #also the director for whatever they're shooting is antlers holst #did not notice that the first time #post very slightly edited from the version i posted at 12:30 in the morning #in the extremely unlikely event anyone noticed and is wondering #kvetch oc

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super-paper · 2 months

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What was the point of Chapter 419 with AFO giving Tomura decay and being involved in his life since he was born, besides generating AFO is behind everything and Kotaro gay affair memes?

I still believe Hori could have pulled this off if he hadn't veered completely off course after 419 because a LOT of Tenko's (and AFO's) arc revolves around the concepts of "identity" and fantasy vs reality (Like, just scratching the surface: AFO attempting to escape from his reality through fantasy, Tenko angrily attempting to pull away the curtain of fantasy and expose the cruel reality of their world. AFO using "reality" as his source of power by claiming its victims for himself, Tenko using "fantasy" as his power by offering those same victims a dream and the promise of an "escape" from their painful reality. "Shigaraki Tomura" as the fictional construct that both AFO and Tenko are attempting to insert themselves into, for both different and similar reasons-- Tenko because he decides to embrace the fact that he killed his family and uses it as evidence that he was "born evil" and "wanted them to die" as a way of explaining his existence. AFO because he wants to escape from the reality that he murdered his brother, while also escaping from the reality of his origin as a helpless infant who no one would look at no matter how much he cried. Blah blah blah etc etc when I say u have to read AFO and Tenko's arcs as a set instead of getting angry at AFO for "inserting himself into Tenko's story," I really do mean it lmao).

Like, MVA aside, Chapter 115 in particular set the tone for Act 2 and HEAVILY foreshadowed what Tenko's arc would end up being about:

(lmao ya'll there is so much evidence in Act 2 that points to the idea that Hori really did want to write a deconstruction of your typical hero story. like, the framing of this panel with Jin angrily turning the TV off when they start talking about "focusing on the positives"????😭I get so sad when I think about the mha we coulda had)

(Side note: Jin was just so so so good as both a character and as a device meant to introduce the reader to MHA's concepts of identity + how a "hero/villain" identities are frequently used as crutches to stop a person from breaking apart under the weight of their trauma

..... which of course makes the fact that Hori rendered his death pointless in the end all the more upsetting :/)

(Pictured: AFO and Tenko fighting over the role of Shigaraki Tomura)

(this scene where Jin talks about the importance of knowing "who u really are" immediately transitions to a scene with AFO, btw. lmao)

((As an aside: 115 is another shining example of how Hori is definitely a competent writer, bc it manages to set up pretty much the entirety of Act 2 + its themes up in just 15-17 pages-- which is all the more reason why the extremely poor quality of MHA's conclusion is so hard to swallow. I definitely don't believe in blaming the editors/publishers alone for how things turned out, but all the same, I do think there was some executive meddling from behind the scenes bc of how rushed and disjointed the epilogue ended up being. It's not the quality we're used to, not by a long shot, and you can tell as much by reading pretty much any chapter before 423.)) /tangent over

ANYWAY. To me, it ways always pretty obvious that AFO was more or less grooming Tenko to be his perfect ~Demon Lord~ OC-- the idea of treating a real person like a fictional character is something I find pretty terrifying + it's something that further emphasizes MHA's metafiction elements, with Tenko being trapped in a role that was written for someone else. I feel that there was adequate build up to AFO being "the author" behind Shigaraki Tomura, specifically-- and it all seemed to be leading up to a point where Tenko would be encouraged to break free & finally take control of his own story ("I needed to hear those words" -> "Those guys (the villains) need a hero, too" -> "You CAN be a hero" "Uh, whoopsie??" 🥲🥲🥲)

Sadly it ends up amounting to nothing because..... Tenko isn't even allowed to fully process the implications of his birth/life and how this has influenced his actions/beliefs/"dream" before exploding, a core scene between him and Nana gets offscreened, and our MC never even bothers to react to the revelation that Tenko's life was scripted. It renders a HUGE part of Tenko's character arc almost completely pointless because we get no actual resolution/pay off for everything that was set up. Like, so much of the finale + epilogue just feels like Hori was going down a check list of plot points/parallels he wanted to include before putting MHA out of its misery, rather than building up to them naturally-- and it's just sad it had to end this way, bc, well. It didn't HAVE to end this way. Hori had all the ingredients necessary to make something truly wonderful, but he didn't use them.

