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klaunee · 5 months

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Edit 2/12/2024: I wanted to add a disclaimer to my redesigns! I really appreciate all of the likes and comments that these have garnered, but I just want to add that these aren't intended to be "improvements" or "fixes" of the original designs in any way and were done as a character design exercise for my own entertainment. Looking back on them there's a lot I'd like to change about them and I'd never claim to be anything more than an amateur/hobbyist character designer messing around with these character concepts. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Redesign of most of the main cast of Hazbin Hotel + Lucifer for fun and all that. I enjoy seeing other people's interpretations of these characters and wanted to try my hand at it. Elaboration below the cut.

(warning for some potential spoilers for Season 1 below)

Charlie

As you can see, the gist of my redesigns is exaggerating the qualities of whatever the character is supposed to be. In this case, I thought Charlie lacked qualities that identified her as a demon, and so I gave her permanent horns and a more goat-like appearance. I also gave her angel wings for a unique look and to identify her as Lucifer's daughter. Realistically these could be bat wings instead, since Lucifer was historically depicted as having said wings, but I thought the angel wings combined with demonic features would give her a unique appearance. Her outfit is inspired by bellhops and magicians. I wanted her to be based on a type of performer in the same vein as her parents, with Lucifer's supposed ringmaster theme and Lilith being a diva. This is also why I gave her red nose paint, because to me, her red cheeks and white face make her look clown-like. I gave her round shapes to represent her sweet personality while her overall body type is lanky in a somewhat awkward way, trying to depict her as a bit dorky. I made her hair a bit more prominent for a princess-y look.

Vaggie

Vaggie's moth qualities have been exaggerated here. I'm aware of the theories that she's actually not a moth demon but rather a fallen angel, but I wanted to disregard that because I really like bugs. She has four arms, black eyes, antennae, and her hair is actually a pair of functional wings. Her hair-wings have four "eye spots" on them that are actually functional eyes similar to Sir Pentious. Shape-wise I wanted to show her as a more combative, assertive character, with blocky arms and a shorter and wider physique compared to Charlie. I gave her a modern outfit with a fluffy jacket reminiscent of a moth's neck fluff.

Alastor

I gave Alastor a complete overhaul. My biggest gripe with his design is that he's not intimidating in the slightest and yet we're meant to interpret him as fearsome. Although I enjoy the idea of a character who is not physically intimidating while still being a powerful force, I wanted to depict Alastor as outwardly frightening while retaining the idea that he's underestimatable because... his entire body is shadow! Rather than having that Dr. Facilier expy (/j) shadow companion he has, I decided to make it so Alastor is actually the shadow himself. This grants him a plethora of abilities like a greater range of movement, intangibility, etc. I imagine he was disoriented when he first spawned in hell as nothing but a shadow, but slowly found that this could be exploited and became extremely powerful. His staff is based on a vintage style of microphone with the center modified to look like an inverted pentagram. No Voodoo iconography here. The skull itself does not move, rather the red light in his eye flickers in time with his voice. Outfit-wise, he's wearing a basic vintage suit with a boater hat to identify him as being from the 1920's. Of course, the most significant part of his design is his antlers, which are greatly underwhelming in his canon design (disregarding his "true form" which is still weak in my opinion). In addition to giving him a dramatic silhouette, these antlers can be manipulated by him as a pair of appendages similar to hands.

Angel Dust

I didn't change much about Angel Dust. I think he has a nice design. I just tried to make him a bit more spider-like, with pedipalps, extra eyes, and an abdomen. I tried to make the abdomen small so it's essentially like a cottontail. I modified his legs a bit like I did Vaggie's so they're bent in a way similar to bug legs. His suit has a bit more dimension to it as well. I initially wanted to make the stripes vertical for a true pinstripe suit, but the horizontal ones ultimately won out. The most notable part of his physique is his legs like it is in his canon version, but I tried to make all of his limbs longer as well.

Lucifer

This one was very self-indulgent. I wanted to make Lucifer more father-like in appearance to try and diversify the shapes of male characters in this show, similar to how I gave Alastor a stocky build. With a stouter appearance he is simultaneously less and more imposing depending on how he's depicted. I think it'd be nice if his wings were a permanent element of his design. I gave him a broken halo, which he obscures with his top hat. I modified his outfit while still retaining the ringmaster appearance, giving him a long, flowing cape for a dramatic look. He has a cane in the shape of a golden snake which can actually move freely if he wills it. I based his hair a bit on famous carnie P.T. Barnum, and I think he'd have a similar characterization as Barnum too, being an outwardly magnanimous and lovable leader while in reality wanting nothing more than to encourage hedonism, chaos and sin in his subjects. His pointy beard and moustache come from depictions of Mephistopheles. Like Charlie, I gave him red nose paint because like I said, they've got clown vibes. Charlie inherits her goat features from Lilith, who I did not draw (yet).

Thank you for reading!

I'm not 100% on these redesigns but I enjoyed the exercise. I may redo them eventually.

I'd also like to do more of these, especially Adam.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #hellaverse #alastor #charlie morningstar #charlie magne #vaggie #angel dust #hazbin hotel au

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lizthewriter · 8 months

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LIZ I LOVED UR EXILE FIC SO MUCH!! CAN U DO A SIMILAR ONE THATS A PT 2 IN THEIR RELATION SHIP CALLED KARMA AND ITS HOW SHE GOT HAPPIER?

A/N: your wish is my command 😌😌 but thank you so much hehe

karma / mattheo riddle

PAIRING Mattheo Riddle x Reader

SUMMARY You and Mattheo have been dating for two months now and your life has taken a turn for the better. You thank him.

TAGS Mattheo Riddle x reader, fluff, cuddling, kisses, mattheo is a good bf, gender neutral reader

"Ask me what I learned from all those years, / ask me what I earned from all those tears, / ask me why so many fade but I'm still here," - Karma, Taylor Swift

WORD COUNT 1.2K

WRITTEN 26.08.2023

pt. 1 here, exile

Dating Mattheo Riddle was not what you had expected - over the course of two months, your life had improved dramatically. You were like a puzzle Mattheo had solved - before you met him, your pieces were all broken apart, but he had somehow managed to put them back together. He made you happier, and when you were happier, you tended to do better in your courses. You had also made friends - he had introduced you to his as soon as he could. Theodore was still quite silent around you, but you could tell he didn't nesscessarily dislike you. Sometimes, he sat down across from you in the library and you studied together in silence. It was far better than studying alone, that's for sure. And Blaise - Blaise and you had connected quickly. Before you knew it, you, Mattheo, and Blaise were hanging out together almost everyday. In the Slytherin common room, on the grounds, in random classrooms even.

However, you had grown quite unpopular with a certain . . . group of people at school. Namely girls. A lot of girls. The day after you and Mattheo kissed, you had walked into the Great Hall together. Mattheo's arm wrapped around your waist, his head leaned into your ear mumbling some joke that made you laugh boisterously. No doubt eyes were drawn to you and jaws dropped. Only days ago, no one even knew you that well. Let alone Riddle. Yet here you were, entangled in his arms, being led to the Slytherin table for breakfast. So you had made quite a few enemies as well as friends, but if you were being entirely honest . . . you didn't even care that much.

Being with Mattheo was like a blessing. He was constantly showering you with affection. Whether it be subtle touches, murmured words of affection, or more . . . unspeakable things. Despite the fact that he was by your side every moment of the day (which came in handy when he could death stare any potential annoyances away), you actually quite enjoyed how often you were in each other's proximity. You were in most of the same classes already as well as the same year. And currently, you were seated next to each other in History of Magic. Professor Binns, of course, was droning on about the elf revolution and you, of course, were nudging Mattheo awake with a silent chuckle.

He gave you a playful shove, letting his head fall back onto your shared desk, his arms covering his face. "Let me sleep," Mattheo mumbled, his voice muffled.

"Theo, don't you want to pay attention?"

"I have an E in this class anyways."

You rolled your eyes with a grin, turning back to listen to Binns, no matter how much you'd like to lay on your desk to fall asleep too. When class was over, Blaise made his way over to you two, Theodore hovering behind him with his nose down a book. Blaise whacked Mattheo over the head with a roll of parchment, enough that it would startle him awake, but not exactly enough to hurt him.

Mattheo groaned, shoving Blaise away too.

"Come on, you twat, class is over."

Mattheo let out a grumble, pushing himself out of his chair and grabbing his bag. "We don't have any more classes, right?"

"Nope. Theo and I are headed down to the pitch, you two want to come?"

Mattheo shook his head no, which wasn't really surprising. He wasn't really into Quidditch and only ever came to matches for the sake of his friends. "I'm probably going to pass out for a few hours, you guys can head on."

Blaise glanced towards you questioningly, but you shook your head. A grin grew wide on his face as Blaise clapped Mattheo's shoulder. "Pass out, huh?" he asked with a snigger.

"Ah, shove off, Zabini!"

When you entered Mattheo's dorm, you dropped your bag by the edge of his bed and flopped onto the mattress with a sigh. You were exhausted. So much work, and with NEWTs growing closer and closer, you grew more tired with the heavy workload.

Mattheo joined you, sitting up straight while he held his arm out to you. You smiled, snuggling into him and wrapping an arm around his torso. He gave you a peck on the top of your head, which was resting against his chest, petting your hair gently. It was quiet moments like this that you loved the best, moments where you were reminded that you were his and he was yours. It reminded you that what you had was real.

"Tired, huh?" He looked down in amusement at you, your eyes already shut, breathing already turned to a slow, steady rhythm. You hummed in response, entangling your legs with his, a grin spread across your face. He couldn't help but smile at your contentment. "You look so pretty like this." It was a whisper, but nowhere near suggestive - more adoring than anything. He rubbed your arm gently, pulling you in closer so that you were almost entirely sprawled atop him.

