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chaosduckies · 8 months ago

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Friends In Small Places (Chapter 1)

The size shifter story is finally here! This is more of a slightly sad piece, even though this first chapter isn’t really all that gloomy and monochrome, I actually have this entire plot line planned out and everything, and whew is the ending going to be something.

But I hope you enjoy! (this chapter is mainly just for introductions so I’m sorry if there really isn’t anything interesting TwT)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: Depression, major anxiety, slight gore warning? (Though nothing actually happens)

1-Liam

Today the main hall was bustling with people crowding the board that had all of the activities and clubs posted on. Most of the time people didn’t care all too much about it, only the people who were actually in those clubs, but today was different for some reason. Fitting in between the seemingly hundreds of people, I saw what the commotion was all about. The psychology classes were all being called to a meeting at four. Which was when most classes ended, but still. It’s rare that this school ever calls meetings. It just so happens that I was taking psychology though.

I sighed, moving back on the free sidewalk get to the library. A friend was waiting for me to help her study for a test she had in just a few hours. I thought I might as well help seeing that I’ve already taken the course. I used to think that college was extremely strict from how my old high school teachers described it, but in reality it’s not that hard when you just take the time to study and take a few practice tests the day before one. It was just two-and-a-half years before I major in psychology and become a therapist. Well, that was my dream anyways. In this world, it was a lot harder given that most therapists get assigned to a size shifter. That was something I didn’t want to do. Well, maybe if it was one who could only shrink, but that’s maybe it. It freaks me out knowing that there are some shifters who could be as tall as a small skyscraper, and some even bigger. A shiver ran down my spine even thinking about it. But that won’t happen.

Among the few people sitting at the quiet tables lines with pencils, a few pieces of notebook paper, and a lamp that barely even worked, there was a girl waving her arms around aimlessly trying to gain my attention. I laughed softly before walking and sitting down next to her. It seemed she had been here for hours with how she kept her space. Papers spewed all across with scribbled down notes that was barely even legible, colored pens in a mixed mess with her other writing supplies. It made you wonder how she had even made it to college.

“I see you’ve been hard at work, Rhya.” I set my slightly heavy bag down and started attempting to clean up the vast sums of paper all over the desk and try to keep her notes in order.

“Yeah well, not everyone can be all neat and tidy as you are.” She lightly elbowed me before grabbing the stack of papers in my hand and shoving them in a folder. I guess she was going to re-do them after all. Either that or she didn’t need them. Despite this being primarily a nursing and health school, Rhya was in the art department. Of course she had to take the core classes along with her own elective, but she plans on becoming a graphic designer.

“It’s not my fault I know how to study and you don’t.” I joked around, watching her pull out her computer and grab a few empty pages on notebook paper and her calculus book.

“And it’s not my fault you don’t know how to have any fun.” She stuck her tongue out playfully before pulling up a practice test.

“Hey I know how to have fun, just not when I know I have better things to worry about.” She solved the first problem right, pumping her fist up in the air as she wrote down the question and highlighted everything she needed to do. I’m also guessing she planned to study whatever notes she was making.

“I guess you have a point. How’s that psychology major coming along?” She had asked, writing down the problem and attempting to solve it. I sighed, pointing to the number she was missing, “You square root that,” Rhya groaned, “It’s going good. We have some kind of weird meeting later today though.”

“Oh? Do you know what about?” Rhya asked, but I could tell she was hiding something from me. She knew something.

“No. Do you?” I skeptically looked at her, earning a side eye right back as she had paused her writing for a moment.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” She grumbled, I shook my head, a slight smile forming on my face. She knew I would win this argument.

“Okay well, this might not be true, but I heard that a few psychology students were chosen to have a training. Like, the real deal kind of thing. Size shifter and all. That the ones chosen were supposed to act like one of those special therapists.” My heart nearly skipped a beat at the news. Where did she even hear this from in the first place? There’s no way that’s even real.

“You’re kidding, right?” I laughed nervously. Even if it was true, I doubt they’d choose a sophomore. I’ve only really had a few practices and I still have a couple more years until I become the real deal.

“Would I lie to you?” She turned to me, a worried look on her face. Did she think I would have to go through with that? I sincerely doubt it. There was no way they’d put me on whatever list they have going on. Maybe my upperclassman though. They could choose Chelsey, she was really good with everyone and a senior. They’d most likely choose her. Maybe even Ryan since he was really experienced. Actually, he was a size shifter himself, but he’s so good at controlling his emotions that he doesn’t even need to worry about accidentally shooting up a couple feet.

“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I doubt they choose someone with barely any experience. Don't’ worry about it.” I smiled, pointing back to Rhya’s computer to tell her that she needed to get to studying and stop worrying about me. Seriously, she really needed to study otherwise she was going to fail. I can almost guarantee that she’ll be crying to me later when she fails her test. Not my fault she doesn’t study.

——————

The gym was a large space, but our entire class only took up one tiny portion of the bleacher space as our instructor and several other people dressed up in fancy suits were talking on the ground. I sat next to Ryan, who was playing with the green-colored band on his wrist, showing that he was in one of the five classes of size shifters. Purple represented that they could shrink down to an inch or maybe even smaller if their emotions had the better of them. Blue represented that they could shrink too, but not as much as the one’s with a purple wrist. Green represented that they could both shrink and grow, but only to a certain height. Yellow meant that the shifter could grow to be the size of about a small building, or maybe even a little more depending on how they’re feeling. Red was by far the worst one. To me at least. The shifter’s with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Which was why all shifters with a red band were all forced to be with a specialized therapist for only them. Because if they lose control of their emotions, it could end pretty badly.