#at the very least AFOtaro affair memes will always be funny #mommy issues recognizes mommy issues or w/e #sophie.txt #thank you for the ask!

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alearicci · 1 year

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"just a little scratch...” – DR3

pairings: daniel ricciardo x girlfriend!reader; daniel ricciardo x girlfriend!you

summary: you, your Daniel Ricciardo and the second practice.

note: I cry like hell. god, why him...

I think you will not like it very much, because I wrote this little one shot on terrible emotions. sorry for the mistakes and OMG, I HAVE 56 READERS TYSM.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The second practice in Zandvoort.

In the first practice, Dan was the 13th, there is something to strive for and what to fix. In any case, this is not a qualification or even a race, but only a training race where they will be able to practice on the track, assess their capabilities, finalize some points and be fully ready to step into the weekend of the Dutch Grand Prix. He kept smiling no matter what.

He is obliged to show himself well in AlphaTauri in order to return to the RBR.

He dreams about it every time before going to bed and wakes up with the same thought.

He dreams of becoming a world champion. And the Red Bull car is considered the strongest among all those who are on the starting grid. Daniel is not a weakling either.

But it's hard to even think about it when you're on the starting grid with Max Verstappen. Daniel had a good and friendly relationship with Max. But how the Australian wanted to wipe his nose and get around him.

You were standing in the paddock and before the practice started, you decided to approach your boyfriend to wish him good practice and kiss him for good luck. But they stopped you and told you that Dan was ready to leave. You blew him a kiss.

Daniel saw it and did the same. But there was one problem. He was already in his helmet and his visor was closed, which is why he kissed you back, but you didn't notice it.

When the sun broke through the clouds a little, illuminating the picturesque race track, Daniel Ricciardo was determined to succeed. The second training session was about to begin - this is a chance for an Australian racer to hone his skills and get an adrenaline rush, which always occurs when his car was working at the limit of its capabilities. However, he didn't know that this day would test his resilience like never before.

The training started and nothing foreshadowed trouble, although Dan had already noticed the strange behavior of his car during the first training session, but ignored it, considering that it was just a minor problem that could be easily fixed. He did not even suspect that a much more serious storm was brewing, which would destroy his hopes and dreams in a matter of seconds.

Grabbing the steering wheel of his car, Daniel felt a wave of electricity run through his veins. The noise of the crowd, the smell of burning rubber, and the realization that he was about to embark on a dance of speed and precision filled him completely. The pit lane was cleared, and he took off on the track, striving to leave his mark and show a good time even in training.

Working harder and harder with each lap, Daniel was focused, his heart pounding almost to the rhythm of the engine. But just at the moment when he was preparing to masterfully maneuver in a sharp turn, disaster struck.

Ahead of him, Oscar Piastri, a McLaren driver, lost control of his car and crashed into the guardrail.

In the blink of an eye, his entire positive attitude turned into a nightmare. The smile quickly faded from his face.

Daniel tried to let go of the steering wheel, his right hand let go of the steering wheel, and then he grabbed it back when Oscar's car was potentially in his way, which led to terrible consequences.

The blow was sudden and strong, causing Daniel's left arm to even throb with pain. The realization hit him like a dagger–the metacarpal bone was broken. An unpleasant feeling gripped him as he headed back to the pits, his dreams of success in racing slipping away with every agonizing second.

Despite the overwhelming pain, a sense of determination and defiance blossomed in Ricciardo's heart. He knew that he would have to deal with the pain both for himself and for his loyal fans who supported him throughout the journey.

When you saw everything that was happening, you immediately felt your legs give way and your vision blurred. You were about to faint if it weren't for the firm grip of one of the engineers who happened to be near you.

You felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest. It could have ended much worse.

Dan was immediately taken to the medical center and you didn't even have time to tell him anything. I could have run and gone with him, but your well-being was seriously shaken. Your heart was pounding, and your face showed concern. The thought of the pain of a loved one tormented you from the inside, but you knew that you had to remain calm for the sake of both of you. You have already seen Daniel overcome countless difficulties, and it was at these moments that you most admired his resilience.

While he was being X-rayed, Ricciardo's mind sank into the depths of his emotions. He couldn't deny the disappointment that threatened to engulf him. The opportunity to demonstrate his talent and compete at the highest level was cruelly taken away from him. And he couldn't realize: whose mistake was it? If he hadn't turned into the wall, would he have crashed into Oscar? What would happen in this case?