Sometimes, it was hard to believe you were with Mattheo. He was just so . . . perfect. He had his flaws, but that didn't mean you liked him any less. Sure, he may have gotten in one too many fights on your behalf, and yes, he may have tried to push you away because of his traumatic childhood, but you loved him all the same. I mean, come on, this is Mattheo you're talking about. The guy that sent you far too many deliveries of roses at breakfast, so many in fact that the entire table in front of you was drowning in luscious red petals. The guy that read all your favorite books and listened to all your favorite bands even if he didn't care much for them. The guy that declared his love for you in the middle of Transfiguration when you had been sour after a particularly nasty row. It didn't matter if he was the Dark Lord's son or if he got into far too many fights or if he got terrible marks (even though he was quite sharp).

But he reminded you that this was real and you were together in quiet moments like this. Sometimes it was when you were cuddled on a couch in the common room, huddled by the fire while your friends told stories that more often that not involved very noble efforts for very stupid causes. Or perhaps in the library, his head rested in your lap as you studied with an intense concentration, playing with some part of your clothes or maybe your hair. Oh, and those times you'd be walking hand-in-hand through Hogsmeade, waltzing into forgotten shops on street corners, making out in the oddest of places, tripping over bumps in the road as you walked to visit the Shrieking Shack together. In a way, you were grateful to him for being in your life. You wouldn't be nearly as happy as you were today without him.

"Theo?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"For what, exactly, darling?"

"For being here for me. For being here, in general."

Matthoe glanced down at you in suprise. "You have nothing to thank me for." He pressed a firm kiss to your head, then drawing you in closer so he could rest your head against yours. "I love you."

You hummed, snuggling your face into his chest. "I love you too."

Thank you all for reading! Be sure to like, reblog, and comment! I really appreciate it ^^. If you have any requests, by inbox is open but make sure to check the list of characters I write for here. If you want to be tagged in any upcoming fics/headcanons of mine, let me know. If you want to see more from me, go ahead and check out my masterlist here!

#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x you #slytherin boys #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #harry potter #fanfic

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m-y-fandoms · 4 months

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Commission: DRV3 Boys x Female Reader - Seven Minutes in Heaven

Details: Takes place during the killing game, timeline switched around, creative license taken to imply everyone is alive and has known each other for at least a few weeks and has had time to get to know each other a bit. The threat of the killing game is still there though. Monokuma has announced it, just nobody has been killed yet. It’s also implied that the reader has a crush on the boy in each section however whether or not the boy is oblivious to that fact or feels the same varies.

Word Count: 5K Words

Warnings: SFW - fluff, maybe mild angst, possible V3 spoilers

Everyone needed something to divert their attention and obsessive thoughts away from the killing game. Though nothing had happened yet, the group of Ultimates got more and more antsy by the day. Every dark corner or empty stairwell seemed like a threat, and mistrust grew and loomed over them all like a black mold growing on the walls.

No one seemed to feel safe, though it had been weeks since the menacing-looking monochrome bear informed them that they were to kill each other for sport so they could return home to their regular school life and families. There was no concrete proof that this wasn't an extensive, well-planned practical joke or social experiment, some prank that would result in cameramen and producers springing out of the woodwork once all was said and done, and that was the only thing holding them together mentally. This could all be fake.

Nevertheless, something needed to change. They all had their little subgroups, individual trusted cliques or closest allies, but there was no denying the entire group needed to come together, to get to know each other a bit better and let off some steam. Unity meant potential lasting peace and no fatalities.

Someone suggested they play a frivolous little game that could keep everyone's attention for a while. Even though most of the group hadn't played it since middle school and some never at all, the rules were straightforward and simple enough. In addition to passing the time, it might even spark a little drama or romance. Any emotion was preferable to the fear of death and the sense of impending disaster.

Seven Minutes in Heaven: a game where two people go into a small room or cramped closet alone and have seven minutes to do anything they want to each other. Usually, the goal was the get handsy, to kiss or hug, to confess to someone, to make each other nervous, or to engage in casual romantic activities. It was supposed to be steamy and awkward, to put pressure on the two people. They would all randomly pick straws, and the two people who got the shortest straws would have to go in together while everyone else sat outside and timed their seven minutes. Knowing your peers were mere feet away outside the door only added to the tension.

The location was set: a small, cramped closet on the first floor next to the spare classroom and just before the steps down to the basement. It was dimly lit by an ancient overhead lightbulb hanging on by a thread and had just enough room for two people once the abandoned supplies, tools, and cobwebs were scooted to the edges. The Hotel Kumasutra was suggested first, but was shot down for being perhaps a little too intense, dramatic, and high-pressure for such a simple game. Nobody felt comfortable enough to enter the daunting building as of yet, despite its proximity to the popular casino.

And so, the game began.

Rantarou Amami

Waiting anxiously to see who you'll be paired up with, you pace the meager few steps you can manage in the tiny closet - back and forth, back and forth - working up a sweat that's more nerves than physical exertion. When the door swings casually open and you immediately see a fluffy full head of green hair, a shiver runs down your spine. It's a shiver that is half excitement and half humiliation. Of all fifteen other classmates, of course your crush, Rantarou Amami, was the one destined to draw the other straw and be trapped in here with you for seven excruciating minutes. Anyone else, literally anyone else, and you could've stalled, talked your way through those seven minutes, felt indifferent, and at most a little awkward. Rantarou made your heart flutter, froze you in place nearly every time he interacted with you. You stuttered, felt like you never said the right thing. He was just so handsome, with a smooth voice and a mysterious yet kind personality. You were quite sure, even with the memory loss you'd all suffered, that you hadn't had a crush this intense in quite a while. Certainly not one that turned you into a foolish mess.

Rantarou entered with his head bowed, shoulders shrugged forward. You'd never seen him - a dude who was usually quite confident and smooth - looking so uncomfortable. When he spun to look at you, the door now shutting you two in alone, he was almost wincing, facial expression squeezed into wrinkles and furrowed brows. It was as if his face was trying to say: "I'm sorry about this..."

"Heeeeey, (Y/N)," Rantarou spoke in a sing-songy voice that, again, was out of character for him, yet you felt your body stiffen up all the same. You hugged your body instinctively, feeling vulnerable as your heart beat wildly in your chest. You took a step back to create more space between you and the object of your infatuation and nearly tripped over a cardboard box on the ground behind you. "Yeah, this is about what I expected," he chuckled, his eyes wrinkling closed into kind little lines. He held his hands out in a sign of passive surrender. "So sorry about this, (Y/N). I swear, there was nothing I could do! It was all random." He rubbed the back of his neck, a small dust of pink over his cheeks. You felt your stomach drop. Did he think you disliked him? Was he perceiving your involuntary reaction as disgust rather than flustered? You suddenly felt super guilty. You were just now realizing he probably had taken note of this same adverse reaction every single time you were in the room with him. The logical thought process would probably be that your body language showed disdain.

"Oh, oh no, I hope you don't think I'm upset about being paired with you! I didn't realize my-" you tried to relax your shoulders, not wanting to let your own feelings affect him negatively.

"No, I don't think that at all, actually..." he cut you off, not wanting to let you get too far into this incorrect notion. He paused, thinking over how to word things delicately. "It's quite the opposite. I'm not as dense as you might think, actually. I pick up on things pretty well," he chuckled again, trying to ease the tense atmosphere, "and I... I kinda know you like me. You always get like this... when I talk to you. I'm... a bit more perceptive and empathetic than people think. I just wanted you to know, it's okay! You don't have to feel that way! I was worried about your reaction when I stepped in here. I knew you'd freak out." So subtly - almost seeming practiced and experienced - he gently clasped his rough hands into yours. They felt calloused, perhaps from the travels and adventures he'd vaguely mentioned when you sat there like a statue listening to him talk around the academy. The many bracelets settling on his wrists shook you back to reality, and your face heated up at the skin-to-skin contact. "I mean, I'm not trying to boast because I really don't think I'm such a catch, but I see the way you look at me, I've heard Miu talking about you having a crush as well..."

"I... I don't know what to say," you release a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, "This is a bit embarrassing..." you grumble, looking at the ground.

"You don't need to feel embarrassed. Honestly, I think you're a really cool person as well. I would love to get to know you more, but you always seem to run away after we talk for a little. The others are always around. It would be cool to spend some time hanging out alone, now that... I'm kinda confessing that I'm interested in you too?" He gives you a crooked smile. "Woah... your hands are like shaking."

Was this a dream? Was Monokuma replacing your classmates with clones to prank and humiliate you? There's no way Rantarou, the most attractive and fascinating guy here, was into you...

"I... I would really like that. Yeah, I'm sorry about my... less than pleasant reaction. I really didn't mean to come off as weird or make you uncomfortable."

"Hey, no worries. Well, you know, I played this game a ton in middle school. It was always silly, and stupid, but I have no issue playing it again, especially with you. What do you say? After all, I've played games way worse than this."

Ryoma Hoshi

The athlete strolled leisurely into the closet, hands in his pockets and the stick of a lollipop hanging carelessly out of his mouth. He always had something hanging out his lip, be it a candy cigarette, a toothpick, or something in between. You wondered if it soothed him. You'd gathered from conversations with him that his life had been pretty traumatic, at least in your opinion. His eyes were half-lidded as always, lazy and donning dark bags underneath. He sighed, stepping into the dim lighting provided by the single, dingy bulb above.

"Yeah, so I didn't really have anything better to do. Everyone else was sayin' they'd play and I was in the room at the time so I got roped in. Can't be much worse than anything else I've been through. Figured it might be good for morale, for these people to loosen up and play a game or two together. Lotta mistrust brewing." He looked around, seemingly disinterested and boasting an incredibly calm demeanor. You were wondering how someone could feel not even a little bit nervous playing a game with a premise like this.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to!" You smiled softly, offering him an out. You liked Ryoma a lot. His chill attitude, mysterious and interesting past, deep voice, and cute face intrigued you enough to even form a little crush, but you didn't want him here out of coercion or peer pressure.

“It’s whatever. I’m down to play. It’s fine. However, I’m sure I wasn’t who you expected or were hoping for.” He shrugs, less self-deprecating and more as if stating a plain fact. It didn’t seem to bother him either way if you did in fact wish it was someone else who was chosen to be with you for this dumb little game.