“I’m glad you all saw the announcement on the board. I’m a little surprised really.” Mr. Smith shoved his hands in his front pant pockets, taking a look at all of us before his eyes laid on me, smiling warmly. Why? Something was up.

“These two gentlemen here are the head of the SSU. Also known as the company that helps size shifters in need. Recently, there has been a shortage of individuals that are willing to work with shifters in helping them control themselves. These two are on the look for candidates-in-training to help fill those missing spots.”

The two men in suits walked to the front, holding out a clipboard. Those had whoever was going to be picked for this. But why this school? There was another college not too far from here. They could choose from them. Unless they were, and the “tiny” shortage was actually a big one. Or… no. They wouldn’t do that, right? It’s the SSU, they’ve literally helped the world become safer for decades. They wouldn’t be doing an experiment, would they?

“It’s wonderful to see all sixty-two of you young scholars gathered here today. As your professor already said, we are both from the head office at SSU looking for the best of the best to fill in those empty spots, regardless if you do or don’t have any experience.” That last part made a shiver run down my spine. Ryan turned his head to me, patting me on the back. There was no way they’d choose a nobody like me. No way in hell.

“This list contains twenty of you who will be taking part in this. You will be in charge of taking care of your designated partner until we can find a professional replacement suited well enough to take over. If I call your name, please stay behind after we dismiss everyone.” The tall man smiled, looking down at the clipboard and calling several names. The anxiety pricked my skin like icicle shards, it had almost seemed like the man reading off names was speaking in slow motion. A few deep breaths, and it was back to normal.

“Ryan Wright.” He smiled while earning several compliments and congratulations from his fellow classmates.

“Chelsey Torres.” She giggled a few seats away from us.

“And Liam Rover.”

My muscles tensed up at the mention of my name. I couldn’t tell if my heart had stopped or if it was just beating horrifyingly fast. I could tell people were trying to praise me, but I couldn’t hear, their appraisal only reaching my ears in a muffled and slow manner. I managed the most sincere smile I could while trying to hide how much I was trembling. Maybe this would be okay? Maybe I’ll be lucky and not be paired up with a shifter who could potentially crush me between two if their fingers if they really wished to. Was the room cold or was it just me?

“Everyone else may head to their dorms. Thank you for coming.”

After everyone had filed out of the empty gym, the other shorter man dressed in an identical suit as the taller one started calling out our names all over again, handing them a red folder with presumedly the shifter we’ll be assigned. Was this how it was when you’re actually a professional? You just get assigned to one? You don’t get to know them or anything?

Once I was handed my folder, I dreaded every single second of opening it. Please let it be easy, please let it be easy, please let it be eas-

Oh.

It was only a picture of who we were partnered up with and anything that might be worth mentioning about them. Wow was I overreacting. Then again, that didn’t exactly smoothen out the anxiety that was still pricking at my skin. Though, this shifter didn’t seem so bad. If anything, he actually looked pretty nice. The only thing I had noticed was that he was diagnosed with depression. He kind of looked like it too if I were being honest. It seemed hard for him to smile for the picture. Why did I also get the hint that he wasn’t feeling very good either? I guess I’ll find out when we officially meet.

“Inside you’ll find who your partner will be for the foreseeable future. You’ll still be coming to your classes, which was why we mainly wanted to stick with the upperclassmen, and afterward go back to where we are currently housing your designated shifter. You have three days to pack everything you need and want, and you’ll soon be living off campus. Just think of it was having a roommate that needs constant supervision.”

Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I’m almost entirely confident that this shifter won’t really be a big deal. I mean, he looks about a year or two younger than me. So he just graduated high school? Agh, I have no idea. I’m just jumping to conclusions. But, hopefully they won’t make me handle anything crazy. That I can’t do.

——————

They were driving me across the city to go meet up with the shifter I’ll be taking care of for however long. For all I know it could be a few days or weeks. I would think someone would want to step up for the job instead of letting students do this, but I guess not. Chelsey and Ryan have texted me a few times that they were getting settled in already while I was still heading over. It was already around thirty minutes just to get across the place, so that means I’ll have to take a bus almost everyday just to make it to my classes. That’s just great, but I’m in no position to complain. I actually tried talking with Professor Smith about it, but he told me that he had no say in the matter at all, which was weird. I doubt he would want his younger students to even take part in this.

Along the streets were the many, many buildings that both accommodated for humans and their much larger or smaller companions. Although I’ve only ever been around Ryan about twice when he’s giant, it really wasn’t that bad. He can only grow till someone was like the height if his entire hand so it really wasn’t even that bad. Of course it’s still nerve-racking, but I trust him. Plus, we were at a small party with our little friend group. I doubt he could even bring himself to hurt someone. So really I wasn’t too worried. The only other shifter I’ve been around is an old high school friend of mine, but she goes to a different college now.

Hundred of houses passed by us as we drove into a little neighborhood. What really made me worried was that the driver wasn’t exactly stopping at the normal-sized houses. Where was he going? I watched grimly as some of the huge houses we passed by came to a halt to one on the very end of one of the many streets. This one wasn’t as big as the other one’s down the street, but it wasn’t exactly small either. At least to me. So… I was paired up with a shifter who could only grow. That’s great. Just… great.

I grabbed my bag and the small suitcase I had brought with me that was just full of my clothes and some stuff for school. Well if I’m supposed to stay here almost all of the time now I have to find something to keep me busy. And apparently from the immense size difference that will be between my new roommate and I. Of course I was terrified! If he really is diagnosed with depression and was a shifter who grew that only made matters worse for me. I hope whoever plans to take over for me does it soon.

