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creatingblackcharacters · 2 days

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"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1

Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.

There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!

Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!

Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.

None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!

Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!

If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.

I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!

My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!

POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!

Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.

That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.

It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.

But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.

My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.

People were HORRIFIC about Louis.

It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.

My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.

POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?

While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.

For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.

But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)

I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.

POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!

As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!

I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!

POINT#5: You are NOT Black!

This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!

For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?

An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!

I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.

Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.

My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.

Conclusion

We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!

And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black character design #black culture

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junkanimate · 3 days

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EHY I'VE BEEN READING A LOT OF FANFICTIONS LATELY

I know, who would have guess?? Anyway I wanted to send some appreciation all around to some of the fanfics I've read, because writers need some more appreciation in general.

so, in no particular order:

✨Here's a list of fanfics I've read/I'm reading that I think they're pretty good✨

Solid Stone Turns To Clay by @randyzorra - MK fic

A solid Johnshi fic set in a pirate au, I'm absolutely obsessed with it. It's a beautiful slow burn, where Johnny is a disgraced bounty hunter who's trying to regain his fame by stealing The Shadow, legendary cursed ship. Ship that so happens to have a certain someone as her captain. Honestly not only I love the romance, but also the friendship between Johnny and Kung Lao and Johnny and Baraka.

Beware that this fic is tagged as explicit, so check the tags carefully

Back There by houndhead - MK fic

Ehy, have you ever thought that Raiden wasn't there when the others went to Outworld to find Shang Tsung? Yeah what if they never told him what happened back there because of good ol' classic trauma? I'm in love with this concept and houndhead explores it in a very interesting way, showing us how each character would act after experiencing what happened at the lab. I also really love how the characters interact with each other, in the last chapter Tanya and Tomas are just perfect.

Raise The Blade (Make The Change) by cherrycola94 - MK fic

A very fun Johnshi fic that's written a little bit like a script, it has some added scene set before the game, some exploration of the canon through a Johnshi lense, ad finally it continues as a post canon, with a very fun story. While I was reading it I could see in my head the scene perfectly, like it was actually a movie. The second chapter has an AMAZING SCENE, like I was so in love that I have a wip of that scene. I should come back and finish it honestly. The new chapter had exactly the kind of scene I was craving for recently, I'm so happy they wrote it!

But I lowered my sword when you held me and swore (you'd stay, stay, stay) by @necromanticzz - MK fic

It's a johnshi fic with a Kenshi pov, where Kenshi has so many walls up doesn't want any help but Johnny just seems to be able to go through them without any problems. Honestly I also advice the other fic necromanticzz wrote about them, the way Kenshi gets chracterized in both of them is just *chef's kiss* perfect, beautiful, amazing. The two fics are just my favourite in the way Kenshi is written, applause all around, love it.

Koffee Shop Kombat by @loujitsushotsoup - MK fic

Because a classic coffee shop au is always needed. We have multiple ships, different writing styles between chaptes, changing with which character's pov we are following, and I love the creativity that was put in it. You maybe saw this post where I drew one of the scenes in this fic, so YOU KNOW that I mean it when i say that I love this fic. And I'm a big sucker for coffee shops as a setting, really love them in real life as well.

Cole's Chilli Recipe by @before-time-had-a-name - Ninjago fic

Another fic where I drew one of the scenes and it's because it deserves it. It's a lostshipping fic, very sweet, very cozy, honestly Cole and Geo make me incredibly emotional everytime and this fic also straight up picked me up and squashed me. I saw in some of the reblogs on my post that people went to check out the fic and I'm so happy about it because they deserve his work to be checked out. And honestly if I can give her more spotlight I will take the chance. Go check out this fic, it's very cool.

Here Comes Casey Jones by Invader_Sam - TMNT MM fic

Very sweet rasey fic that takes place post movie, with the turtles going to highschool and Raph meeting for the first time Casey Jones. What can I say? I just really love Rasey, and I love they're both clearly crushing on each other but they're not really saying it. And the fact that there's no unecessary teenage angst, they just really like each other, and I love that for them ❤

Think Of It As War Paint by less_depresso_more_espresso - TMNT 2012 fic

Another Rasey one, short and sweet, where both of them honestly are giving so much gender in my humble opinion. It's hard to explaning it without just saying all the fic, so we could say it's about them just chilling on a roof.