“Nah, I’m not disappointed,” you smirk a bit deviously, trying to hide the excitement you truly felt. You see his eyebrows raise a tad, which is more expression than you usually get from him. “Someone like you is kind of an interesting partner for this game. I’m betting you have more life experience overall than me. In fact, I know you do, after listening to some of your stories. You probably have more experience in everything: street smarts, common sense, even romance.”

“Uh, let me stop you right there.” He lets out a tiny, brief, dry chuckle, something skeptical in his tone. “Actually, not true at all, that last part. Not much romance in my life. Funny, you and I actually talk more often than I do with the others… I thought you would’ve picked up on that.”

“Oh?” You challenge him playfully, trying to flirt him into a more open mood.

"Yeah, I'd think that would be obvious. Who wants to take a chance on a no-good criminal with a clouded, ominous past? I don't really tell people all the details, and I'm not going to, but then I can't be surprised if people don't want to get to know me or trust me. Also, I'm aware I'm not the ideal, looks-wise. Never bothered me, but-" Once again, you can tell he's not looking for sympathy, but just honestly sharing his thoughts about himself. Before he can talk himself down further, however, you cut him off.

Stopping his words in their tracks, you leaned down to his height, bending at the waist sensually. Without skipping a beat, you casually took the lollipop from his mouth, coaxing it out without much resistance on his part. Smiling impishly, you popped it into your own mouth.

You'd never seen Ryoma Hoshi blush before this moment. It seemed like something he was incapable of.

Korekiyo Shinguuji

The lean, dangerously mysterious anthropologist stood across from you, tall enough and so close that he blotted out the dim light from the single bulb above in the cramped closet. He appeared like a silhouette, like some spooky demon or spirit from the cultural legends he often told you about. He seemed to be giggling behind his mask, amused at your flustered reaction to his closeness before he began to speak in that mystifying voice of his that was like smoke hissing past your ear and tickling the outer shell:

"You know, (Y/N), I almost said no to playing... This seems like such a childish little game, maybe even a waste of my precious time when I could be studying up on literally any other topic. But... then I thought: I've done far more promiscuous things than this before, games and rituals alike, so what's the harm in some little kid’s game? Why not? After all, there's something to be learned from every experience, and this game seemed integral to the middle school lives of our classmates, therefore making it culturally significant... if I... broaden my definitions a little." He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, making you sweat as he moved even closer during his little monologue.

"I see you're being v-very open-minded," you chuckled nervously, trying to hide the loud pumping of your heart. "Yes, I would've thought you were far too mature for this game!" You were now flat against the wall, nearly caged in by his lithe form hovering over you.

"I thought it might even be exciting," his tone adopted a more predatory note, "to see who I get and explore the essence of who they are, find their inner beauty for myself, one-on-one and in private. When nobody else can hear or see, they might let down some walls, and expose a side of themselves in this killing game that nobody has seen yet. It could be a fascinating study of human behavior. I didn't really care who I got matched with, as everyone here - with such varied personalities and talents - could be an extremely interesting subject!"

"Subject?" Now he was starting to worry you. You had to admit, though, the way he was passionately speaking, the way he pinned you into the corner of this enclosed space... it was rather exciting.

"You seem nervous..." he tilts his head innocently. "There's nothing to be afraid of, little (Y/N). This game, as I take it from the rules, is to start a romantic or flirty interaction, to cause feelings to bubble up in each other - excitement, arousal. These emotions are so wonderfully and beautifully human. Is that what you want, to try this in earnest?" You see one of his hands reach over to its opposite and begin to unravel the layers of gauze bandaging. You nod enthusiastically, almost entranced by his words. He takes this consent as his opportunity to take control, and something in his golden eyes turns animalistic.

"Good." He purrs.

Gonta Gokuhara

Almost comically shoved into this tiny closet and leaving little to no room for you was your chosen-at-random partner: Gonta Gokuhara, the gentle giant. He was desperately trying not to hit his head on the ceiling while also trying to remember to be considerate of you and your personal space. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, after all.

"Gonta wanted to play, because all of his friends were playing too! This game... sounds fun, but Gonta never played it before. Gonta a bit confused. Gonta love everyone here as a good friend, swear to protect them all, so why we not all play game together, in bigger, more comfortable place?" He asked genuine, thoughtful questions, and it appeared to you that he in fact did not know what he was getting himself into. You'd make sure he understood clearly before playing, as someone had obviously shoved him in here without a clear description of the rules or goals.

"Well, Gonta, this is a game where you're supposed to come in with one other person only and do flirty, cute, romantic stuff. Why did you agree to play without knowing what's going on?" You shook your head, snickering under your breath. You'd always found Gonta's endless positivity and determination to make others feel happy and protected adorable. He probably just wanted to be included, to make sure everyone had fun. And you had no doubt he was intelligent enough to understand the simple rules of this game, it was just very likely someone more mischievous - like Kokichi or Miu - purposely kept him out of the loop.

"Oh! O-okay!" He begins to blush, his mouth pressing into an uncomfortable, pursed line. "Gonta never done anything like that!" He was beginning to perspire on his brow.

"Well, do you want to try? You don't have to, keep that in mind! It's your choice, Gonta." You smiled in encouragement, making sure your body language wasn't applying any pressure to him even subconsciously.

"Ummm... Gonta would like to try if everyone else playing. Also!... Gonta trust (Y/N)." His words are shaking, and you decide you'll do the bare minimum, just a warm-up to see if he truly means his words. Him putting his trust in you was melting your heart.

Gently, as if you were approaching a bird that might fly away at any moment, you took a step closer to him and began to unbutton the tight brown suit jacket from his abs and waist.

Kokichi Ouma

Immediately upon being trapped in the closet with this gremlin, he started teasing you, trying to make you crack, or cry, whichever came first. All reactions were good reactions to him.

"Of all people, you got stuck in here with me. Sucks for you, don't it, (Y/N), you prude!" He swirls a finger in the air and presses it firmly into your chest, taunting you.

He spends the next few agonizingly drawn-out moments poking fun at you, at your flustered reactions, at the way your body responds to both his words and small touches.

"Oh, come on, (Y/N), this is baby shit! I barely even touched you! With my title as Supreme Leader, I've had to seduce hundreds of marks into giving up information or giving me what I want, and you can't even handle this? You wouldn't last two minutes in an interrogation by my organization, let alone seven. Pathetic!" He starts laughing, amused by your humiliation so much that his eyes begin to water.

You're sure his claims of seducing and interrogating victims before are lies, but regardless, your heart was beating out of your chest. Why did he have this effect on you? He had you right where he wanted you, and you were falling into his trap. Every time he ran his chilled fingers up your exposed arm or touched your chest and collarbones, you felt a shiver of desire and fright, a shockwave of panic and delight in tandem.

In truth, the others were worried about you. Most of them, the kinder portion of the group, felt bad about sending you in there alone with Kokichi. They didn't think such a kind, unassuming person deserved this kind of treatment.

With an underlying gentleness that almost betrayed his performative vitriol for you, he pushed your shoulders back, like a bully on a playground. He took note of your clumsiness, of the lack of coordination you must have if such a petite young man like him could nearly topple you over. He seemed to be taking into account his lack of time. Seven minutes wasn't much to work with. He'd had his fun, and was ready for the climax.

You stumble back against the wall, and instantly he pounced on you, cornering you in. Before you had time to adjust, to correct yourself to an upright position, he grabbed both sides of your face, pulling you in for a sloppy, deep kiss that lacked any care or gentleness. Your eyelids flew open as the taste of sweet candies and grape sodas flooded your mouth.

Kaito Momota

Kaito stood with his arms crossed defiantly in the middle of the closet. His taller frame and masculine figure took up most of the space as he stood firm, stubbornly biting the inside of his cheek. His brow was furrowed angrily, but not with an anger directed at you. After all, you must've been a victim in this just as much as he.

"Now, I didn't really wanna do this... it's beneath someone who sees fit to call themselves the Luminary of the Stars. I didn't earn this title through kiddy games after all, but..." he looked frustrated, maybe even with himself, "but they tried to say I'm too scared to play! As if!" He paced once in a circle in the tight confines, then huffed. "I'm realizing just now that I probably fell for it and this was their plan all along." He sighed deeply. "I gotta stop letting these assholes get to me." He conceded, his pride hurt. You had to admit, his reaction to the game was disappointing you, as you couldn't think of a better person to get stuck in here with. You smiled sheepishly, letting the uncomfortable silence mellow out in the air. You only had seven minutes, after all. "Man, it's cold and awkward in here..." Ah, yes. Kaito wasn't the type to let things just be silent. You decided it was your turn to speak now.

"So... you don't want to play with me, at all?" You speak shyly, a bit embarrassed at your own words.

"What, you do?" He counters, a single brow raised as you piqued his curiosity,

"Well... I mean, haha," you thought through how to word this so as to not weird him out or scare him off, or really just embarrass yourself in the process, "I felt really lucky to get stuck in here with you, out of everyone. If I may speak openly and honestly, I've been crushing on you for a while..." You felt your blood running hot.

"You have?" He's flushed pink, pulling his jacket in closer for security.

"Yeah, of course! You're handsome, charismatic, and you make me laugh when we are just hanging out casually. I think your determined spirit is admirable... but if you don't feel the same-"

"No!" He cut you off a little too eagerly before he could remind himself he was supposed to be playing it cool. He cleared his throat, calming down his tone a bit, "No, I mean I think you're great, too. And you're beautiful! Out of all these idiots, I'm glad it's you, too." Your heart swells. "Not that... not that I've been dwelling on this thought for too long." Though it feels like your heart is pumping fast enough to warm the entire room, Kaito was right, it was quite drafty in there. Seeing you shiver at the temperature, Kaito removes his large galaxy jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. It smells of him, of hair products and fresh deodorant. Simple and subtle. "We should hang out some more on our own, when we want to, not when these assholes force us into some stupid game with expectations and shit." He shows you a beaming, celebrity-like grin. "I would be an idiot to not want to get to know you more, especially with your talent!"

Shuichi Saihara

Poor Shuichi. The reserved, introverted detective had found himself shoved into this closet against his will. He'd merely come to observe the game from the farthest corner of the room - bored, and too wary of the threat of the killing game to be alone. Being alone was just the worst option right now: either his own thoughts would consume him or a potential killer might.