It took me and the driver to reach the doorstep, but eventually the driver gave it a knock. I swear I could hear some mumbling coming from the other side, but I didn’t dwell too much on that. Most.y because the extremely large door started to open slowly, but I saw no one on the other side. Maybe he was shy?

“Well I may take my leave, though I have been ordered to tell you that a bus comes in the morning at around 6 just down the street from here, and another will take you back here around 5 and 8. Also, if anything goes wrong, to call this number on your phone.” He handed me a folded slip of paper, then took his leave. I shoved the slip in my pocket, hesitantly taking a few steps into the huge house.

It was neatly cleaned around the place, though I couldn’t really see from my view on the ground. Everything around me was huge. I mean I’ve been to one of the rooms on the bigger side of the campus, but those rooms were smaller. It’s not an entire house filled with furniture.

As I took a few steps out more, I jumped when the door had lightly closed behind me. My eyes trailed up and up, finding the face of the person I had seen in the picture. His eyes grew wide when I met his gaze, then bit the bottom of his lip before sliding his back against the wall behind him.

Everything in my body told me to run, but if I did then I would only get scolded for it later. This isn’t even what I wanted to be! I wanted to be a normal therapist that helps regular adults and kids feel better. Not a human who could easily trap me in a fist and just kill me. I would have been fine if they could only shrink, but this was much worse.

I faced down, taking a few deep breaths that barely even help me in this situation. I had to take care of someone fifty times my own size? How was that even possible? There weren’t even any smaller sized things around this place. Nothing that could help me get around easier either!

I guess I could attempt to get his name. I mean, nothing could go wrong then, right? Just maybe from a distance… even if he could, at any point in time, just grab me whenever he so wanted. I felt sick just thinking about being held. Wouldn’t I have to be though? I can’t exactly just climb everywhere I want to go.

“H-hi. Um, I’m Liam.” I forced myself to walk closer, even under his gaze, but I stopped walking closer when he moved himself further in the corner, looking a bit saddened. He probably knew I was scared. Maybe. I hope I’m some-what hiding it well enough. Though, I’ve never really been that good at it.

“Oh, um, C-Casper. You can call me Cas if you want.” He kept his voice to a very quiet whisper. So he knew that if he talked too loud it would hurt my ears. At least he’s self-aware. Though, I couldn’t help but feel bad. I may be utterly terrified of him, but I mean he hasn’t really given me a reason to be truly scared, yet.

“Nice to m-meet you, Cas.” I put on my best fake genuine smile. What? Have to find some way to convince him I wasn’t scared. Even if my body was trembling like crazy and my heart threatened to just come right out of my mouth.

“Y-you too, sir.” His hand slightly twitched, but he just shook his head, giving me a sad look. ‘Sir?’ Why did he call me that? I didn’t dwell on it. Instead, I turned to look at the place, not finding a place to put my stuff. I sighed, hurrying to place it up against the wall opposite of Cas. This would be fine. Yeah, yeah.

Casper, overall, seemed pretty nice. He had a black, messy hair that complimented his light-brown eyes. He wore a baggy long-sleeve shirt with a pair of jeans I have no idea why he was just wearing jeans in his own house, but it’s whatever he wants to do. Not my place to comment. The only real thing that caught my attention were the light bags in his eyes. Has he been sleeping?

“Did you want to come here? Like, willingly?” He had asked, slightly leaning a little closer to my spot in the middle of the floor. I admit, it made me a little uneasy, but I don’t think he realized it. It just made it really hard to answer his question when all I could think about was how easily he could kill me right now. He wouldn’t do that, right? He seems so nice. Even if I’m barely two inches to him and I could easily just be crushed or accidentally killed if he wasn’t being too mindful. I shuddered at the thought, but forced my voice to work with me.

“I-I’m just a student at a college. They just told us we were going to help out shifters, for like, real-world training I guess.” I started speaking a little fast and I could hear my voice slowly get quieter the more Cas seemed to lower his body to me. I felt so small compared to him. It’s overwhelming really, but it’s not like I can just back out. I already asked and they said if I did then I wasn’t cut out to stay in the classes. Seriously, all I wanted was to either be a therapist or a social worker. Not take on these huge responsibilities of making sure an entire living being is doing okay and doesn’t have any malicious intent to just… Aghhhh.

“Oh. Well, I’m not exactly the best person to be paired up with.” He laughed sadly, holding up his wrist and revealing a red band. A little squeak left my mouth as I stood in place, practically frozen in fear. Why did they pair me up with him? They gave me more than I can handle. There was no way I could do this. I bit the side of my cheek, struggling to keep my composure.

Cas caught onto my fear, scooting as far away from me as he could while making sure I wouldn’t freak out. Why did he move away? I was going to be fine. I think- But I was okay. Just as long as I keep a certain distance from him for a while. It takes me a long time to adjust to new things, and this might take me a while, but I couldn’t just do nothing. It was obvious to me that Cas was afraid of something, I just couldn’t figure out what just yet.

“I’m fine, Cas, I promise.” I nervously smiled, hiding how terrified I was. Shifters with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Great. Seriously, what have they done? They think I can handle someone who already looks like he’s struggling to keep himself together just by meeting me? I didn’t really want to find out what would happen if he doesn’t contain his emotions. Was there a person partnered up with him before? I knew I wasn’t going to be getting any answers, but there was no harm in asking them.