A Garden Across Our Collarbone by PittedPeaches - LMK fic

I think everyone and their mom already know this fic, and if you don't it would be my honor to talk to you about it. This for me is THE spicynoodle fic, it was one year of my life and honestly at the end of it I cried. This is a soulmate au, where demons sometimes have soulmates, and when that happen it's like they share skin, so they can write stuff on their body and it will appeared on the skin of their soulmate. It mostly starts like a rewriting of seson 1-2-3 by Red son's pov with this new dynamic, and then it becomes a new original timeline. The way this fic is everything to me, every chapter was an incredible experience, I fell in love with this fic at every chapter. So many beautiful scenes, written so beautifully, as I said this fic was 1 YEAR of my life. It was also a very difficult year, and I'm honestly so happy that this fic was there for that time of my life.

Desde el Principio by ShippingMyWorld - Nicktoons United fic

Okay idk If you saw me reblogging a bunch of Nicktoons fanart like two days ago, but just so you know I'm totally going into the rabbit hole of this fandom and I will be lost for a while. Now, this is a Danny Fenton/Manny Rivera fic, the tag has only two fics and both of them are from this writer.

I wish I had this commitment in my life, to just being THE ONLY one creating a specific content for something and still having the motivation of doing it

I read this fic last night, I finished it at 5 a.m. and I do not regret it at all, this was amazing

I actually recommend reading both fics because they are very good, I'm giving a shout out to this one because I think it's the one that made the biggest impact to me personally. ShippingMyWorld you did it, you converted me, I ship this now.

And that's the list, thank you so much to every fanfic writers that give us such amazing art everyday, you're the backbone of fandom!

#mortal kombat #lmk #tmnt #lego ninjago #nicktoons #always wanted to do a masterpost of fic recommendations and I finally did it #they're clearly more mk themed #because it's the only tag I've been browsing for a while #and if you see that all of them are tagged as johnshi no you didn't #it's not like I have the johnny cage/kenshi takahashi tag open 24/7 #fic rec

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thebibliosphere · 3 months

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Re-reading Ch28 of Phangs to double-check some details (just as well because I completely fucked up Vlad's room in the next book.) and not to toot my own horn or anything, but it's so fucking funny from an ADHD perspective.

Nathan just walked into a veritable treasure trove of Vlad's psyche.

He's walking around in awe, like, whoa, is that a hand-painted celestial map on the ceiling? Gods, Vlad's so talented. I bet there's nothing he can't do. Oh, a pianoforte! He's musical! Wow, look at all these books. He's so smart. I love how smart he is. I want to fuck his brains out. Oh! Look! A telescope!

As opposed to Vlad, whose internal monologue is: don't look at the mess, don't look at the mess, don't look at the mess. Okay, just act normal. How... how do I do that? Oh gods please don't think I'm weird. Please like me.

I know I wrote him, but he's in such a mood sometimes, lol.

#hunger pangs meta #I know they're my characters and I wrote them but #*chef kiss*#my poor AuDHD vampire son #just a cluster fuck of self-doubt and insecurity #hiding behind a mask of rakish flirtation that falls apart the minute someone sincere gets their hands on him #it's Nathan #Nathan gets his hands on him #eventually

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viewingthevoid · 5 months

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You know, if I don't think about how much the fandom is already mischaracterizing and vilifying her because of Deep Cover, I actually love how Kotoko is portrayed. She is the ultimate example of what Milgram as a prison represents. She unintentionally shows a lot of the hypocrisy in some of the voting. I mean, if beating up criminals was okay in Harrow, why would it be bad now? If Amane is one of the unforgivable murderers and is mature enough to understand what this verdict means, why should Kotoko treat her differently from the others? If we can choose the fate of the prisoners based on the little, vague information Milgram gives us, why can't she do the same? If we trust Milgram, why can't she?

And for Deep Cover specifically, if it's wrong for her to dehumanise, insult, and disregard the other prisoners, why is it okay that we do it to her?

I hope this doesn't come off as me excusing all she did, because it's not and she did a lot of fucked up things. I just really like how she's written as a foil to the prison itself and how that ties into the themes of Milgram. This idea that if we do something that was encouraged/told to us by this institution or authority, it's okay and excusable. But if an individual chooses to do something similar, they're evil and unredeemable.