He struggled with a mixture of anger, sadness, and a tinge of guilt.

Why him? Why now? Will he be able to regain the level of performance he fought so hard for? How will this affect his further races? Doubt and uncertainty began to creep into his mind, fast and lightning-fast, like a shadow, but Ricciardo did not let him linger. He knew that he needed to channel his energy into the difficult task of recovery.

As soon as he returned to the paddock, with a bandage on his left arm, you couldn't stand it and burst into tears, covering your face with your hands.

Dan came up to you and gently hugged you with his right hand, kissing your forehead.

"I'm fine. Just a little scratch. Just a little scratch..."

His light–hearted response did little to ease your anxiety, or rather, did not ease it with everything, but reminded you of the qualities that you valued in Daniel - his unwavering optimism, his ability to find humor even in the most difficult situations. You knew he was determined to overcome this setback, no matter how serious it was.

And you will always be there to support him.

#f1 imagine #oneshot #f1 #formula one #daniel ricciardo #dr3 #dr3 x reader #ric3 #dan ricciardo

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showtoonzfan · 1 year

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HELLUVA BOSS: S2E4 REVIEW

Ganna be honest, this episode wasn’t AS bad as I thought it would be, like I’m lowkey shocked. It’s certainly not the worst out of what we’ve seen, and it didn’t piss be off to high heaven, especially since the runtime is short and Blitz and Stolas are away from one another here, but….it still wasn’t….good, so let’s get into it.

So everyone already knows this episode was….so fast paced. Andrealphus doesn’t even get a proper introduction, and like I said before, in the span of one fucking minute, we have Stolas and Stella petty banter, Andrealphus, and Striker coming back to kidnap him. For starters, Yayy….glad to see Stolas and Stella acting like petty middle schoolers towards eachother. I was right when I said that the writers can’t figure out what they want their dynamic to be. Like….this is supposed to be the same couple that’s in an abusive serious situation, and it kinda doesn’t make me take them seriously if they’re just swearing at each other and bickering Viv. Also, glad to know the writers are outright saying “cheating is okay”- simply because Stella never liked him, so again….way to take the flaws Stolas had in season 1 and completely erase them and excuse them, just because you want Stolas to be in the right. It’s so distracting how fucking retconned they are, they might as well just have said “Stolas did nothing wrong” in Loo Loo Land if these were the writer’s true colors all along, but since Viv wrote this episode, I’m not surprised.

They hyped Andrealphus up but he gets like….two scenes and doesn’t do much like…lmao. In The Circus, again…they try to make it clear that divorce in the Goetia family is uwu serious, and Stella mentions Andrealphus, implying that he would be upset, or is a threat. When we actually meet him tho, he isn’t even….upset about the divorce? Why did Stella mention him then? What was the point of foreshadowing him and having Stolas say he doesn’t care what he thinks if Andrealphus was just going to be all like “oh you’re getting divorced? Okay, give us money then”- like it’s so fucking underwhelming but we’ll get back to him and Stella later. Also we see that Stolas has a scheduled meeting with Ozzie, implying that he may be trying to get that crystal after all. But…can this show just fucking….stop teasing us with future shit and just do it already? I’m so tired of the show dangling plot threads to come later in our face but they either NEVER come or the execution is underwhelming.

Blitz continues to be the most annoying and unfunny character in the entire show. His jokes and dialogue are a fucking pain to sit through and the scene where he’s trying to announce his appointment and fights with the lady in the waiting room drags and is unneeded. In fact, this whole side plot was unneeded. Viv doesn’t know how to fucking balance this show, she wants episodes to be serious and story driven but have a slice of life filler side plot at the same time and guess what? It doesn’t work or blend well. The constant cut aways are distracting from the main plot and you could have used this premise for a different episode. Loona doesn’t even have any dialogue, you could have at least improved the relationship between her and Blitz or had a moment of her being thankful that he was here and comforting her, appreciating him more….ya know….character development……..something that would have made this side plot actually useful since this is supposed to be a fucking “character driven” show about the relationships between the characters, but no. This side plot existed to pat out the run time and give Blitz and Loona something to do so they’re not just sitting there. As usual Loona does nothing, is useless and only there for the furry porn. The shot of her butt with the needle was 100% on purpose, I can tell.