“O-Okay,” He whispered, getting in a more comfortable sitting position, “Are you sure though? I don’t mind giving you an hour or two to get used to… everything.” He looked away for a second, and I could tell something was on his mind. Along with the constant moving away every time I had tried to walk closer, or when he knew I was scared of him, I would think to say that he’s scared of himself. Or, at least hurting other people. It makes sense actually. I’ve heard stories that a lot of shifters realize that they can really hurt people and just try their hardest not to interact with people smaller than themselves. It’s like they collapse on themselves since they don’t want to hurt anyone. I guess Cas and I weren’t so different.

“Okay, look, it’s obvious that you’re more afraid of yourself than I am of you,” Cas’s eyes widened, “How about we both try to help each other out? I’ll keep trying if you do.” I held out my hand without thinking. A compromise between the two of us. I know we both met like five minutes ago, but I’m pretty sharp for people my age with little experience. But, honestly, maybe this wasn’t so bad. I think all that Cas wanted was the relief that he won’t hurt people. Or something like that.

“You’d go through with all that? I’m not exactly mentally stable.” I could tell that he was worried, but I just nodded my head, a genuine smile on my face that I hoped he could see.

He eyed my hand for a while, and I still hadn’t realized what was wrong until he lightly pinched my hand between the tip of his pointer and thumb, barely even lifting it up and down for my own sake. Oh he has no idea how scared I was right now, but he didn’t have to know that. Just a little more pressure and he could just yank my arm right off-I shook that thought away. Don’t think about that right now. It would be okay. Just as long as I get an idea of what to do when he does eventually lose control or something. I had zero idea. I think the thought that stuck in the back of my mind was making me more worried than anything really. I’m just a stress toy for him. But I’ll just have to get over my fear. There was no way I would let this stop me from graduating. Not in a million years.

——————

Sorry for a slightly boring chapter! I did a LOT of world building for this one, and had to map out almost every single interaction through the course of the entire story plot. There also wasn’t much g/t but again, it’s just an introduction chapter. (I’m doing what I love and no one can stop me hehehe-)

But I hope you enjoyed reading! I promise the second chapter will have a much, much better g/t interaction. (Oh trust me it will >:3) I hope you all have a great day/night!

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the1975attheirverybest · 1 year ago

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To/for all fanfic readers and writers, with lots of love ❤️:

Hey friends 💗 so, as many of you already know, a lot of fans (many of them fanfic writers) have been leaving tumblr lately and our community has been affected by a lot of negativity and stress for the compounding effects of multiple reasons. Though this is by no means the ONLY reason, fanfic writers have recently dealt with a lot of undue hate, unnecessary drama, and not enough appreciation.

Writers don’t only write for validation. HOWEVER, the experience and practice of writing comes with a lot of feelings of inadequacy and imposter syndrome. Moreover, writing is primarily a mode of connection. Al of art is. People who write, paint, make music, build stuff…we all do so as ways to express ourselves and connect with others. And getting to share what you write at the end of the writing process adds a layer of meaning to what you do that wouldn’t otherwise exist if you just saved it in a little folder somewhere on your device. So, when writers feel more stress and drama than appreciation, support, or any sign that the connection they reached out for has been made, it naturally makes us question what we do.

It pains me (and I know so may of my mutuals share this sentiment) to see so many talented and beautiful souls leave the fandom space because the culture of community and support that used to be here is no longer inclusive of everyone. It seems, these days, every time I log on, I’m seeing more and more mutuals saying that they’re going to leave, take a long break, or stop posting. I don’t know about you all, but I know I speak both, as a reader, and a writer, when I say that other people leaving is not good for them, for me, or for anyone who loves this fandom and this community.

What can we do about this?

Writers:

Hello my babies ❤️ I love you all. I see you all.

PLEASE OH PLEASE KEEP WRITING.

You’re doing amazing. You are the glue that holds this community together. You make art. Inspire conversations. Stir other people’s imaginations.

Art produces art. I started posting on here because I read the writing of other talented people on here that MADE ME want to start doing it.

Whether you write little blurbs, take request, writer multi-chapter, long, thousand + word fics, or just concepts; whether you write smut, fluff, angst….whatever it is that you do, you are valid. Important. Needed. Necessary.

When the inevitable “hiatus” occurs or even in between shows….who do you think this fandom depends on for keeping the energy alive? Writers.

Writing can be a lonely and self-loathing experience. We need each other. Reach out to other writers. Lift them up. Support them.

Share your work with one another. Discuss. Fangirl. Celebrate yourselves and each other. No, no, no ,no!! I heard that. I heard that sneaky voice in the back of your head telling you that you don’t have the right to call yourself a writer or to celebrate cuz you’re not even that good. FUCK THAT SHIT. YES YOU DO. YES YOU ARE.

Readers

Y’all are so so so special. ❤️ yes we write to entertain ourselves. Yes we do it cuz it’s fun. But when I tell you that there is no greater joy to me than reading y’all’s thoughts in the tags when you reblog, or seeing your comments or asks….literally means more to me than anything.

Do NOT let anyone make you feel bad or guilty about enjoying fanfiction.

If you like a fic, engage with it. Like, comment, reblog, reach out to the writer and let them know that you liked it.

Bonus points if you let them know WHAT you liked about it. I promise you, you’ll have that talented and slutty and sweet mf kicking screaming twirling their hair and smiling for the rest of the day if you tell them you enjoyed what they wrote.

You are never bothering us. We never get tired of your kindness. It’s never repetitive. It’s never meaningless. Any time that you say something, your comment will pop into our head when we next question whether or keep going or not.

Sooooo….what do we do about this?