#deep cover spoilers #milgram #kotoko yuzuriha #i don't know if anything i wrote made any sense i just have a lot of thoughts on deep cover and i want to get some of them out #most of said thoughts are ''please don't forget that these characters are morally gray and complex #they're not good but they're not cartoon villains''#my post

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qcomicsy · 29 days

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I have the controversial opinion that maybe, just maybe we stop wanting to go after people with pitchforks for getting characters wrong and not reading the comics inviting them to easy and accessible ways of and making our own content with comic accurate representation

people might feel less anxious about starting comics and misinformation won't spread as easily

#but that just me #I'm a batman fan for maybe all my life but just started seriously getting to the comics of half of the batfamily as an adult #let people take their time #some of them just got here #“THEYRE WRONG” you can block them #“THEY'RE GOING TO INFFECT THE CANNON JUST LIME THEY DID WITH TIM AND COFFEE” make accurate jokes then push people who make accurate jokes #interact with accurate jokes #make informative posts #if every time we feel the hit to beat up a comic inaccuracy post we make a funny little comic accuracy post maybe there won't be as much #disinformation peace and love on the planet earth.#never going to forget how much I shit on bad spideypool fanfics until I get to read some of my favorite writers old fanfics and they were #absolutely nothing like the characters #some people take time some people don't know where to start #some people don't have time to read the comics #some people don't have your favorite character whole backstory engraved #“THEY CAN RESEARCH” of course and fannon would be better if they did but have you consider....you have the power to make it better #i just think sometimes we can take the spite and make something beautiful #q rambles #i wrote the shit and forgot to finish LMAO

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laughingwith-bluelips · 9 months

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I finally got why I love so much the "dragons are gone" ending in the books while I hate it in the movies:

The books set the dragons free.

The movies simply sent them away.

That's basically the idea but I had a vision yesterday at 3am so I will be getting into detail below the cut.

The books have a very strong message about slavery. Some would say that it is a concept that is only important within the context of the last five or four books, but the ones that have been paying attention to the saga as a whole knows that there are things happening in the background. You know, stuff like

People eating dragons

People stealing dragons from their families so

The dragons can serve the vikings

And they're expected to obey because

People threaten to turn them into bags.

That's mostly the first book.

Dragons are constantly showed as unsatisfied with the status quo trough out the books, some more annoyed with the vikings than others. We have complete monologues from different dragons before the war is even a possibility. Sincerely, when it happens, it feels natural.

The idea of freeing the dragons is not one that comes up in the last book, not even close. The first time it is considered an option is in book 9 (I think), and, by the time being, we've already stablish lots of concepts as slavery within human beings, the dangers of a war, how this could lead to the end of all and freeing the dragons is the only option.

It is fatalist to say the least, but it's not going out of nowhere. There is a lot of worldbuilding (more on that later), but it is also the right thing to do. By the time Hiccup is presenting the option, Cowell has made us root for the dragons to be free and wild and do whatever they want, even if what they want is to hide under sea for thousands of years. Or if they don't want, or if the want to but just not in that moment, they can do it.

Oh, yes, because they leave GRADUALLY.

It is a sad ending, but still manages to get as satisfactory because, yet again, we know this happens and the books remind us this will happen eventually every time they can. “There were dragons when I was a boy” is literally the first phrase in the saga.

And then we got the movies.

The movies never followed the books. Like, not very much. The writers decided that they wanted to tell a story of a broken relationship between a father and a son while using dragons, the heroic and prophetic aspects of the books were getting on the way of that and they scrapped the idea. So, no, you can't tell me the movies actually follow the books.

However, if you're very technical, you know the Hiccup we see in the movies resembles Hiccup I, the one that stopped the war between vikings and dragons in the books, stablishing an equal relation between the two races. And this idea of the movies being a prequel can work for the second and specially the first movie, disregarding the fact that there are no prophetic or magical elements at all.

But THW exist and... Exist.

Suddenly the writers and producers decide that they want to follow the books and want to get rid of the dragons, something that is completely against the message of the other two movies.

(I am just talking about the movies, the shows-books relationship is very different and I will someday make a post ranting about it)

The movies do NOT talk about the dangers of dragons being with vikings or how the vikings mistreat the dragons or how bad is slavery or anything like that. The second movie does, yes, but the second movie also sends a message about how people benefit of being with dragons. They have their dragons and they're strong because of that friendship. Being at war with one another only brings loss and suffering for both bands while being together promises an actual future. A bright future that no one imagined before the first movie and that now they cling to.

Dragons and vikings are friends and together cand do basically anything.

That's a very strong message, you know?

And you know what? The third movie decided that such a strong and important message about friendship should leave the franchise completely.

“Free the dragons” it's a concept that doesn't fit with the movies. They're not slaved, they're not away from wildness and, most importantly, they CHOOSE to be with the vikings in the first place. They are already equals, they can do what they want and, you know, they are with the vikings because they want to.

But no, let's do a movie about letting friends go as if it could actually fit in the saga.

(I know it could actually fit but the execution was terrible).