So now here he was, paying the consequences of wanting to hang out with a group of his peers. They'd put his name into the lottery without his permission, thinking it a cute and funny little prank, and when he was chosen, it only took two or three of them to shove him inside while he attempted to jump and claw his way out. Now he was a sweating, blushing mess, pawing at the door like a cat trapped in a bedroom. The same students that pushed him in snickered and howled in laughter on the other side, leaning their weight into the door so he couldn't escape. After a while, someone as smart as him knows when an effort becomes futile. He sighs, turning to face you with a warm flush of red over his entire body that contrasts wildly with the blues and blacks of his hair and uniform tones.

"Ugh, I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," he groans, his voice cracking under his nerves. "I told them I didn't wanna play, but..." were you really that bad to be stuck in here with? His reaction seemed... over the top. Your shoulders sank downward, humbled by his response to your existence in the same space as him. He sees your crestfallen expression and panics, guilt overcoming him. "Please, no it's not you! I mean no offense. I didn't wanna come in here with anyone." He takes note of how your mood doesn't pick up in the slightest, and lets his head fall into his hands. "This is so embarrassing. I actually do really like you, this is just so awkward."

"You do?" Your ears perk up at that. Maybe you were mistaken in your earlier judgment.

"Yeah! You've always been kind to me, and you're quite interesting and fun to hang out with in this hellhole. Talking to you... really gets my mind off things..." he admits, clearly self-conscious. "I... well sometimes, I hear you talking about how you think you'll be the first victim of the killing game, talking down about yourself. I don’t think you should count yourself out... we all have our own strengths, though I know I ought to take my own advice sometime." He chuckles in such a gentle, exhausted way that it might as well have been merely an exhale.

Neither of you even noticed that during his little speech of praise toward you, he'd reached out and taken your hands gently in his own. It was a reflexive, instinctive, and intimate move. Rather than pull away, now feeling a bit more stable, and comfortable in sharing his thoughts as you hadn't reacted adversely, he pushes a bit further. He rubs his thumb across the back of your hand, and for seven minutes, that's enough for him.

Kiibo / K1-B0

The almost-human robot is standing across from you, arms flat by his side. He looks far more relaxed than you were, passive and maybe in some kind of rest mode, if he had one.

"Now what?" He asks plainly.

"Nobody told you what to do?" You replied, a bit stunned and wondering why he was even here.

"Vaguely. It sounded like a complete waste of time, though. If it's what humans do, it's certainly not in my programming. Therefore, I might as well learn from this experience as not to be embarrassed later on should the topic come up again." He sounded so practical, so... bored with the current situation.

"Well... I don't know how much you were told but this game is about emotions, feelings... touching and flirting, making the other person nervous and flustered, seeing how far you two are willing to go with each other… in a romantic kind of way. It's uniquely human... it may not be productive for you if you can't comprehend-"

"I have plenty of emotions and feelings! I can understand it perfectly fine!" He retorted, offended and seemingly embarrassed. You didn't know he could get embarrassed. Maybe he could in fact enjoy this game to its fullest. You intended to get something out of this experience. This could be fun. You had to admit, you'd been curious about the extent of Kiibo's understanding of human interactions and emotions for a while now. You wondered how much he could feel, emotionally and physically. If you pulled his hair, would he cry out? If you scratched his thigh, would it bleed simulated blood? There could be a lot of room for exciting discovery that awaited you.

"Well then, I'm curious..." you reach a single, cautious hand outward and stroke his hair. It's stunningly soft. It feels shockingly real, not like some cheap synthetic wig or some type of rubber or metal shaped to mimic hair. Kiibo did something like a vibration or shudder, a chill running down his spine. You wondered if this was a programmed response, all artificial and planned, or if Kiibo's free will really extended that far. How real did his creator intend for him to be? For what purpose was he truly built? What did a scientist stand to gain from making a feeling, loving, human-like young man? You could see a war machine or an endless knowledge bank easily being worth the time, but Kiibo didn't seem to excel in pretty much... anything. "How does that feel?"

"I... I don't know. It's making me... relax? I think that's how you'd describe it. I feel like I am running on low power and sluggish, but in a good way? On purpose..." he speaks softly.

"And this?" You run a hand down his pale cheek, and it's warmer than expected, though below a real human’s body temperature for sure. You're so focused on touching the simulated, soft, supple skin, that you don't even notice Kiibo's eyes blown wide open as if scanning you, entranced and staring almost through you. It was safe to say he might have been touched-starved, unused to the sensation.

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meta-squash · 20 days

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Some random maybe rambling thoughts about Jack and his feelings towards his team:

I think Jack's love for, relationship with, and treatment of each individual member of his team is really interesting.

Owen and Tosh are the two team members he truly hand-picked. He followed Owen and recruited him. He literally tracked Tosh down and made a deal to get her out of a UNIT prison. He did his research finding them, making sure they were right, convincing them to join him. He did, essentially, save them and allow them a space to remake themselves.

And for the most part he treats the two of them in a sort of paternal way. Owen, especially, but both of them. He's firm when he needs to be, and gentle when he needs to be, but there's this sort of distant yet intense protectiveness of them. Like the way a parent still sees their child as a vulnerable thing that needs caring for, even after their child is a fully grown adult. His love for them is extremely protective, but he's not close with them, he doesn't confess his thoughts or feelings to them except in dire circumstances like in Dead Man Walking when he's with Owen in the jail.

So his loss of them is a loss of a father because, in a sense, he created who they were in Torchwood. He found them, worked to recruit them. He gave them a space to grow and learn and change and hone their talents, and he supported and taught and molded them. They were part of his earliest hand-picked team, too, so they were there for long enough that they saw the growing pains, and they were his, in a way that I think he was sort of convinced they'd be with him for a long time, which is why he was so desperate to bring Owen back the first time. He loved them so much he kind of forgot Torchwood has a high mortality rate, sort of in the way a parent assumes they won't bury their child.

On the other hand, both Ianto and Gwen kind of recruited themselves. Ianto harassed Jack into a job, and Gwen unintentionally brute-forced herself out of Retcon in such a spectacularly dramatic way that it got her a job. They found him, not the other way around.

Jack's relationship with them is different. He's closer to them, less paternal, more confessional, more romantic. It's interesting that he sees them both as potential (and in Ianto's case, eventual) love interests. It seems like he doesn't feel quite as responsible for them, or at least he feels responsible in a different way. He's able to open up to them about himself in a way that he doesn't do with Tosh and Owen. And he's not as put off when they question him. It's almost as if because they independently forced themselves into the job, they're more like equals, or rivals, or something. There's a different sort of potential relationship there from Owen and Tosh.

But it also means that he doesn't or can't love them in the same way. I think somehow he subconsciously thinks he can stop himself from falling in love romantically, but he doesn't seem to think about that parental type of love. So he tries to keep his distance from Gwen and Ianto a bit, knowing he'll hurt them and they'll hurt him. But he doesn't take Owen and Tosh into account. But it does mean that Ianto's loss is different one. It's a grief of a romantic type, the loss of a lover, but it's also this awful "what if" that hangs there, what if Jack had been willing to be closer, had been willing to have a proper relationship with Ianto while it lasted instead of this sort of weird undefined thing, what if Ianto had lived, etc. And Gwen, too, becomes a "what if," in a living sense, once she's married to Rhys. That frisson is always there between them, but once she and Rhys are married it becomes a sort of hypothetical between them, what if she'd chosen Jack, what if they took it past the abstraction of yearning into something real, what if what if, etc. Only it's not mourning, it's something else entirely because she's still there with him.

I just find it so interesting that the two hand-picked members Jack seems to see as his children and the two who forced their way into to Torchwood he seems to see as potential romantic interests.

#torchwood #jack harkness #ianto jones #owen harper #toshiko sato #i'm talking only re: the original 3 series and not extended canon of audio/novels/etc

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jongseongsnudes · 5 months

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nine.

warning; 😥 0.8k words. masterlist.

“i still can not believe you went on a date with yeonjun. i think i’m crying actual tears.”

“you’re so dramatic, we were just hanging out,” you roll your eyes for what must’ve been the third time in the same phone call, “anyway i’ll talk to you later.”

you had been a nervous wreck all day, having spent it with the choi yeonjun. but despite your awkward self, yeonjun kept you comfortable in every way possible. conversation with the man was light heartedly and easy, allowing you to be as much as yourself as possible.

something you haven’t been able to do in awhile.

but as nervous as you were earlier, you were feeling ten times worse now, ironically standing right in front of heeseung’s apartment door. you didn’t want to be here but you knew you had to, to deal with this issue that shouldn’t have been one to begin with.

to end things before you found yourself deeper in this toxic one sided bullshit.

*knock knock*

a few moments pass before the door swings opened, revealing your fuck buddy in his usual home wear. a white shirt and some black shorts.

“heeseung... are you okay?”

“i’m fine.”

your heart drops to not only the sight of him but also his harsh voice. his drowsy eyes and reddened nose tells you that he’s anything but fine, the man evidently unwell compared to how you saw him just last night at the party. hitting up those girls.

“okay...” your voice trails off as you scan over his face, worry automatically dawning you, “have you eaten? taken some medication?”

“i’ve been sleeping all day.”

“it’s almost 8pm hee, you need to eat and i don’t mean take out.”

the man looks stunned at your words for a moment but nonetheless, steps aside, indirectly inviting you inside. and you enter without a second thought.

while heeseung disappeared to somewhere, you rummage through his cupboards for anything to whip up a quick meal with. perhaps you were doing more than you should’ve for him but despite your last night’s revelations, your heart still broke seeing heeseung the way that he was.

you were so used to the lee heeseung that everyone gawked at no matter where he went, the lee heeseung who was the main character in every setting and the man who charmed his way through anything and everything. yet here he was, barely able to open his eyes. entirely vulnerable for once.

“hey hee, come eat.”

the man appears before you all in two seconds, looking even worse than he did earlier and it killed you.