(Also we’re on season 2 and only now finally get to see an upfront interaction of Imps being treated as the lower class, but it doesn’t do anything. This show tells us instead of showing us, they constantly remind you that imps are at the bottom but Blitz still literally has a good job that pays well and aside from the wrath imps providing food too feed hell, there’s no exploration of how imps having it lower than any other demon species. If anything it seems like Imps and the rest of the Hellborn species are all on the same ranking because Viv can’t storytell.) Also what is with the bleeping? I really don’t get it, it’s not funny and it’s distracting, making scenes awkward.

Predicted it, but Moxxie and Millie were…unneeded in this episode and were only included to fight Striker. These two really are useless when they’re not the focus and you can tell Viv has no idea what to do with them when they’re not. Also…..Viv…..Viv……is Moxxie strong, or not? Make up your fucking mind. In this episode he’s able to get the upper hand against a bigger imp, make him bleed and tie him to the car without an issue, and yet he’s been characterized as weak and not the muscle of the group. Is he strong or not? YAYY MORE CHARACTER INCONSISTENCIES! And glad to know Millie did nothing….as usual. Besides fight.

So Stolas has officially become Angel Dust, and Moxxie is slowly turning into Blitz so that’s great. It’s amazing how there’s barley a difference between the Stolas and Angel tho, he’s just Angel Dust. And Chaz. And Blitz. And every other fucking gay male character Viv writes. The constant cursing, the quick sassy witty banter, the sex jokes of him being tied up, you can tell Viv wrote this with those “harder” jokes between Moxxie and Stolas like…wow, it’s amazing how her gay characters have recycled personalities, aka the Sassy gay twink. Anyway, to me, Stolas before was horny and rabid don’t get me wrong, but something about the way he is in this episode just irks me more. I get that he hates Stella and Striker, but now he just seems like a petty sassy royal bird who acts like a child 24/7…..and it’s unfunny…..and annoying. All these characters are written like fucking children I can’t.

Apparently Striker has a reputation, is wanted around Hell and is well known for being an assassin now??? I thought he was just some Imp who was hired to kill someone? Lmao yet another retcon because if this was the case before, you’d think IMP would have heard of him in Harvest Moon. What’s also retconned is Striker saying he was asked to give Stolas the “full royal treatment”, to torture him I guess but….no? He was hired to shoot Stolas with an angelic gun. Why didn’t he just fucking shoot him. Speaking of that, where is the fucking angelic gun? The IMP gang had it last, and now they don’t have it. Also I already pointed this out but…Stolas can’t recognize Striker despite meeting him in episode 5 upfront. Let’s actually talk about Striker tho. He wasn’t perfect but he certainly was the best part of the episode. I actually applaud Bosco for his voice acting, and the scene with him snapping at the band to leave him alone was the only joke that made me laugh. I didn’t care about Striker that much before but this episode honestly made me did now, ignoring the fact that he’s characterized as egotistical. Problem is tho, like the rest of the antagonists, Stikers kinda just a tool. So he….may or may not be dead, I legit have no idea. If he is dead however….boy oh boy, that would piss me off, because IF he IS dead……then way to go guys, you killed off the only interesting and cool character. 🫠

I expected it, but it’s amazing how everything beforehand regarding him was for nothing if he does turn out dead. The tension he had between him and Moxxie? Would be gone. The fact that he appeared in Blitz’s hallucination, being someone who was similar to Blitz but they used their skills differently yet were the same regarding being mistreated by the upper class? Would be gone. Striker wanting to rebel against the higher class? Gone. Blitz doesn’t even get to interact with him before he dies, for a character that clearly had an impact on him. I was going to applaud this episode for actually being consistent and keeping Striker the same person who despises the upper class for what they do to the lower class, they even imply that he had someone he cares about taken away, but it’s all fucking gone if they KILLED HIM OFF. It all would go nowhere in the end and it pisses me off now because you HAD an interesting character, a villain who contrasted the main character, who had a point and could be humanized, and who rightfully calls out Stolas and his people being the scum of the earth, and now he might be dead because once again, Vivzie is an impatient writer who pushes the story forward too fast before we can even get to know these important characters, and also doesn’t want Stolas to be in a position where he’s in the wrong. Bro was literally eating at a rich place where imps serve you, treats his butler like a stress toy, talks down to Blitz and other imps…he’s not innocent Viv.