As I said before, the movies resembles Hiccup I befriending dragons and we know how it ends. And someone who has never read the books will go and say "well, it was bound to end that way, why are you mad?” I tell you the difference right now: there's 1000 years of difference between the befriending and the parting in the book, 1000 years in wich we witness the deterioration of said friendship (from being friends and equals to being slaves). That's no what happens in the movies. The films give us 6 years and the only deterioration is within Toothless' character and how they made him a horny dog.

The dragons shouldn't have leave. This was a whim from the writers that thought that ending both stories the same way would be cool. It isn't. At all.

Long story short, it doesn't fit thematically. The movies and the books have different themes with different concepts and different characterizations of the dragons. While the books got story building and present the theme's since the beginning, the movies get it out of no where ignoring the themes in previous works.

Anyways, go read the books they're jewels and the ending isn't as shitty as thw make it look

#httyd #how to train your dragon #httyd 2 #httyd the hidden world #httyd book #httyd books #im angry about the ending #probably because I'm watching rtte and i llve the relationship wuth the dragons #and the characters themselves #freeing the dragons is an actual theme in rtte but not in the movies #that's sad #also i don't think the shows follow better the books but #they actually use themes from them #english is not my first language #sorry if i wrote anything wrong #i love the films #i know it sounds as if i hate them but i don't #they're basically my favourite movies of all time

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yardsards · 7 months

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a thing i enjoy: putting characters that aren't even aro (like not even in a headcanon way) in a qpr. because some allo people irl can be happy in qprs too. bc qprs aren't just an offbrand replacement for romance, created just for ppl who can't have "the real thing" to settle for

#eliot posts #i just remembered one of my old fics #which is about two characters getting into a qpr #(though they're both pretty young and i don't think spend much time online so they don't quite know The Word For It yet)#and while i actually don't have any solid headcanons for either of them i decided to make one be bi for that one #and he talked about how he's had crushes before and doesn't have a crush on that other character #but wants to spend the rest of his life with them nonetheless #very based of past me #also reading back on this fic wow i REALLY chanelled a lot of my teenaged self's feelings into it #tho i wasn't in a qpr it's like. i put a lot of my aro fears and feelings about my friends into the dialogue #i wrote the fic just like a year ago but had forgotten a lot of it and was pleasantly surprised rereading it

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essektheylyss · 2 years

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no more "fix-it fics". enough "everybody lives au". everybody DIES au. I could make it (canon) WORSE.

#this joke brought to you hilariously not by recent events but in fact rediscovering my old ffn fics from high school #they exist and are easily findable lol #and boyyyy have i not only really not change. but i have MELLOWED on the angst.#if you think my fics are rough now...#literally wrote MULTIPLE fics for a romance-oriented procedural where one or both of the leads died and someone else had to deal with that #hilarious. like. this was 'i know they're gonna get out of this tight spot canon left them in last episode. but what if they didn't. :3'#like say what you will about some of my sadder content but the characters aren't getting MURDERED #also went out of my way to write the cockblock rival LI sympathetically in one scenario #like this character was universally reviled. MEANT TO BE in fact. and several comments were just 'icb you made him impossible to hate'#me at all times: have you considered. this character is not evil. just trying their best and not favored by the narrative but like. fine.#and also do you want to talk about GRIEF?#would love to study my high school self like a bug. who was she. fuck if i remember lmfao #ANYWAY this is genuinely so funny #also damn ffn reviewers were brutal about update times lol #also were not shy about 'WOW this is so ooc' (they were wrong. to be clear. they were mad about a ship thing)#the writing was 'eh' but the specific aspect of the characterization they were mad about was not lol #but also uwu over some of the comments i was looking through last night #some of them were like 'wow someone said this about tiefling fic last week!'

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angeltism · 4 days

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"spar.kle is fictional who cares" I have seen people praising her for her racist anti-romani comments what the fuck kind of world do you live in

#➳ the fool speaks #fuuuck man i don't think fiction and reality will influence each other 1=1 but characters being weirdos or bigots and it not being #criticized for it makes those kinds of people who Very Much Already Exist IRL think they're in the fucking right. they aren't.#i don't think someone getting spar.kle in hsr is going to turn them into a fucking racist but her being Like That and looking cute #and being playable and not getting called the fuck out in game makes people who ARE racists have a cutesy girl to idolize and support and #use as a way to say shit without getting in trouble because ''ermmm I'm not the one who wrote her!! i just think she's really funny!! she's #not real anyways why are you mad!!''#like my god shut UP #again like. pulling for her or thinking she's cute doesn't mean you want all roma dead. that. that isn't how that works #but if you think of hoyo's writing of her is good and funny and not problematic at all I'd LOVE to know what you think about #how real life roma r treated to this day. like genuinely let's have a little chat. I'm sure you have normal not-racist opinions #and do not use the g slur and do not defend it and tootally don't view roma just as all the bad stereotypes right !!!!#*ok actually pulling for her kinda. shows support to hoyo for whatever weird ass decision someone on their team made #to go ''ah yes let's add racism but make it a cute girl and make it 'funny' this'll get us so much money''#and if you spent on her banner. look idk what to say. shame? yeah shame. hoyo in general is not a company that deserves your money there #are better things to spend your cash on. like literally look at how they treated sum.eru and they made the guy inspired by roma WHITE ???#generally. not something I would advise spending on. but like ok especially on the racist character y'know #anyways.