“can you please wear more than just a shirt? you’re sick heeseung,” you blurt out without much thought, only to have the man stare at you as if you’ve just said the most absurd thing in the world. “w- what?”

he shakes his head and begins eating, while you’re left to awkwardly watch him from across the kitchen bench.

it’s weird to say the least, how quickly things could change between you and him. just a week ago, the man would’ve been all over you the moment you stepped through that front door but here you were, standing in the middle of his apartment, 1 hour later, untouched and fully clothed.

it's as though you could feel the change, the weird tension in the air thick and suffocating. the look in his eyes, the way he spoke to you, it had become different. you guess it was really telling, a clear indication that this was coming to an end.

that you and him were back to being no more than strangers.

“is that a new dress? i haven’t seen it before.”

“uh yeah-” you mutter, having been caught off guard by his sudden question. you want to tell the truth, that this dress was for your date with yeonjun today but the chaos it could potentially bring was just not something you wanted to deal with right now. “anyway hee... i wanted to talk to you about something.”

“hm?”

apart of you wants to just blurt it out, to get it over and done with. because you have every right to. but the sight of him, barely able to look up at you has you second guessing your initial plan.

“you know what, we can talk another day. i’m gonna go, get some rest hee. call me when you get better.”

the man looks like he was about to say something but you don’t give him the chance, quickly grabbing your bag and heading for the door. as much as you have your heart set on ending things, you know for a given fact that you’re just as weak as ever being around him.

so run girl, run.

“do you want to stay? it’s late. i’ll drive you home tomorrow.”

gulp.

your poor heart is beating faster with every step that he took towards you, his towering presence one you’ve always felt even from a mile away. you knew it was now or never, before he does something to change your mind. lee heeseung was an expert at this.

“actually heeseung,” you turn around to face him now, eyes going up to meet his gaze that’s already on you, “i came tonight to tell you... i don’t want to do this anymore. lets end this friend with benefits.”

end.

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eshithepetty · 1 year

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I love terumob. They're so funny. Name another dynamic in which:

They start off by one of them beating the shit out of the other and strangling them to unconciousness. Despite this, the one who wins, by wide margin even, is actually the one who got strangled, because it just so happens that he has an all powerful eldritch entity locked inside him that tears everything to pieces and flings the other into the stratosphere in response. Y'know, as one does

The next time they meet, they acknowledge none of this, and instead immediately act buddy buddy to save the strangled kid's emo brother from a terrorist organisation.

And oh yeah, the terrorist organisation is a thing now. Apparently the one who got flung to the stratosphere, the blond one, knows them because they've been targetting him? And he just lives alone?? At 14??? Where are his parents

Which is to say, not surprising that this middle schooler is perfectly ready to torture a grown man, actually. If you think about it a little bit.

And its funny because the one who got strangled, bowl cut guy, is like, real moral right? Like thats his whole thing - he just really wants to be a good person, and he wants others to be good people as well. And yet, here he is, perfectly content to hang out with someone who doesnt even blink at potentially murdering a guy.

The murdering torturing middle schooler is also a delinquent leader and a popular kid btw, did you know. Well, he was at least, until he went dramatic in the opposite direction and now dresses like if a claires waste bin and a haystack had a baby. And bowl cut is decidedly, Not any of that. He's the most normal guy ever actually.

They literally couldn't be further from each other in personality.

How are they friends.

They make no sense <3

And yet maybe they make sense after all because bowlcut wants to be better, and because of him, haystack also wants to be better. Maybe they both see each other for what they could never be. Maybe they both see in each other the best versions of them. Maybe it's the self recognition through the horribly, extremely other. Maybe it's the easy acceptance. Maybe it's the self growth.

Maybe they make sense after all.

But in the end, over all this mushy shit, it's just extremely funny, that the world's most arrogant, immoral and prideful middle schooler, with fancy hair and neat clothes and many girlfriends and flourishing prospects can get literally sent through the clouds One time by an autistic kid in a bowlcut and immediately decide to turn his whole life around, centering on the axis of this one average, not-average boy - adopting his philosophy, ruining his wardrobe, abandoning his heterosexuality, while underneath it remaining still the boy with no parents and no intrinsic morals and no real humble bone in his body. Because if he's not the best, he's gotta be the best at aknowledging he's not the best. And he's so funny.

They're silly.

And i love them.

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #terumob #kageyama shigeo #hanazawa teruki #meta #(kinda)#also as of s3 haystack has also now learned how to override brainwashing through his gay ass feelings. so thats fun #i didnt include that cause i wrote this before these eps happened jdbdjd #anyways #i need to do homework 😔#ramble #my own post

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shirefantasies · 5 days

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can i request thorins company with a reader with really long hair?and maybe they have a really long hair care routine or something

also i luv your work!!Hope ur doing well💓

Doin’ better these days 🤞🏻 we love hair imagines for the company hehe

Thorin’s Company When You Have Really Long Hair

Absolutely worships it: Thorin, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bombur, Dori

Teases you a little: Dwalin, Nori, Fili

Just happy to have you: Balin, Bofur, Ori, Kili, Bilbo

Whether you wear it down, up, braids, locs, one big braid, your hair one of your favorite features of theirs and they all have a different way of showing it. Thorin, for example, loves to gently comb his fingers through your tresses if he can and is always holding it out of the way for you. Especially if you are not a dwarf, he deconstructs a lot of gatekeeping he would have done in the past and devotes himself to performing dwarven hair care practices and styles on you. Oin cares not for how long your routine is, he will learn it. Add to it or alter it a bit, even, with some of his own products, and you can’t really be too frustrated because dwarves do have the best hair products in Middle Earth. He has the gentlest hands as he caresses, treats, and styles your hair, never causing you a moment’s pain. Gloin glows with pride, practically insisting on handling your hair so long as you trust him. He’ll brag to anyone that you have the most gorgeous hair he’s ever seen even if you aren’t a dwarf. Let him do it up in braids, it’ll make him happier than anything! It can be hard to connect sometimes if you don’t speak Khuzdul, at least for Bifur, so he throws himself into acts of service. One of these is taking up the trouble of your long care routine. Silently he beckons you to sit between his legs, his hands working through your flowing hair. Gives you braids that match his and kisses them when he finishes. Bombur’s beard is very long, so he understands elaborate care routines. You two take up a trade of sorts where you re-braid his beard and he treats your hair, perhaps even trying a new style if you like! It may take a long time, but Bombur is in no hurry. Especially if your special routine gives him time to have his hands on you and in the hair he can't stop complimenting. Ever the aficionado of beauty, Dori adores the great flow of your locks and all their potential. If he has his way, he'll try many a different style and even decoration, weaving the prettiest beads and baubles and flowers in your hair. Always reminding you to take care of yours, he'll half-jokingly sigh and concede that alright, he'll simply do it himself. But of course that is simply his excuse to touch your beautiful hair, of course!

Dwalin loves your hair, adores the way you've let your tresses grow in a fashion any dwarf would be proud of, but he can't deny the irony. Your hair is long, flowing, tumbling far past your shoulders, and yet he has none. By a choice as proud as yours, but still. How could he help teasingly asking you, "Ya sure you don't wanna look like me? Lotta weight off those pretty shoulders." Similarly, Nori teases you, dramatically sweeping it off of your shoulder, that it gets in the way when he’s trying to enjoy you. He loves being able to move it off your face or off your shoulder for a kiss, though, he just can’t help joking around at all the time you take with it and simply how much there is. Of course Fili is going to tease you, it’s part of how he shows he cares. Jokes about if you’ll trip on your hair someday or playfully taking it in his hands to use as a blanket are interspersed with compliments about your beauty and Fili jumping constantly between you and danger. He’s always offering to braid it away from your eyes or tie it up to shorten it if it swings near your feet.

Balin cares about the heart more than the body, so while he cannot deny that your hair is beautiful he would not mind one bit if you lost it all. He brushes or detangles it so gently, but his eyes are on you the whole time and his favorite part of your elaborate care is simply the conversations you share, idle or deep. As someone who doesn’t exactly align with the beauty standards of his people, Bofur acknowledges he’d be quite the hypocrite if he imposed them on you, especially if you aren’t even a dwarf! What he wants most is someone who can make him smile, and as he’s told you you could do that even if you were bald as Dwalin! He lives to reassure you and also enjoys hearing that you’d love him no matter what, too, as you do each other’s braids. Ori is not focused on appearances, either, practically not noticing your hair until he makes to sketch it out and realizes how impressively long it really is. Then he’ll talk to you about it, curiosity overtaking him as he asks questions like how long it took to get it like that, if it gets in the way, what you do for it… Flushes the first time you invite him to touch it, but from then on he’s addicted! Plays with it idly a lot of the time. Kili finds a little bit of beauty in everyone, so long hair or short you can catch his heart. He can’t help swooning over the way your long tresses, braids, however you keep it glisten in the sun. Teasingly reaches out to touch it, but never actually does until he has permission. When he does, though, expect a few playful tugs! Bilbo has even less expectations about your hair as hobbits don’t typically keep theirs so long. It comes as a bit if a surprise to him to see yours, but it reminds him of the beauty of the elves. It’s unfamiliar and he loves the unfamiliar if he lets himself admit it. He does, and from there he insists upon relieving you of that long routine of yours “now that I’m here”.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🥰

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bitethedevil · 7 days

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The Devil's Dinner Party (Raphael x Tav)

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (Finished)

Summary: Tav accepts Raphael’s invitation to a dinner party after she had handed him the Crown of Karsus. None of her companions show up, so it is just her, Raphael, and a bunch of Raphael’s favored clients. Raphael is suspiciously kind to her, but everything might not be as perfect as it seems. (This is only the first chapter, it’s going to be a longer thing)

(AN: This isn’t super edited and it’s the first fic that I’ve ever posted, so bear with me. English isn’t my first language either, so there might be some odd words or weird grammar some places. I am an English major though, so hopefully it shouldn’t be too bad. This fic has just been gnawing on my mind since I started it yesterday. There will be more chapters.)