I encourage you, whether you’re a new writer or a writer with a platform, please don’t stop because some childish killjoys with inferiority complexes wanna take your shine away. Post your work. Enjoy the unique pleasures of making art outside of the structures of capitalist consumption. Nobody is paying you for this. Nobody is estimating the value of your worth and trying to market your labor. Do you know how rare that is???

Writers support writers. Lift each other up. Share each others work. Give each other feedback. Remind each other of each others talent when you see someone starting to doubt themselves or haters getting under their skin.

Readers: like, COMMENT, FUCKIN REBLOG. it takes an extra second. It’s worth more than you know. Do it. It’s the least you can do for someone who has poured their heart and soul into something and delivered it to you on a silver platter.

Writers, readers, shitposters, fans a like: look out for one another. Take care of each other. Have each others backs. If you see a hateful comment, if you see someone trying to gate-keep, shame, or alienate anyone for any reason, CALL. THEM. OUT. Actions have consequences. If you’re so cowardly as to take yiu hate from one platform to another, you don’t have the write to make people feel like shit and ruin their hobby without consequences. You’ll be called on to answer for your bullshit.

There is no hierarchy within the fandom. You don’t get to tell someone how matty will feel about them as a fan and you don’t get to judge the way that someone participates in this fandom.

This month, a lot of your favorite authors will be posting October/ fall/ Halloween themed fics because of this. I think it’s the perfect time to revisit the way that we do reader and writer appreciation around here. I encourage you all to engage with fanfiction more personally and help make this fandom safe for everyone.

#matty healy fanfic #the 1975 fanfic #Ross McDonald fanfic #george daniel fanfiction

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jakotsuto · 3 months ago

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there are many things I have Autistic Beef™ with old Ban/Ja fanfics and fan art about— many things. I am aware that a lot of it is a Product of the Times. I also acknowledge I am but an archaeologist sifting through the bones they left behind.

but I’m actually offended by some of the old takes on Bankotsu & Jakotsu’s characters. Both of ‘em, but mainly Jakotsu.

Primarily, my hatred for the idea that Jakotsu is handsy and always invading Bankotsu’s boundaries/personal space, to the displeasure/flushtration of Bankotsu.

Neither of these characters are particularly handsy, per se, but comparatively, Bankotsu is “handsier” than Jakotsu.

Alright, buckle up, because this is my special interest and I am physically incapable of not over-analyzing it. I am putting them under a microscope and I am studying them. They are locked in a jar. (Affectionately)

Or, in other and more clear-cut words that don’t resemble the ramblings of a madman:

Analyzing Inuyasha: Jakotsu Isn’t Handsy

And you can also watch while I completely abuse my newfound gif-making ability.

Jakotsu is usually considered to be, for lack of any other word to aptly describe it, “handsy” by the fandom. Whether this stems from gay stereotypes or Jakotsu’s affectionate and flamboyant personality, I couldn’t be certain. But I do know that canon disagrees.

So let’s see what canon has to say, regarding this.

Let’s start with some examples of times Jakotsu did physically touch another member of the BO7:

When he punishes Mukotsu, who deserves it.

In the intro, Jakotsu also uses Mukotsu as an armrest, which is what Mukotsu deserves because he’s terrible and the worst.

When Jakotsu helps Suikotsu onto Ginkotsu because Suikotsu is having a personality crisis. (The crisis being that he has too many and somehow not an interesting one in the batch.)

There’s also this very brief moment when he’s handing Bankotsu the jewel shard that his hand is in Bankotsu’s, but Jakotsu doesn’t linger (despite ample opportunity.)

It’s hard whether or not to count Ginkotsu here, because they all ride on Ginkotsu (especially Renkotsu) and often lean on him. Jakotsu often sits on Ginkotsu, and in one frame pictured above, has his hand on Ginkotsu. (This changes in the next shot, where his arm is just kind of resting on Ginkotsu’s metal shoulder.)

PLUS, outside of Renkotsu and Bankotsu, no one treats Car Ginkotsu as a person.

Regardless, Jakotsu doesn’t just casually touch people with affection like that. In fact, Jakotsu is very good at keeping his hands to himself— he does it in most of his scenes.

Jakotsu pretty consistently does that thing where he folds his arms into his sleeves, and otherwise lets them be completely absorbed into his sleeves. Even when he’s sitting/standing right next to Bankotsu, he makes no attempts to initiate physical contact.

Bankotsu, on the other hand…

Bankotsu initiates physical contact with both Jakotsu and Renkotsu. With Renkotsu, it’s somewhat of an intimidation tactic— a threatening undertone. However, the fact it doesn’t immediately clue Renkotsu into the fact Bankotsu is very much onto him, suggests that such affection might not be unheard of from Bankotsu.

To further support that theory, Bankotsu does have non-physical displays of affection/caring about his comrades, such as:

Catching and offering Ginkotsu a butterfly to eat, but releasing it when he realizes Ginkotsu just likes watching butterflies.

Buries Kyoukotsu and Mukotsu and has a drink to honour them

Returns Jakotsu’s greeting/greets the group when Kohaku brings them to Bankotsu, (“Hey, Bankotsu!” “Yo!”)

Specifically acknowledges that not all of them are together again because Mukotsu and Kyoukotsu were killed again.

Has a drink with Jakotsu after battle, while lightly scolding him for not even considering leaving people alive to serve them

Asks Jakotsu to go to war with him, pre-BO7

Actively seeks Jakotsu out after his battle with Sesshomaru, saying he’s been looking for Jakotsu.

Refers to the BO7 as “his friends”

Sadly talks to himself about how it’s lonely that he’s the last one left.