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sistersorrow · 9 days

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I lack any viable means to be tested for autism, but I get the distinct feeling that whatever result I'd get from it, I'd be disappointed, and I'm not sure why

#enough people both on and offline have made comments about the way I act that theI'm left wondering if they're on to somehthing #same for ADHD #people keep comparing me to canonically autistic characters #someone told me my comments read like a vulcan wrote them #I still don't know what that means

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tracle0 · 11 months

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The patient was lying on the operating table when the door slid open.

They didn’t have to be there - the room had more in it than it did a week ago, a comfortable enough chair, a plush little love seat to relax in, a desk to work at. Their wrists weren’t strapped down anymore, nothing new pumping into their veins. They were free to roam around the room and let the oncoming process take place. And yet still, they chose to lay on the table and stare at the ceiling blankly.

At least they glanced over when she entered, attention caught by the sound of her footsteps, not the door opening and closing. They had stopped trying to escape months ago. Thank fucking god for that.

“Unscheduled,” they told her. They had become more monosyllabic as the weeks had gone on. Sometimes, it was a struggle to know what they were trying to say.

This time is easy enough. “I don’t follow the schedule that strictly,” she said briskly. “I can visit whenever I want.”

Their eyebrows rose at the first comment, noting the blatant lie, but they let it pass, eyes drifting back to the ceiling again. Even their arms were spread out, wrists resting exactly where the leather straps would usually be. “Why?”

“I work here, sweetie. I thought you knew that by now.” It would be a concern if not. Some of the others had deteriorating memories at this point in the process, and she was so sick of failed tests.

A head shake. “Why here?” The second word seems to strain them. “Why me?”

Ah. At least their mind was still somewhat present. Brushing down the front of her off-white lab coat, she gave herself a moment to think. The facility had tried to keep each patient isolated, although a lot of them had figured out there were others on account of the screams. This patient was amongst them, having asked her a few months ago how many others there were. Fifty, she had told them, and they had nodded, taken her word as the truth and shut their eyes to listen, trance-like, to the screams down the hall.

The number was much, much lower than fifty now, having dropped lower still a few minutes ago. She was on the brink of failure, bankruptcy, months of agony and wasted resources for nothing. Maybe she was somewhat desperate to keep the final few functioning, progressing. Alive. More willing to spend time around them and their misery, pity, refusal to acknowledge the common good she was working towards.

She couldn’t tell them that, though. With how frail they looked, they may well die on the spot at the news, half from shock, half to spite her. “Figured you could use some company,” she said instead. “How are you feeling?“

They gave her a blank look, the kind that perfectly said, how the bloody hell do you think I’m doing? Then returned their attention to the ceiling. Silence lingered. The overhead lights hummed. Someone hurried past their room. “Tired,” they eventually murmured. “I’m tired.”

“That’s to be expected. You’ve been through a lot.” She gave them her best smile, her politicians smile, and smoothed a clump of brown hair off their forehead. It was something she had done to a lot of foreheads when hands had been strapped down, resistance impossible. Why was she doing it now? Because they were on the table, laid out as if expecting the chemicals to start flowing, the screams to start ripping their throat?

She withdrew before either of them could comprehend it, and their eyes watched her carefully for a uncharacteristically long ten seconds, before their attention drifted again. Their skin felt feverish, dry. It was not a good sign. Keep them lucid, keep them alert. “Is there anything I can get you?”

What may have once been a smile drifted across their face. “Out.”

It was a joke for both of them at this point, so she laughed, and their almost-smile nearly became a full smile, before the effort became too much to maintain. “I’ll ask the boss,” she promised, a joke for her to privately enjoy. “Anything else?”

“News,” they said vaguely.

“On what?”

“Kit.”

Always the same. Maybe that was why she liked them more than most. Their interactions were predictable, repetitive. If they did die, she might not even notice, repeating her half of the script to their unresponsive corpse. “Not much,” she said sombrely, as if she’d checked. “Rumour has it he’s got a new orange now.”