Tav took a deep breath to calm her nerves and adjusted her dress before stepping into the portal. She arrived in the foyer of the House of Hope in a swirl of embers and smoke. A tiefling servant greeted her politely when she appeared. Tav was ushered into the area where Raphael had brought them in the beginning of their adventure all that time ago. It looked the same, except the table in the center of the room had been switched out with a larger one.

She looked around the room in search of a familiar face. She cursed her companions internally when she noticed that she was the only one of them who had accepted Raphael’s invitation. She had thought that at least Astarion would have jumped at the chance to attend such a fancy event.

However, she was not the only person there. There were at least fifteen other people present who she had no idea who was. None of them devils. At least not as far as Tav could tell. Most likely, they were also favored clients of Raphael.

All the people around her were dressed in opulent clothing and jewelry. Tav felt grateful that she had decided on buying new clothes for the occasion, despite her almost attending in an old dress she had found in the back of her closet.

A drink was placed in her hand by one of the servants. She took a long sip to calm her nerves. She looked around for the one familiar face that she knew for certain would be attending, but the devil she knew was nowhere to be seen. Most likely he was somewhere waiting for the perfect moment for his dramatic entrance. Tav rolled her eyes at the thought and took yet another sip of her drink.

She suddenly noticed that a few of the other guests started looking in her direction. She jumped when she felt a hand being gently placed on her back.

“My, what have we here?” a familiar voice purred.

Raphael came up beside her. He was wearing his usual smug smile and even fancier clothes than she was used to seeing him in.

“I’m glad you came,” he said with a slight bow. “It shows that you have better manners than your dear friends, it seems.”

“So it seems…” Tav said, still feeling slightly bitter about the fact that they did had not shown up. “I apologize on their behalf. I’m sure they had good reasons.”

“I’m sure…” Raphael said with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “But no matter. You are here. The guest of honor whose name went on the contract that ensured me the crown. Without you, there would be no celebration tonight.”

“Mm…right…” Tav said quietly while absentmindedly swirling the contents of the glass she was holding.

There it was again. That nauseous feeling of guilt and anxiety that she had also felt when she had handed the Crown of Karsus to him. It had been her name on the contract. It had been her who handed him an artifact that potentially could destroy worlds and gods know what else.

It had been the whole reason that she could not decline his invitation as her friends had. Most of her companions had wanted to turn a blind eye to the idiotic actions of their leader and forget about it. Tav needed to see. Her attendance was a desperate attempt to gain some semblance of control over the situation.

“And if I may be so bold…” Raphael said in a hushed voice, shaking her from her train of thought. “What a precious sight. To see you in proper clothes instead of that ragged armor you wore when we first met. You look wonderful, my dear.”

Tav blinked as she wrestled herself away from the anxious thoughts in her head to return to reality. She dumbly looked down at her dress and then back at Raphael.

“Oh, thank you,” she said and forced a polite smile. “You look nice as well.”

Raphael gave her a smile and briefly squeezed her shoulder before walking to the center of the room to properly welcome his guests and invite them to sit down.

The dinner itself was as one could expect when dining in the House of Hope. There was every kind of food that you could possibly imagine. There were also expensive wines from all corners of the realms. The servants constantly ran back and forth to make sure that no one lacked anything.

To Tav’s great relief, she had been seated beside a talkative stranger, so she did not have to sit through the dinner in silence. The stranger was a young half-elf, who introduced himself as Rolim. Tav could gather that he was a merchant of some sort. He was quite handsome with his sharp elvish features. He had blonde hair, brown eyes, and a bright smile when he talked.

Tav barely got a word in while he was talking, but she found that she did not mind. He talked excitedly about the success of his business and the new mansion he had recently acquired. No doubt with the help of a certain devil, Tav suspected.

The few times Tav turned her attention away from the young man, she noticed Raphael unashamedly studying her from the other end of the table. He did not eat, but simply drank wine while he looked as if he was barely listening to the two people on either side of him who were eagerly speaking to him.

“…Don’t you agree?” Rolim asked her and pulled her attention away from Raphael’s gaze.

“Hm?” she said, having no idea what he was asking her.

“That Baldur’s Gate might be a promising place to expand my business to. That is where you said you were from, yes?” Rolim said with a smile.

“Oh yes, it is,” Tav said with a polite smile. “Certainly. Although I have to admit that I don’t know a whole lot about how it is to run a business in the Gate.”

“I think it could be promising,” Rolim continued cheerfully. “Perhaps I could visit sometime, and you could show me around the city?”

Oh. He was flirting with her, Tav realized.

“Hm, yes,” she said with a forced smile. “Perhaps…May I ask you something, Rolim?”

“Of course!” he said.

Tav leaned a bit closer to him and lowered her voice so that no one else would eavesdrop.

“I hope it’s not rude to ask, but why is it that you were invited here exactly?” she asked.

“Oh,” he spoke in an almost exaggerated hushed voice to match Tav’s. “I can’t really tell you the specifics, but I am a client of Raph’s.”

Tav suppressed a giggle. ‘Raph’? No doubt Raphael hated that.

“Right,” she said. “I thought as much. Just curious.”

Their talk was interrupted by a clinging on glass. Raphael got up from his chair to hold a speech. He started out by thanking those who had attended. Then it turned into a predictably dramatic and theatrical speech about his desire for the crown and his eventual success. He then, surprisingly, also credited the person who had brought him the crown. He spoke warmly of Tav exclusively, completely disregarding her fellow adventurers, much to her discomfort since everyone was staring at her while he did. She forced a smile until it was over.

She was beyond relieved when it was finally over, and the other guests had stopped staring at her like she was a monkey in a zoo.

“It was you?” Rolim asked once the moment was over. “You defeated the elderbrain? Why didn’t you say? You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate!”

“It wasn’t just me,” she said a bit too harshly. It annoyed her that her companions had not been credited in Raphael’s speech. “It was me and a whole lot of other people that I could not have done it without.”

“Still, you did it!” Rolim said excitedly. “I’ve heard the bards sing of it even in my corner of Faerûn.”

To Tav’s luck, people were beginning to leave the table. She saw her opportunity to escape the conversation and did not hesitate to take it.

“I’m going to get some air,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Alright, but when you get back, I want to hear all about it!” Rolim called after her.

She walked through the house, desperate to get away from all the noise and curious looks for a moment. She found a balcony. She leaned up against the railing and closed her eyes for a moment while taking deep breaths.

All of it was just too much. She hated it. She shouldn’t have gone. She wasn’t a hero. A hero would not have handed the crown to a bloody devil. Baldur’s Gate might have been saved, but who could say what destruction the future might have in store with such powers in Raphael’s hands?

There was a reason why she had isolated herself after the defeat of the elderbrain. She never attended the events that she had been invited to by the city, because she could not look any of the people there in the eyes while they celebrated her. Her companions. Her friends. They were the real heroes. They had all suffered and overcome so much, even before the whole tadpole business. She might have wasted all of it by making one stupid decision.

She took another deep, shaky breath to calm her nerves and stop the tears that were threatening to fall. The view of the hellscape of Avernus did nothing to calm her. It was disorientating. It was night, but still it looked like it was day over the jagged and desolate red landscape.

“Enjoying the view?”

She jumped and turned around to find Raphael sitting down on one of the chairs behind her.

“You have got to stop scaring the shit out of me,” she said. “It’s getting old, Raphael.”

Raphael chuckled.

“Language,” he chided. “It’s hardly my fault that you are such a nervous little thing.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure your guests miss you,” she said. “I will be back in a moment. I just needed some air. I’m not going to snoop around in your house or anything.”

“I know you wouldn’t dare,” Raphael said smoothly while studying her with a tilted head. “My guests will be fine. No doubt they can fill each other’s ears with mindless chatter instead of mine. Sit.”

He gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the small table beside him.

“It’s fine, really,” she said. “I just needed a moment.”

“Sit,” he ordered again. “Something is clearly on your mind, dear.”

She could hear from his tone that he would not let it go, so she sat down.

Raphael snapped his fingers and a hookah appeared on the table. Tav raised an eyebrow and looked from the hookah to Raphael. They sat in silence for a moment as Raphael prepared it. Despite her restless mind, she could not help being slightly amused at the odd gesture.

Raphael placed the mouthpiece at the end of the hose between his lips, took a long drag and exhaled the smoke smoothly. Then he offered it to Tav.

“For those pesky nerves of yours.”

“Oh,” Tav said and waved her hand dismissively at the gesture. “I’ve never smoked before.”

“There’s a first for everything, no?” he said. “Indulging once won’t kill you.”

Tav sighed slightly and took the hose of the hookah from his hand. She placed the mouthpiece between her lips and cautiously inhaled the smoke. She started coughing hard as she exhaled.

“Or perhaps it will,” Raphael chuckled as he took it back from her to take another drag.

As her coughing fit subsided, she felt light-headed. However, just as Raphael said, it did also make her feel somewhat more relaxed.

“Now,” Raphael said. “Tell me what it is that troubles you.”

“It’s nothing,” Tav said and shook her head.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said calmly. “I can see it in your eyes. I have my suspicions as to what could be bothering you, of course. Tell me and I promise you, I will not take offense.”

She looked at him. She did not know if was the effect of the wine, the hookah or the almost kind tone of Raphael’s voice that made her want to tell him everything. She wanted to tell him all those things that she had kept to herself and that had eaten away at her insides for months after the defeat of the elderbrain.

“I feel like a failure,” she said, her voice almost breaking at the confession. “We went through so much. Saved so many people back then. And for what? For me to hand over the crown to you. That was my decision…”

There was not as much as a trace of anger on Raphael’s face as she explained. He even looked somewhat sympathetic. He listened attentively while occasionally taking drags from the hookah.

“I saw it in their eyes, you know? I still do,” she said looking out over the balcony with an empty stare. “They didn’t say anything about it, but I know they were disappointed with my decision. I don’t blame them.”

“You are entirely too hard on yourself, mouse,” Raphael said. “You did what you had to do, as a good leader should. They are in no position to judge you.”

“No, they should. They should judge me,” she countered. “The defeat of the elderbrain was a product of their hard work as well. I robbed them of having a say in the final decision. I would never have gotten that far if it had not been for them, and I still spat in their face, and stupidly chose an option that might one day destroy all we fought to save.”