(It’s also obvious but this episode suffers from pacing issues, the constant cut aways, and scenes moving by so fast we can’t digest any of it. The FIGHT scene tho? Good god that was a mess, it’s literally faster than Millie’s fight scene from last episode, and the annoying songs playing as we kept cutting to Blitz at the appointment REALLY doesn’t help. I really feel like this studio can’t handle fight scenes….at all, or knows how they work. The video literally gets fucking blurry at one point like what the FUCK LMAO…..either hire someone who knows how to animate action scenes or don’t do action scenes at all.)

I knew Stella was still going to be one note, so I wasn’t surprised, but honestly what did piss me off is how stupid they make her. She was inconsistent before but now she’s just an idiot, because apparently she needed to be TOLD that once Stolas dies, everything goes to Octavia. Like are you kidding me? She’s so dumb that she needed to be told that?? She doesn’t even respond when Andre mentions Via, lmao her whole character really is “me hate Stolas and me want him dead” and nothing else. I’ll give the episode this, even though we barley got to see Andre, he wasn’t insufferable like I thought he would be, in fact, he’s more tolerable than Stella and Stolas combined since he’s the one who’s annoyed at their bickering and calls Stella out for being dumb, but that’s not a writing flex. Andre clearly seems to be the smart mastermind leading Stella now, I have no idea wether if they’ll later make her sympathetic and paint Andre out to be the baddie leading her, or not, it would be bad writing either way tho. Speaking of that….the way Andre treats Stella is off, and I don’t mean in the way that he could be evil. Like other critic blogs have been saying, he calls her attractive, a minx, and a vixen, all words you….wouldn’t really call your sister. It’s really gross and I’m starting to think the information we’ve been given of these two secretly screwing might be true. Like…if we’re doing straight up incest, I’m ganna hurl.

Andre also is all like “if we keep him alive, we’ll have more opportunities, let’s wait till we can get the upper hand”- and I’m…..what? You HAD the upper hand, that’s number one, and number two, this dialogue is VERY vague and makes me feel like Viv had no idea what exactly Andre’s end goal is here, so she used this dialogue as an excuse to figure it out later since she doesn’t plan shit ahead. Because what is Andre’s end goal? It’s confusing. Stella wants him dead, but then they’re talking about money and possessions. Andre seems to want to help Stella have Stolas’s estate, but she just wanted him dead because she hates him. Now you’re telling me she wants his estate too? YAY MORE RETCONS AND CONFUSING PLOT HOLES. Guess we’ll have to wait for Viv to figure out their motivations later lol.

Yada yada another retcon, Blitz cares for Uwu Stolas and is a dumbass for acting like he never knew Stolas could get hurt despite having a fucking angelic weapon on him and learning royals could be in danger in the last season, moving on-

So we’re finally at the end, the most important scene, the text scene. For starters, just like the other critic blogs have been saying……Ozzie’s finally……FINALLY gets brought up again and acknowledged, and it’s over a fucking blink and you’ll miss it half- assed text message. Like….WOW Viv, way to scrape the bottom of the barrel and confront this in the most underwhelming way possible. Would have been actually impactful and better if we saw this go down on fucking screen and have Blitz and Stolas address this in person, but nah let’s just have it happen off screen because storytelling and Viv? They don’t know each other!

But putting that aside, I want to talk about two important problems I had with this scene, because nobody is talking about how these messages make no goddamn sense. So if you actually read the messages between Blitz and Stolas, I hate how Stolas is characterized here, and I don’t mean how he’s suddenly acting like he always cared about Blitz because that’s been a problem since Ozzie’s, I’m talking about how oblivious and emotionally clingy he is. Like…seriously these text messages are a fucking mess. He suddenly acts clueless to how Blitz feels, wondering if he was upset or not, as if Blitz didn’t fucking tell him exactly why afterwards. Fuck you mean by “you just took off?”- I’m sorry Viv, did you forget the scene where Blitz drove Stolas home that night and called him out on his bullshit, saying all he did was treat him like a plaything? Because yeah, Ozzie’s may have finally been fucking mentioned in this show, but now it’s retconned AGAIN because apparently Stolas is a dumbass and can’t remember why Blitz was mad at him in the first place when he had spelled it out loud and clear. Stolas’s text messages make it out to be like they left the restaurant after Ozzie’s taunting and the scene with them at Stolas’s house never happened. Then Stolas is saying shit like “okay well phew glad you’re not upset then Ozzie is a kidder lol I didn’t mind the jabs he makes at me”- I…..WHAT??? What the fuck is going on? Why is Stolas written differently here? Why is the events of Ozzie’s written differently now? Stolas was literally embarrassed by Ozzie calling him out and hid in his menu, much to Blitz’s dismay. They then leave, Stolas can obviously tell Blitz is upset, and when he tries to reach to him gently, Blitz shuts him out, causing Stolas to cry alone. This episode is apparently now acting like their quarrel never happened because the dialogue is written as if they’re referring to Ozzie’s torment, not Blitz calling him out. This legit pisses me off because the show is once again telling us what we saw didn’t happen and rewriting it to fool us. Making Stolas out to be some vulnerable softie who cares about Blitz’s well being too—