Their eyes shut, brows drawing together, mouth pressed thin. This wasn’t part of their routine. It took her a moment to recognise grief. What was the problem? What had she said? Why was news of another orange so significant?

Right. Of course. They had been an orange once, his orange, trusted sidekick and adoring supporter. This tidbit of nothing went a lot deeper than she expected, and she hesitated, unsure if she should keep digging. On one hand, she thought they had given up on their brother weeks ago, when their patience had run out, when they had accepted he wasn’t going to save them, when their magic and use to him had been stripped from their veins. It was annoying that there had still been a part of them clinging to hope, expecting something from Kit.

On the other hand, she could plainly see that part of them wither and die with this news. She gave them a moment, hands clasped behind her back, then continued. “He’s declared you dead,” she said, her voice soft, delicate. “Says he held you in his arms as you bled out.”

“Course,” they said. She was glad to hear bitterness in their voice, hoarse as it was.

“Rumour has it he’s one of the most powerful on the streets now,” she added, watching their face carefully. This was a lot more than she had planned to tell them, much more truthful than her reports usually were, but it was having some kind of effect, a reaction. Better than most other discussions she had with patients, weepy and aching affairs that left her heavy and frustrated. “He keeps targeting other turfs. He’s gained a lot of ground, I hear.”

It was easy to see how they interpreted the news by how their eyes screwed tighter, brows knitting closer together, going from grief to agitation. Petty in-fighting, domination of the city - it was a slap in the face for someone who had been waiting for rescue. Now they knew their master plan, the thing they had bet their life on, had half worked. Kit was stuffed with potential, a frighteningly powerful mage. He just hadn’t bothered coming back for them.

She expected tears, pleading, defeat. Their words were delightfully measured when they asked, “Orange?”

“Someone from out of town,” she reported. Jaque was the exact town, but they didn’t need to know that. They didn’t need to know a lot of things. “Goes by Clem. Most people say they’re just a source of the colour, that Kit does most of the controlling.”

They hummed an acknowledgement, opened their eyes again, stared at the ceiling. “Lots,” they eventually said.

Although it was as dull as usual, it sounded sarcastic to her ears, like they were mocking her. Nothing infuriated her more than being mocked. She hoped the flush across her cheeks wasn’t obvious. “I don’t know lots about them, no. They’re new to the scene. I have other things to do than gather news on your brother, you know.”

Eyes glanced across her face. “No,” they said. “News.”

“No news,” she echoed.

“Lots,” they insisted. “You.”

“You’re not making any sense, my darling.”

They almost snarled, nose wrinkled, a spark of anger in their eyes. Slowly, carefully, visually, they gathered energy, going pale with the effort, eventually managing to croak, “You have lots of news today.”

A full sentence was impressive at this stage. Hell, single words were impressive - a significant portion of participants had gone entirely mute a week ago. Maybe she was right to put more energy into her remaining patients. “A special treat.”

Another hum. They didn’t seem to care. Their eyes were still open, brown still fixed on the ceiling, but they had started to lose focus, drift from active attention to a freakish half-sleep. Clearly the full sentence had drained them of what little energy they were using to stay awake. She almost felt guilty for it.

More than the guilt was the alarm. The half-sleep that too many participants had adopted was too similar to the stiff clutches of death. Too often, she had held a hand, tried to coax someone into fighting a little longer, felt the exact second their fingers went limp and the odds of her failure went up. A few times, during her scheduled rounds, she had noticed still bodies curled up somewhere, glazed over and perfectly static, and struggled to tell if they were sleeping or dead. More and more often, it was the latter.

This participant was just like any other. Nothing special, beyond the circumstances around how they had arrived. She still didn’t want to watch them die. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Glazed eyes flicked to focus on her. This was not part of their script either. At this point, she’d wish them well, promise to be back later, and leave them be. Still, they considered the question. “Chair,” they finally said.

“You want to go to the chair?” At the tiny nod, she sucked at her teeth, considered the distance. “I’ll get some guards to -“

“No.”

“No? How do you expect to get to the chair?“

“Walk.”

She laughed at that. She couldn’t help herself. “Love, you’re not going to be able to walk to the chair. It’s five meters away. Be sensible, now.”

“Walk,” they insisted. “I can.”

“You think I’ll let you try? Have you killed, too?”

A pause. Consideration. Then, quietly, “Too?”

Shit. Their eyes were fixed on her, watching her reaction, reading the truth in the millisecond of hesitation. Where had that unfocused glaze gone? She licked her lips with the very tip of her tongue, careful to only gloss over her lipstick, arranged an excuse. “Only a few. It’s to be expected, this isn’t -“

“How many?”