Thinks about each of them when he’s the last one.

Attempts to seek vengeance for his fallen comrades despite the fact he acknowledges that it was inevitable. He also seems to know he won’t survive this encounter, as he refers to it as the final battle of the Band of Seven.

Whereas, for example, Jakotsu considers most of the Band of Seven members nuisances:

Calls Kyoukotsu a stupid idiot and says that it “served [him] right” that Koga killed him, and also referred to him as being the weakest among them

“Damn you, Mukotsu!”, Steps on Mukotsu’s head and flicks it downwards, seems to mostly not care what Mukotsu does as long as it doesn’t affect him

Doesn’t say much about Ginkotsu except that he’s fairly strong, but actively hopes he will fail to kill Inuyasha. Doesn’t talk or think about Ginkotsu outside of that.

Threatens to kill Suikotsu

Physically harms and cuts Suikotsu up to “awaken” him

Lectures Suikotsu about not turning into a “good person” in the middle of the fight

Doesn’t trust that Suikotsu followed through on this, and stalked him after Suikotsu fell off the bridge— convinced up until Neutral Suikotsu killed a man that Suikotsu was back to being good and he’d have to “open his eyes” again.

Gets annoyed at Suikotsu any time his “good” personality is pushing through, such as when Suikotsu is stopping him from murdering the kids— even though Jakotsu doesn’t actively want to kill the kids

The only two members that Jakotsu seems to like are Bankotsu (obviously) and Renkotsu, who while he refers to as being “cruel” to him, he also shows a decent amount of respect for. He does follow Renkotsu’s orders, albeit complaining the whole time, and is completely honest and even friendly with Renkotsu.

Now, let’s get into That Scene, the one which I nicknamed “Abarero!!” after their song.

Bankotsu is overcome with emotion (“emotionally touched”) to the point of tears (visible in two of these frames) because of Jakotsu’s unwavering loyalty and selflessness. He tugs Jakotsu towards him and wraps an arm around him, initiating physical affection.

There are many reasons why Jakotsu reacts the way he does to this affection— namely, surprised and confused— but what I’d like to focus on is the fact he’s taken aback and the fact he doesn’t attempt to reciprocate the affection.

By all means, Bankotsu has given him an opening to return the half-embrace. But Jakotsu keeps his hands tucked into his sleeves. He leaves Bankotsu fully in control of this interaction and affection.

As for Jakotsu’s affections with his enemies…

He picks Inuyasha up by the hair, presses on his wounds at one point, and throws Inuyasha like a ragdoll at the stirring demons of Mt. Hakurei.

Up until that, I think we should note— his final battle with Inuyasha is the first time he makes any kind of direct contact with Inuyasha. It’s also the first time he talks about wanting to embrace Inuyasha.

“But your human form is so luscious it makes me wanna take you in my arms!” / “But your human form is so adorable, I want to hug you.”

Jakotsu, while attracted to Inuyasha, exclusively talks about embracing him— and only during their last battle when Inuyasha is human. Jakotsu even vocalizes a fantasy where Inuyasha wants Jakotsu to hold him tenderly for awhile.

“You’ll cry ‘Jakotsu, just hold me in your arms awhile, please.’” / “Jakotsu, please hold me gently in your arms.”

And that is exactly what Jakotsu plans to do. During the fight, which Jakotsu purposefully doesn’t try and speed up. Jakotsu even says, “Come. It is almost time for our embrace— our embrace made slick with your blood.”

The embrace is something special to him that he wishes to savour, so he is saving it for last. In other words, that affection is a Big Deal to him. It is in no way casual, and it’s the most he openly desires physical contact.

(It’s also what makes me believe that Jakotsu truly does not intend to go Any Further than that, because Jakotsu is very upfront about his intentions— and the fact that he wants Inuyasha to desire him to hold him gently like that further illustrates the possibility of Jakotsu having some twisted standards about consent.

Men don’t want to hold and/or be held by Jakotsu? Make them yearn for such gentleness by showing them extreme violence and torture.)

As a conclusion:

Jakotsu doesn’t do physical touch as a purely affectionate or casual thing at all from what we see, the closest thing we get to that is him assisting Suikotsu. (He has other ways of showing affection to his friends.)

Bankotsu doesn’t seem to have any reservations about being affectionate, however, and comparatively is the handsy one.

thanks for coming to my tedtalk. I’ll untie you now.

#inuyasha #jakotsu #bankotsu #analysis #fandom criticism #cw homophobia #I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate on why mischaracterization of a gay character being handsy bothers me right?#also tbh Jakotsu is probably touch-starved and 90% of his evil urges would be solved if he had a boyfriend #Queue #favourites

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1moreoffkeyanthem · 9 months ago

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17. talk about your writing and editing process <3

Man apparently I’m allergic to checking my inbox but HEY better late than never my love!

So my process, if you can even call it that, is chaotic as FUCK!!! I stare off into space writing it mentally first, type all my bullshit in my notes app like a heathen, don’t proofread, drop unsolicited personal lore in the notes, all that. Gonna use TWITR as an example again btw

I’ve said it before, but The Webs In The Rafters is based on a WHACK ASS DREAM I HAD. specifically chapter 17 and the climax of the story. Like I was the Kenny character, Sansa the dog was telepathically speaking in my mind, there were piles of cuddling cats everywhere, the sound of helicopter blades and a trail of spiders in the hay. I woke up like bro what the hell this is a story right here and I went from there. And in fleshing out the plot, pinning the story beats, the time I was writing it was PERFECT TIMING. Because I had a six hour drive to make for a friend’s wedding. And what did my insane ass do? I FUCKING RAWDAWGED that drive. No music, no audiobook, just silent highways and plotting TWITR. By the time I got home I had a very clear idea of where I was going with the story that at that point was only a few set up chapters and a title.