And finally, Viv does what she does best by wanting to make you ship Blitz and Stolas together SO badly, but accidentally contradict herself by showing even MORE proof on why these two aren’t good for each other. Putting all the retconning aside, in this case it’s that…surprise surprise, Blitz is constantly miserable and unhappy around Stolas, or whenever they interact. And it’s not even that Blitz can’t communicate, or sucks at emotions, he just doesn’t fucking LIKE Stolas, and I don’t understand how many times the show is going pin that nail on the head until something actually happens, because this scene would have been more impactful if we weren’t already HERE before. Remember The Circus Viv? Stolas going through his Instagram and noticing Blitz was miserable all the time, and reflecting on how their relationship was a figment of his imagination? This scene is the same, it’s just done through text messages now. Why are we doing this again. And I don’t get what Viv’s end goal is here. Is she trying to make Stolas realize that Blitz never gave a shit about him (because we’re on season two and this bird brain can’t take a hint) or is she trying to make Stolas go “I thought he didn’t care but omg he texted me “get well soon” he DOES love me!” Yeah…probably the last option. This ship sucks. If anything…..why can’t Blitz and Stolas just be fucking friends? You wanna say they care about each other? Fine. But romantically, it just doesn’t work. They aren’t good for each other, and function better as friends, but GOD forbid, we can’t have that because they do the dirty in bed SO IT CAN’T BE PLATONIC, it must be romantic! I was literally right, this ship gets worse and worse every passing episode and Viv wants you to ship it so hard despite the fact that she STILL hasn’t given me ONE good reason why they should be a couple. End of story.

So that pretty much it. This episode was nowhere near has bad as the previous three, it’s the most tolerable, but still heavily flawed in the writing department. The dialogue still lacks nuance and sounds like an edgy 12 year old wrote it, the world is still empty, pacing was off, the animation was off too at times, the constant sex jokes during serious scenes are distracting and take away from what’s going on, the side plot didn’t need to happen, there’s also SCENES that didn’t need to happen, there are multiple retcons and empty plot holes/threads, and Viv once again can’t write a complex serious gay couple. She just doesn’t have the writing chops for it, especially since she keeps rewriting aspects and flip flopping between who is the worse lover and who isn’t. I’ll talk more about this episode later, you know how I rant a lot lol. Tomorrow I’ll be finally answering inbox questions too! If you managed to read my endless rant essay, I thank you! See you soon!

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #helluva boss #helluva boss Stolas #helluva boss andrealphus #helluva boss Stolitz #Stolitz critical #review

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dnpanimationstudioclone · 3 months

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Charlie & Seviathan🍎💔🐙 Theory Future

While scrolling on tumblr found this Lil pic in Lucifer room. Here’s a link CHARLIE AND SEV! HE AND HELSA MIGHT BE COMING! And I got SOME VERY ANGSTY IDEAS!

I know a lot of people theorize Sev was a bad boyfriend or that his sister did something but what if…it was CHARLIE who screwed up! Perhaps Sev would be like Verosika and Charlie Blitzo! Let me set the scene:

What if Charlie initially got with Sev…to get closer with his parents(Leviathan to see if he knew how to find Lilith, who seems to be or have been close with Lucifer, had some pics with him)

I can imagine at some point she tried to find or atleast try to contact her mom after the divorce. And when she came to realize she probably wasn't in Hell, maybe she was in the mortal realm. Afterall mortal had all kinds of tales about her like in Jewish folklore.

At first she had tried with her uncle Ozzie and the succubus and Inccubi, her mom's people only to get nothing. Perhaps believing they're forced to keep their tounges tied because of their closer connection to her. I know the show isn’t 100% tied to the biblical lore and I’m not the biggest expert but I remeber there was something about Asmodeus and Lilith being married. Given their ties I imagine they def have a connection in the hellaverse.

as Helluva Boss has foreshadowed in the show and S2 trailer, Envy sinners seem to be "possessor types" can come into the human world in a way, perhaps through other peoples bodies.