It would have been so easy to lie. Maybe they were sharper than the average participant, but she still controlled the flow of information they received. She could make them believe anything if she put proper work into it, including the mortality rate of this trial.

Looking down at them, positioned as if ready to receive further torture, attention fixed on her and hungry for a tidbit of truth, she couldn’t find it in herself to deceive them. “There’s five left,” she said quietly. “Including you.”

They breathed out at that, an audible exhale. “Start?”

“We started with ninety.”

“Fifty?” She shrugged in way of explanation, and they nodded, as if they expected it, understood it. So practical, so uniform. God, she did like them. “Me?”

Another hesitation. They noticed it. “We’re doing everything we can to keep you alive,” she eventually said, words careful and picked over. “All of you. So, with luck, you should have nothing to worry about.”

“Luck,” they sneered. She could understand their bitterness, given their situation. She also admired their bitterness. So many of the others simply became empty, exhausted. Their anger was a breath of fresh air sometimes.

Other times, it expressed itself in stubborn tendencies. “Chair.”

“I’m not going to let you kill yourself,” she said tiredly.

“Chair.”

“It’s not just your life you’d be wasting. I’m sure you’re used to that, but I can’t afford to allow -“

They barked a laugh, surprisingly loud.“Bitch,” they spat, with great amusement. “I want…”

The rest of their sentence trailed off as they panted for breath, exhausted, determined. She glared venom down at them. They glared venom right back, triumphant and proud. Did she even like them? It seemed to change day-by-day, word-by-word. “Go on, then,” she said, sickly sweet. “Walk to your crummy chair. See how that goes for you.”

To their credit, they hesitated. Maybe they’d buckle, realise she was right, do as she said. It wasn’t too late to forgive them, find the guards, get them to their chair like they wanted. If they apologised, perhaps. Grovelled, definitely. The relationship between them was entirely up to them to decide.

They decided, and strained to move, and she sighed inwardly and settled in to watch them die. The effort of sitting up would be enough to knock them out. Actually walking to the chair would absolutely kill them. If they were lucky, maybe their corpse would land on the plump cushion. The detached part of her that she listened to quite frequently these days was interested in how long it would take for them to give up.

Because they were laying on their back, the process was agonisingly slow. Lacking the immediate strength to simply pull themselves upright, they instead opted to use their arms to hoist up, inch by inch, leaning heavily on their elbows as they gasped for breath. Teeth gritted, limbs shaking, strain intense. She wondered if they’d burn the body today, or leave it for dissection. She wondered if she should send the remains to Kit.

She wondered how in any possible hell her patient had managed to actually get themselves upright.

Conscious and panting, they didn’t have the energy to act smug. They barely had the energy to stay sitting, skin bone white and fingers holding so tightly to the edge of the table that she could see the outline of every single one of their knuckles. As she watched, their head tilted down, chin almost touching their chest, as if the weight of holding it up was too much… before it jerked, jolting up too far, having to settle in place. A visual demonstration of their bodies demands verses their willpower.

It was fascinating to watch. “Well, aren’t you just full of surprises?”

Their eyes latched onto her. Glassy, unfocused, dull. Their chest was heaving with the effort of breathing. Even single words would be near impossible now.

“You’re not going to make it to the chair,” she said, lecture-like. “I’m impressed you got this far, but you need to recognise your limits. You won’t be useful to me if you can’t.”

Something flickered in their eyes, a spark of life in an otherwise empty void. Their jaw tightened.

“I can have you carried to the chair still,” she offered, hands spread in front of her. “You only need to ask. I’ll even take a nod. Just let me know.”

Their head had dipped, exhaustion getting the best of them. She tried not to be disappointed.

“Let’s get you settled down again,” she said gently, moving closer. “Come on, now. You’re tired. Let’s just -“

They lurched suddenly, tipping forwards, and her words cut off as she darted forwards to catch them. At first, she assumed they had reached their limit, passed out. If they hit the floor, the hard tiles would easily shatter their fragile skull. God knows she couldn’t lose someone with the energy to sit up, the fight to resist her better judgement.

It was only when she was holding them up that she realised they were still awake. The lurch hadn’t been the body’s success - they had pushed themselves forwards, the intent to stand, to walk, spurring them onwards.

They seemed surprised to find her in front of them. Most of their weight pressed on her shoulders. They may have been frail, thinned down by the agonies they had endured, but she wasn’t very big herself, and she nearly crumpled under the burden. “Fucking hell,” she snarled. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Or just trying to piss me off?”