“Do not speak so low of yourself,” Raphael said in an almost angry tone. “It was your right to make that decision. You say that you would not have gotten that far without them, but that is where you are wrong. They would never have gotten that far without you. You made the difficult choices. You took on responsibility when no one else stepped forward.”

“But– “

“No, Tav,” Raphael interrupted. “I will not stand listening to you speak ill of yourself in such a manner, when you only did what none of your companions had the sense of responsibility to do. They closed their eyes and handed the reins to you when things became unsavory, did they not? Is that not why none of them are present tonight?”

Tav hated what he was saying, but he did have a point. They had once again looked away and left the mess to her. She would also have been lying if she said that it had not been something that had irked her even back then. How they would leave the decisions to her, but still complain about it when they disagreed. She did offer them plenty of opportunities to take her place, but none of them ever stepped forward.

Raphael knew that he had hit a nerve and softened his tone.

“They don’t deserve you,” he said. “I meant what I said in the speech, when I said that you were the one to defeat the elderbrain. Without you, they would have gotten themselves killed long before they could even reach Baldur’s Gate.”

Raphael took one last drag and got up from his seat. He stood in front of her.

“As for my plans with the crown…” he said and extended a hand to her. “Come. I want to show you something.”

She took it and got up from her seat as well.

“You really ought to get back to your guests, Raphael,” she said as she held the crook of his arm as he brought her through the house.

“And neglect my very favorite guest? Nonsense,” he said with a charming smile.

He brought her to his archive. Artifacts were beautifully displayed on pedestals. Raphael brought her to the pedestal in the middle of the archive. She squinted at the paper displayed on the pedestal.

“Is that...?”

“Your contract, yes,” he said. “It still is one of my most precious possessions.”

She looked at her own signature at the bottom of the document. Then she read the sign beside it: ‘A most-cherished client.’

It was sweet, in a way, that he would display it in such a manner, Tav thought for a brief moment. Then she immediately shook the thought away. This was Raphael, after all. She immediately became aware that she was still holding his arm even though they had stopped. She instinctively let go of it.

“Why are you showing me this?” she asked with curiosity.

“To remind you of our deal, of course,” he said. “You never did read it, did you?”

“It’s in Infernal,” she said with a shrug.

“Perceptive as ever,” Raphael chuckled. “Yes, it is. Though, had you asked, I would gladly have translated it…Would you like me to read it to you?”

She hesitated for a moment. Perhaps, it was better to not know. There was nothing that she could do about it now, after all. Still…she was curious.

“Please,” she said and gestured to it.

Raphael smiled at her before he started reading the first clause in Infernal. It shook her slightly to hear him speak in another language. Infernal being such a harsh and guttural language. Raphael spoke it with ease. Tav found it oddly attractive, which was no doubt an intentional effect that Raphael was well-aware of.

He went through each clause, first in Infernal and then in the common tongue. Tav found herself, not for the first time, lost in the way he spoke and that velvety voice of his. Especially because he made a show of looking at her while he did it. Impressively, he could recite most of the contract by memory.

When he was done, Tav surprisingly found herself more reassured than worried. It did contain all the things that they had agreed on. Raphael would not use the crown to dominate mortals and the crown would stay in the Hells.

“So, as you can see,” he said and gestured to the contract. “There is nothing to worry your pretty head over.”

She glanced at the contract again. She did feel less worried, but she also still felt like there could be something that she was missing.

“I have never lied to you, Tav,” Raphael said as if he had just read her thoughts. “And I have always dealt fairly with you, have I not?”

“That’s debatable,” Tav said and looked at him. “We did exchange an insanely powerful artifact for a bloody hammer.”

Raphael laughed.

“An insanely powerful artifact that none of you would ever be able to harness the power of, in exchange for a ‘bloody hammer’ that your very survival depended on.”

“Hm,” Tav huffed stubbornly.

“Hm,” Raphael teased and mimicked her huff with an amused smile. “Come. Let us get back to those guests of mine that you seem to be so worried about.”

Raphael gently put his arm around her shoulders to guide her out of the archive. His little touches and his gentleness with her did not go unnoticed by Tav, but she found that she did not mind. Even though she knew better. She should be suspicious. She knew she should, but it was hard when the man was so damn charming about it.

#writing #raphael the cambion #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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theweeklydiscourse · 10 months

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Baghra was always a terrible mentor and we were gaslit into thinking she wasn’t.

I was scanning Ruin and rising to find a few passages for a Darkling meta I was in the process of writing and I happened upon a very interesting conversation between Baghra and Alina. In this conversation, they discuss merzost and its potential consequences as Baghra scolds Alina for seeking the firebird. Baghra’s argument is both contradictory and unhelpful, serving only as a condemnation of Alina’s efforts to defeat the Darkling. There is no wisdom in this exchange, only judgement from an old woman who has no idea what she’s talking about.

So let’s break it down.

Alina confesses that she dabbled in merzost and Baghra responds in her usual ominous and vague manner, grabbing Alina’s wrists for dramatic effect. She warns Alina that merzost can only cause misery, citing the creation of the fold as an example and seems to imply that Alina might journey down a similar path. Baghra gestures towards the inherently corruptive nature of merzost and expresses concern for Alina’s potential. Interestingly, it was exactly her use of merzost that allowed Alina to thwart Aleksander at the end of Siege and Storm. Alina also contradicts herself: “I didn’t do it myself” but “I used the connection between us, (…) to control the Darkling’s power.” she creates a disconnect between herself and the use of merzost as a way of softening the blow. She claims that the merzost was involuntary, but at the same time uses words that signal her activity as opposed to the passivity she initially professed.

This is a small example of Alina’s tendency to claim helplessness and deny her agency. Truthfully, she did use the merzost to save her friends and try to kill Aleksander, a sacrificial act to defeat the big bad. It almost worked, it was effective at warding him off for a time while they regrouped and recovered from the ambush.

Now THIS is what really set me off. Alina argues that she may not have a choice in wether or not she uses merzost to defeat Aleksander and honestly? She’s right. At this point, the narrative has told us that negotiation is not an option, Aleksander is on the war path and the consequences of not fighting him could cost thousands of lives. All of this is presumed to be true and yet, Baghra still takes up this aggravating “holier than thou” attitude towards the pursuit of the firebird.

Baghra: Wow Alina… you’re going to sacrifice the life of this INNOCENT animal for the sake of your own power? This poor innocent bird? I can’t believe you would be so cruel.

Alina: People are dying Baghra.

Baghra’s framing is so manipulative. She’s straight up accusing Alina of being a power hungry villain who would gladly sacrifice an “ancient life” for HER own power. Bitch, since when has this been where we draw the line? Baghra acts as if killing the firebird for the sake of an amplifier is a testament to Alina’s greed but Alina HAS NO OTHER CHOICE. She clutches her pearls at the notion of Alina killing an old bird to save the country as if she hasn’t ranted at length about how dangerous Aleksander is. Baghra has spoken of Aleksander as the apocalypse personified, and yet when presented with the most viable option of defeating him she cries: “but think of that poor ancient life!”?

In the same exchange, she completely dismisses Alina’s peaceful resolution of being merciful to the stag and mocks her for suggesting such a childish idea. But notice how she suggests no other alternative? If she’s so passionate about protecting this ancient creature, why not propose a plan to defeat Aleksander that doesn’t require killing the final amplifier? Instead she scolds Alina for her greed and derides her for doing what is necessary to save the country. Alina tell her that no one is strong enough to stand against an army of shadow soldiers and Baghra STILL dismisses her efforts to do the right thing.

It is here that Alina acknowledges her intentions to seek power and uses sound reasoning to do so. She is the only person strong enough to stand against Aleksander and NEEDS the amplifiers to win. “Abomination against abomination” but I don’t see you offering any alternatives Baghra. If this hag cared so much about preventing an all out magical war maybe she should’ve been proactive during the centuries where she witness Aleksander’s rise to power.

Baghra’s “warnings” are complete nonsense and devoid of reason. It is her reacting to Grisha power with disgust and expressing contempt towards Alina for giving a damn about the country’s welfare. But what do we expect from Baghra? She’s always been more concerned with preserving decorum and her own moral purity than taking a stand against injustice. She does not offer sage advice, only condescending and vague bullshit that validates her self righteous martyr complex.

#shadow and bone #lb critical #alina starkov #s&b critical #the darkling #s&b salt #s&b netflix #aleksander morovoza #darklina #anti leigh bardugo #anti baghra #baghra morozova #pro darkling #ruin and rising #grishaverse #grishaverse meta #close reading

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jessicamessicavillageofspillage · 5 months

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Apparently transpeople will also die from the inaccurate recording of Sex within statistics

The collection of data on a person’s sex – that is, whether they are male or female – has become controversial in recent years, and a number of public bodies have moved away from collecting data on sex as a result. For example, Scotland’s chief statistician recently issued guidance stating that data on sex should only be collected in exceptional circumstances. This move has been greeted with alarm by quantitative social scientists who believe that data on sex is vitally important and that data on both gender identity and sex is needed.

The Office for National Statistics (ONS) was also embroiled in controversy when it proposed to guide respondents to the 2021 England and Wales census that they may answer the sex question in terms of their subjective gender identity, rather than their sex. This was despite the fact that the 2021 census also included a new separate question on gender identity. The ONS was forced to change its proposed guidance on the sex question by a judicial review and went on to advise that people should answer the first question to reflect their legal sex. The Scottish census authorities have been criticised for disregarding the implications of that judgment.

Statistics on employment, health, crime and education have all been affected by this trend.

The Government Equalities Office has issued guidance to employers who are legally bound to report on their gender pay gap to provide data on their employees’ gender identity, not their sex, and to exclude employees who “do not identify as ‘men’ or ‘women’” from the data. This makes it impossible to assess whether natal males who identify as trans or non-binary may have different labour-market experiences from natal females who identify as trans or non-binary. Yet non-binary or transgender identification may not protect females from discrimination, for example, on the basis of pregnancy or maternity or the perceived risk of becoming pregnant.