Speaking of titles, a lot of the time I have titles before I have plot, which is kinda weird bc I know a lot of people struggle with titles, but that’s one of the first things that comes to me. Especially with my one shots, like my kysterion fic All The Punches That I’ve Thrown. That lyric popped into my head and a fic idea with it. Song lyrics inspire a LOT of ideas for me.

So does art. Like with In The Truly Gruesome, I saw a drawing emilyartstudios did of Stan and Shelley working a booth for Tegrity at a fair and I was like YO WHAT IF I FUCKED THIS UP AND STUCK ZOMBIE ALIENS IN THERE lmfao. And ofc, the OrangeJuiceVerse wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t seen foxydodo’s art of basketball player Kyle and mascot Stan.

While oneshots come together pretty fast for me usually, being written out in my head to be typed out in the course of a day (back in the days of janitor Riley bored as shit at work and having the time and energy for that lol), multichapters are require more thought structurally. So what I like to do with a multichap:

Think of it in three acts. In script writing, there’s something called the “page 12 event”, the event that gets the plot rolling near the beginning of the film. And I like to stick an event like that at the end of chapter 1 of my stuff a lot of the time, like ITTG and uhhhh yeeting Stan into a mineshaft after we find out the boys are being chased by monsters (jesus what is wrong with me). What I’m getting at: I like to know where my beginning middle and end are, how the characters are feeling at each step, how their relationships change, all that. And a lot of the time I think of the end before I do the middle or beginning tbh. Like I said, chaos. I think of a random scenario (as we know usually someone is hurt and getting taken care of bc I’m fucking evil and that’s where my brain goes constantly), hence the WhumpShots.

And I do primarily operate in WhumpShots. I picture a scene with a character getting their injuries tended, sick and dizzy but having a friend or loved one at their side, etc, and BAM that scene becomes a oneshot. Even the REALLY short ones, like the sot bunny I did last summer called So Only Say My Name, was about 700 words and one sequence of events. That kind of to the point structure comes easy to me, which is why I loved doing Style Week so much; new oneshot prompt every day. And while I don’t usually proofread after I finish a work, I edit as I go, sometimes post random lines on here or send a screenshot to the R.A.N.T. homies (I’ve definitely done this more as of late, a habit from when I attempted writing smut for the first time and would send neen a screenshot all “IS THIS CRINGE?!?” lmfao I love the Idea Trampoline tho). And I can’t spell so autocorrect is fr my saving grace unless it betrays me. Off the top of my head I can think of 3 words in 3 separate fics that I need to fix but am simply not going to bc that requires effort and oh fuckin well.

And I say that, but I may be lax about the more fiddly stuff but I care SO much about the big picture. Like “does this convey the feelings I want it to? Is this going to be a bright spot in someone’s day? Is the vibe I want there?” That’s my priority. If I can leave an impact on a reader, entertain them, make them smile, that’s what matters to me.

Jesus sorry this was a convoluted answer lmao it’s 3 in the morning and I woke up all “hey I should actually check my inbox” and here we are

Thank u for asking abt my chaos melda tâe

#asks #why is my ‘process’ just ‘hey what if I stick Stan in an avalanche and he has to keep Kyle calm enough to take care of him’#insanity #south park #my shit #also I’m awful at answering asks sorry yall

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caustic-caffeine · 10 months ago

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Helpful Blog Guide (or, what you’ll find here)

this post updates from time to time | last update: november 1, 2024

『 Important Disclaimers! 』

Please read this if you aren’t already familiar with me and my work.

BYI ➥

This blog features dark themes, including but not limited to: gore*, toxic relationships, various forms of horror, violence, drug abuse, etc. There’s also the occasional eyestrainy post. Basically, I like to explore angst through my art and lore. I am not my characters, they are not me; I do not condone hurting yourself or other people.

*Gore is drawn and not of real life people.

I am a minor, and aroace, so sex isn’t mentioned (and especially not depicted) to any level here. What I choose to depict may change in the future, though. The general takeaway you should have is this:

This blog overall is a 16+ space. If you’re younger than 16, I won’t block you, but tread carefully. If any of you find any of the above topics to be upsetting, I recommend not following my page.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

DNI ➥

I don’t really have a DNI list. Respect me as I’ll respect you and we’ll be chill. That being said, I’m not afraid to use the block button.

I’d prefer people older than 30 or younger than 13 not trying to befriend me. Keep things art related! If I already know you/we’ve been mutuals for a while then don’t stress about this, though, you’re chill!

Also, if you’re pro generative ai, you’ll be blocked immediately.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Other Boundaries ➥

Or, “block conditions” if you will. If you do any of this stuff repetitively or severely I will block you. Also, this applies to you if you aren’t a friend: https://nohello.net/en/

Do not repost my work without my explicit permission. Reblog instead!

As a general rule, don’t use slurs around me. In certain circumstances I’m chill with it, but don’t push the envelope. (I use “queer” and sometimes “crippled” to describe myself, but don’t refer to me with those terms unless you’re lgbtq+ or disabled, respectively.)

Don’t draw porn of my characters or sona. Don’t send me porn, either. I will block (and possibly report) you.

Don’t draw gore of my sona and don’t send me real life/nonfictional gore.

Don’t ask me invasive questions.