A hand rose, slow and gradual. There was no way they were still lucid after all this. She’d be lucky if they woke again after she finally settled them down. Given how feverish their skin felt, it was only a matter of time before this test failed too. Really, she’d wasted too much time in here.

“Maybe your brother was right to leave you,” she spat at them, as they focused their energy on raising their hand up, up, up. “Knew what sort of a fucking problem you are. Be glad I don’t have you put down, you useless piece of…”

Her words trailed off as their hand finally stopped, gently caressing her face. With careful deliberation, they traced a finger down her temple, down her cheek, down her jaw, letting their thumb rest against her chin, and tilting that up. Given how they had fallen, how they had been caught, the two of them were very close, nearly pressed together; their chest against her shoulders, her eyes level with their chin. Her eyes raised up to meet theirs.

They pressed their lips to hers. Slow and gentle, although not by choice, they kissed her, and she stood there, holding them upright. In the shock of the moment, she let the cold, mechanical part of her head take over, figure this out.

More than anything, it was wondering how she could use this. With five participants left, she had the room to be more personal with each of them, and if this was how they wanted to go about it, well. A quiet romance could be nice, and could keep them obedient, loyal. On the increasingly unlikely chance they survived this, maybe she could keep them around for a bit, if they chained their own heart for her. Until she got bored of them. Until they had ran out of use.

The kiss ended, and they drew back shyly; a school child pecking their crushes cheek for the first time. With as much desperation as they could muster, they searched her gaze, looking for permission or allowance or reciprocation. Apparently not finding it, they started to sag against the table, swallowed, parted their dry lips. “Sorry,” they whispered.

For a millisecond, she considered her options. Leave them to this obvious mistake and add the burden of embarrassment to their situation. Allow what had happened to be a one-off, let them both move past this and forget it had happened. Or reciprocate - give them a reason to fight on, to survive, a reason to stay at her side even after the matter.

They were speaking, for fucks sake. Standing on their own feet after forcing themselves upright and speaking in full sentences. If anyone was going to survive this, it was going to be Elan fucking Soot.

She threaded her fingers through their hair, pulled them closer and pressed her lips to theirs. Much faster. Much more forceful. By the time she was satisfied, they were breathing hard, and her lipstick was pressed over their mouth.

Without her saying anything, they went to wipe it off, dazed. Not the blank-eyed dazed expression she was so used to. Something bright, alive. Something that shouldn’t be in this facility.

A red stain transferred to the back of their hand, and they wrinkled their nose at it, an unimpressed grunt making its way up their throat. “Bright,” they said, irked. “Ugh.”

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to kiss me,” she said, halfway between flirting and icy.

They smiled, let their arm swing to their side, tilted back, much more weight against their bed. “Thank you.”

“You owe me, lovie.” She let a finger trace along their jawline, let the mechanical voice consider it. There were definitely worse faces to kiss. This could end up being incredibly beneficial to her.

A softer part of her, the part that had made her heart flutter and her face flush, pointed out it could also be beneficial for them. That maybe they had their own mechanical voice, weighing up their options and choosing the best route. That maybe, just maybe, she should be a little bit careful.

Then, they swayed on their feet, let out a long sigh, and nodded. “Guards,” they suggested, a voice like a leafs skeleton. “Now.”

She complied, calling loudly and apparently a little frantically - the guards rushed in with their hands on their batons, ready for trouble, finding instead their employer with a participant collapsed on her shoulder. To their credit, they wasted very little time in sorting the situation out, easing her patient back onto the surgery table, limp limbs arranged as kindly as possible, and ushering her out of the room.

If the guards noticed her lipstick on their lips, neither of them mentioned it.

#colour wip #writing #my writing #original writing #spilled ink #writerblr #writblr #writingblr #fiction #short story #god I really don't know tags #uh hi! Hello! I'm back again! I was gone for about a month and a half. Offline. Trekking the globe seeing more of Europe and all that #alas now I am at my desk again #the allure of being online is Less. I'll probably come back. But for now. Enjoy this?#it's. A lil short story for a lil idea I have that I want to pursue at some point #who knows when #(it's in the running for nano this year)#these are! The two antagonists! They both have names now which is great because when I wrote this piece they didn't #the woman is Bernadette and the other fella is Elan. Elan is named. Good for them #They're perhaps the first instance of me making two characters and before even writing them going 'hey I think they should be romantic'#'but also like. REALLY fucked up romantics'#gestures at this #it's also! The first kiss I've written since I was like. 16! And the first one I've been !!!!! over writing so that's coo #l #ok that's all from me I'm gonna go. Hang out on my bed I think #thanks for reading love you!#trade-marked

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