Maybe she hoped if she wasn’t in Hell, she’d be up in the mortal realm like those religion stories talked about.

At first she just got closer, friendly to Sev and Helsa in order to get closer to their dad who she could get something out of better.

But one thing leads to another and Sev asks her out. Not wanting to lose her best shot, she dates him, despite not really liking him that way(she convinces herself to).

Overtime Charlie comes to butt heads with Sev and Helsa. I imagine they Def have their issues. Sev has been described as "not evil but moreover ignorant" and from what's been implied with Helsa, Def seems like a Regina goerge type mean girl. I can see Sev be a bit obnoxious, insensitive, kinda frat boy (not as bad as Adam, though I could see his behavior remind her a bit of Sev) but he wasn't a bad guy...like Charlie he genuinely had sweet intentions, just went about them the wrong way and didn’t always consider things properly too...

At one point they have a fight and Charlie finally snaps and...accidentally slips put what she really came for. Sev was HEARTBROKEN. He wasn’t perfect but…legitimately liked Charlie and thought she liked him too, flaws and all💔

And for everything Helsa loves her brother. While she could be mean, she was like that with everyone, it was never a really personal or deep thing. But with Charlie, it Def became PERSONAL! Perhaps…even she thought of Charlie as a genuine friend among the lackeys and yes man posse around her, only to realize she was just using her too.💔

Charlie didn’t mean to hurt them and it’s understandable she’d want to find her mom, but at the same time was so focused on finding her…she didn’t consider the damage she’d cause on that path to Lilith, loosing so much more in the process💔

In the end, Leviathan told Charlie Lilith Def wasn't anywhere he atleast saw her and everything else became bitter history...but hey. The past has a way to crawl back. They say revenge is a dish best served cold.

Imagine if Sev and Helsa do come into the future(perhaps thanks to the Vees like the social media Velvette, Katire Killjoy or someone else out to hurt the hotel), and exposed Charlie's darker moments to the gang and especially to Vaggie, trying to convince them that just like back then, she’s using them in order to get to her. Charlie once said in ep 1 to Vaggie how the sinners were her mom’s people too and at the end of her story, it showed she hoped she’d be making her proud. She clearly believes mom had care for the sinners and would most likely be proud if she found some way to help them….maybe even make her come back.

Scenario:

Seviathan-Think about it! Think about all the times she’s caused trouble because she didn’t consider the consequences or how it’d affect anyone! I know you know Vaggie, you’re practically running the hotel for her! spider boy knows, you can also ask his crazy boss and when she somehow took your(Vaggie) advice of “aggressive kindness” as just walking into his workplace and disrupting the set, and even accidentally walked into setting a FIRE pitching script ideas), snake boy knows.

Charlie-Don’t you dar-

I’ll give her some credit, she tricked him into thinking she cared and it made him redeem and be saved…she just had to have people die to keep her hotel from being wrecked, only to just NEED TO RENOVATE THE DUMP ANYWAY! Pity the rest of the cannibals who laid their lives for that day weren’t as lucky as him!

Maybe the problem isn’t that you just go about your “best intentions” in the wrong way. Perhaps they aren’t what’s best for them. Look at your new Angel friend(Emily) she managed to do what you struggle so hard to be. ACTUALLY GOOD! She didn’t even do anything hard, that only a divine heavenly entity could do…she just knows to treat people like people. Not like characters in your stupid little music show.

Helsa-We def ain’t saints ourselves but atleast we’re straight up about being crooked. Now you all know. What you do is up to you but don’t say we didn’t warn ya. They leave

Vaggie-Charlie?

Charlie-…

End

I also hope this could be a way to address the critique people have about Charlie

think it’d be good to show and explore that even Charlie can be selfish and begin to reflect on herself on if she’s doing it for the right reasons. Husk even once said that Charlie helps others out with their issues, partially so she doesn’t have to deal with her own. She might be at a point where she even questions if she’s a good person or just convinced herself and everyone she is….like how she tried to convince herself she liked Sev.

Who knows this could even lead to huge changes with her relationship with Vaggie & the gang and how they view her…could even lead to…other things in the future. Good and bad.

What do u think? How do u imagine Charlie and Sevs relationship could’ve been like? I’d love to know💖

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