The NHS decides who to call for routine medical screenings based on the gender marker a person has recorded with their GP rather than their sex as recorded as birth. The NHS’s failure to record biological sex on patient records has led to trans patients not being called in for screening for conditions that may affect them due to their sex, such as ovarian cancer or prostate cancer. If trans patients are not screened for such conditions, the consequences are potentially fatal. The use of gender identity rather than sex has also led to confusion for some trans patients attempting to use sexual health services.

Freedom of information requests have revealed that multiple police forces in England now record crimes by male suspects as committed by women if the perpetrator requests to be recorded as such. Even small numbers of cases misclassified in this way can lead to substantial bias in crime statistics.

Differences between the sexes are an important factor for analysis in most, if not all, of the areas that social and health scientists address. Sex, alongside age, is a fundamental demographic variable, vital for projections regarding fertility and life expectancy. Sex has systematic effects on physical health and is also linked to mental health. And the importance of sex extends to all aspects of social life, including employment, education and crime.

We know that many differences between the sexes have changed dramatically over time – education and labour market participation are two examples. Without consistent data on sex, social scientists would not be able to track this change over time or to understand whether efforts to improve the representation of women and girls in domains where they are underrepresented have been effective.

We have been losing data on sex, as public sector bodies have switched to collecting data on gender identity instead. But the tide may have turned. The UK Statistics Authority has recently published guidance that recommends that “sex, age and ethnic group should be routinely collected and reported in all administrative data and in-service process data, including statistics collected within health and care settings and by police, courts and prisons”. It also says data producers should clearly distinguish between concepts such as sex, gender and gender identity.

Both people’s material circumstances and their identities are important to their lives. We know that sex matters, and we have much to learn about the ways in which gender identity matters, too. Rather than removing data on sex, we should collect data on both sex and gender identity, in order to develop a better understanding of the influence of both of these factors and the intersection between them.

Original article in The Conversation

Professor Alice Sullivan’s academic profile

UCL Social Research Institute

#social science #data #Erasure of equality measures for everyone #radblr #radical feminism

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mdhwrites · 3 months

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Can you explain to me how the Titan enforces Christian Fundamentalism?

The Titan makes the only crime Belos committed be that he was a false prophet. Luz is beyond reproach though because she is a true prophet and a true believer. She is then sent to murder a men, blessed with holy power and strength in her convictions, by that God... And we are supposed to cheer.

This isn't even much of an exaggeration or dramatization. The Titan's answer to Luz's fears about justifying horrible acts in the name of protecting others is essentially this. That Belos' true crime wasn't in wanting to kill, oppress or lie. It's that he did it for selfish, self aggrandizing reasons. That if he'd simply been honest and earnest, he might feel a little bad for a mistake or two here or there, like the Titan is about the Collector, but he would have been entirely justified in his genocide. Just like they are beyond approach for wanting this man dead.

As the show says "He wants to be a hero and have the power," but then Luz comes in, trying to have a badass one liner for her return and even says "Darn it, I still can't think of what to say" which isn't even a reference to an earlier part of the show (I don't think at least). It implies Luz waited to come back when it would be the most dramatic and when she was most ready to look the part of the hero. She even references Azura, the FICTIONAL HERO, in her last speech and goes back to the catchphrase she wanted for a hero just nuking a bitch. She TOOOOTALLY doesn't care about being a hero though and because of that, she's all good to be doing all of this. That's what the Titan claimed at least.

Worse yet is that we only really have the Titan's word for glory and power being all Belos cared about. The fucker spent CENTURIES on the Isles. He deformed his body and probably doesn't believe he'll go to Heaven anymore with how much magic he had to internalize in order to pursue the goal of genocide. Even when alone, with no one to prove anything to, he still talks about saving souls and just needing to survive to do this. He's okay with dying afterwards because he DOESN'T care about the glory. Literally the only time he seems to give a shit about other people's approval and the status this might get him is the Witch Hunter General lines and you know what, I don't think it's entirely unfair for him to hope to get some recognition out of four hundred years of work, even if that work was pure evil. You could maybe say Philip's journal shows a hero complex but A: that still doesn't make his belief in protecting others a lie, just means that he has an ego about it, and B: is from hundreds of years ago and he literally abandoned the journal eventually. Abandoned his own heroic tale. By the finale... His intentions are pure. At bare minimum, that's how they are framed by the show itself with his desperation to do this, even at the cost of ending himself. So why does he deserve to die by the show's logic?

Well... He doesn't. He doesn't even deserve to be stopped because his faith is earnest. Except... It's not the right faith, is it? Belos doesn't believe in magic. Doesn't believe in the Titan. He is a blasphemer and false prophet. But now Luz has actually spoken with the Titan, been friends with his son and spread her ideals across the Isles, ideals which are strictly not the Isle's ways but that do theoretically make the basis of the Titan claiming she's a good witch (which is also referencing Azura potentially). The literal first person we meet on the Isles doesn't give a shit about things like lying, cheating, etc. and the early episodes give the impression that no one here does. That Belos doesn't force conformity on that matter even, making it so that these baseline morals that Luz disagrees with are earnest and honest. And yet, none of them are allowed to stay that way. They all enter her fold and listen to explicitly her morality. A morality that happens to line up with Christian morals and that the Titan seems to approve of.

And again, that's not interpretation. The finale actually straight up confirms this isn't the Isle's morality and REVELS in that fact. Belos begs for his life, saying they are not murderers, scoundrels and killers. That their culture demands better of them because they're human. Luz doesn't disagree... But she also doesn't do the act herself (unless you want to say she brought on the rain, but then you have her boiling a man to death which is just HORRIFYING.) Then, in a moment we're supposed to cheer for, Luz's closest connections with the Isles, and Raine tacked on, show up, proudly say they're not better than murderers, and stomp the fucker out. Not a quick mercy killing like a blast of magic or a magic scream might have done. Not the eviscerating explosion Luz had to do as a part of stopping him. No, instead, they brutally stomp out a defenseless, dying man before Raine literally says, "That was satisfying."

Our. Heroes.

And don't get me wrong: Belos needed to die. Thematically it's correct and narratively it's correct. The problem is how the show frames this final conflict. It literally asks if it's okay to kill him. What is a reasonable justification for murder. For even wanting another person to die. For a lot of kids, this might be the first time they hear ANY nuance on this topic. So what is the lesson imparted? Is it that sometimes force is necessary but we should only do it when we are certain that more lives will be lost otherwise and that there is no other option? That'd be a great way to show the Titan actually learned something from his mistake with the Collector. Is it that we can't show tolerance to the intolerant because they will only ever take and destroy? Refute an argument that modern racists use to allow hate speech and actions against others. Is it the simple fact that because Luz actually fears being monstrous, she won't end up the same way because that fear and hesitation will never let her commit the sort of genocide that Belos desires? Or heck, say they aren't racist without saying the word by going "We judge him for his actions and the cruelties he has committed, not by the cruelties of a people or the circumstances of their birth." All of which would be varying degrees of fine morality wise and are genuinely ways good people cope with having to commit horrific violence.

No. Instead, it's just that one did it while excusing it with lies while Luz will do it with pure faith in her heart. You... You do know that the VAST majority of Christians literally use this as a way to dismiss bad actors in the church itself? "He doesn't represent all Christians! He didn't actually hold the faith!" Do you think every brimstone and fire preacher is just a complete liar and not a SINGLE one of them genuinely believes what they preach? Because I'm sorry to break it to you but even as far back as the fucking Crusades, while sure the leaders were corrupt, secular men, most of the soldiers were genuinely god fearing people, terrified for their souls and seeking this as their only form of penance, especially as they saw it as protecting Christianity. It's one of the reasons they were able to do so much damage because the goal for the common soldier wasn't conquest or national pride. It was to murder the other culture who had taken sacred land. They believed earnestly... So were they justified in the massacres of civilians that they committed?

And this is without getting into how we have literally a Holy Trinity of the father (the Titan's corpse), the son (King, who is exceptionally self sacrificing eventually), and the holy ghost, in a very literal sense. Or how about the glyphs being called the Titan's Language and given to Luz to empower her? How invoking simply his words grants one exceptional power? The Hexside Squad in the finale use glyphs, half of them for the first time, to supplement their powers while dead exhausted and it doesn't seem to just be able to help them, it is still keeping them close to their normal power level and potentially energizing them with how not tired they appear to be while doing this. Almost like they're prayers, pulling on the power of a higher being.

But those elements don't matter. For the sake of the Titan supporting Christian Fundamentalism, all that matters is that he puts faith above what is morally correct. That you can excuse any action so long as you are genuine in the belief that you are doing it for the right reasons. Eda could be making this same argument and it would still be wrong and morally reprehensible.

It's literally "The ends justify the means," and how is that your final lesson, for your main character, in a KID'S SHOW? Let alone when that is EXACTLY the argument Belos, THE VILLAIN, has always made. Not just with wiping out witches but with petrification, lying to Lilith, manipulating Hunter, etc. etc. That it was all justified for his grand, 'good' ends.

I already stated arguments that could have been made, that wouldn't have taken much more time to do (if any), that would fix this so don't you DARE even consider bringing up the shortening with this. It is one scene that does the vast majority of this. Arguably, like five lines tops. Five lines that destroy the morality of your very show and any chance at saying Christian Fundamentalism is wrong.

All because its last message wasn't that prophets should be questioned. Only that there are prophets to listen to explicitly and that you should avoid false prophets... Somehow. Maybe just ask if they like anime I guess?

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This was first written before I saw the finale, then I tried to make minor adjustments because of the better absorption of events but ended up rewriting the whole thing because I wanted to better focus on just the hypocrisy and god awful morals than talking about if the Titan counted as God or god.

Also, just for those curious: I was raised on Christian morals and did go to church when I was VERY young. My faith nowadays is that I consider there to be comfort in there being a higher power but that I do not care what form they take, nor do I really like organized religion as while it brings comfort and community to many, it also is all too easy to corrupt with personal greed and anger. I've been told the closest label to this is agnostic.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical #toh #the owl house #the titan toh

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