Don’t vent in asks or dms unless I explicitly said you can. I understand needing help and seeking out support, but you don’t know me and I don’t know you. There are better resources to seek out than a random teenager on tumblr. /lh

I’d like to think all of this goes without saying, but yanno. It’s the internet.

『 Navigation! 』

Here are my links and tags in a handy dandy list for convenient stalking! (/lh)

Links ➥

Main blog: you are here!

Side blog: @vesuvian-vampire

Other links: see my linktree!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tags ➥

My stuff!

#art: #oc art, #oc ref sheet, #illustration, #doodle, #art fight (and #art fight 2024), #art trade, #art commission, #gift art (for specifics)

#just thoughts: #asks open, #answered asks (for specifics)

#writing; #oc lore, #worldbuilding (for specifics)

Others’ Stuff!

#reblogs: #others’ art, #others’ projects, #campaigns and fundraisers, #misc (for specifics)

『 About The Blogger! 』

Soo, what’s this page and who’s the person running it?

Hi! I’m Casey, an artist and worldbuilder with a love for dark fantasy and sci-fi settings. I primarily draw digitally using the program Procreate on my Ipad. In the future, I also want to branch out into programs like Live2D, Aseprite, and Blender. Perhaps I’ll even learn to code for visual novels and other games based on the stories floating around in my head. I dunno. I’m a mixed bag, really, both stylistically and in what I like to depict.

I’m disabled and neurodivergent (AuDHD). I deal with a lot of chronic fatigue and pain in my day to day so my post frequency is very sporadic.

I’m also queer. Aroace, agender, transmasc. I primarily use he/him but don’t really care about pronouns; just don’t use she/her on me.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Some things that inspire me ➥

The Arcana (visual novel game)

My awesome friends, mutuals, and artists I follow

Amulet (graphic novel series)

Slay The Spire (roguelike deckbuilder game)

Dead Cells (roguelike metroidvania game)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Other General Likes ➥

My special interests (generally, art and writing)

Metal and hard rock music

Dogs (the bigger the better)

Baking

Kayaking and rafting

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I post random shit on this account. Lots of art, but really whatever I feel like posting. It’s called “Casey’s Mystery Grab Bag” for a reason!

『 Other Info! 』

In the format of a q&a just because it’s fun.

“Who’s that one vampire(?) oc I see so frequently on this page?”

Francis! They use they/them pronouns exclusively and are a main character in one of my storylines, “Cecie’s Lament”. For more about Francis, check out their Toyhouse page!

“What’s your commission/art trade/art collab status?”

My commissions are closed.

Art trades are open (dm me if you’re interested)!

Art collabs are open to friends and mutuals.

If my status changes, I’ll update this post alongside announcing the status change.

“Who are the people whose names are bracketed?”

Those are whichever characters are being featured in a given post! Most are mine but some aren’t; the ones who belong to others are hyperlinked.

#meet the artist #meet the blogger #pinned intro

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mostspecialgirl · 5 months ago

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i dont think i can do “artist spaces” anymore because i’m really stupid. - ramble post with no point or central focus aside from making myself feel less weird

like…. i’m stupid. and i like it! But every artist i meet is like some kind of super genius and irs kind of nuts, everyone’s got such vision and intelligence and honed skill and all these interesting things about their lives and practice away from the arts and i’m some kind of inert orb who doesn't have much soul in her work aside from "isnt this cool like a animes" or "this is how im feeling". at least when it comes to Drawinf a Pitures.

i can deal with spaces where everyone’s just hanging out and Some People Happen to be Artists but spaces primarily composed of people steeped in the arts actually remind me that i'm a socially inept cavewoman who barely knows how to use the microwave. sufficiently talented artists ('sufficient' referring to people who have labelled themself an artist and have been online for more than 2 years) who i end up talking to online are 80% of the time some kind of Art Student Med Student Math Prodigy or Mentally Ill Genius Socially Inept Outsider Artist with insane Honed Unique Skill and when you apply that 80% to a whole lump of people in a GC or a Discord Server where the other 20% don't really talk there it gets real mentally exhausting as someone generally quite unimpressive and classically unskilled.

i dunno. I just kind of find it interesting that people with such talent, skill, wit, and (as ive repeated endlessly) intelligence are always drawn to the arts. a lot of my friends ive made who are very smart people ive learned 3 years into the friendship they used to do painting studies and are some kind of closet picasso while ive been showing them my meager collection of shale and sediment. is the pursuit of the artistic a mark of something deeper? what must one’s character lack to not seek creative self expression? what separates a creator from a consumer, and the blind from the perceptive? is creating art for the simple purpose of “cool and fun” shallow? does that answer change with ones talent? what is shallow art? is there truly such a thing?

cough

anyway. i’m just kind of a dumb baby, and it makes me sad that i never really feel like i can talk about art with most people because i don’t know anything. i’m not looking for construction or anything, i just want to be able to say “isn’t making something fun” without being reminded of my own inadequacies. i feel like art shouldn’t have to be this “smart” thing, and it isn’t, but art itself draws in the smart, and so like in many other spaces i feel a bit outcasted. obviously the solution here is to talk to MINORS from TIKTOK (gets cancelled)

but i really dunno. i feel stupid a lot these days and i feel like there aren’t any spaces that fit me, even when on paper these should be the spaces i should be in. even off the paper, anywhere i go i can’t help but feel like a bit of a bump on a log. like an erroneously flipped bit. i’m the stray ray from the sun beamed into the nintendo 64. that’s how i feel among other people, no matter who i’m with. it’s strange, because i really do like myself. i’ve passed a lot of the self deprecation and self doubt that used to chain me, and is it strange to say i believed casting those aside would help me find a bit more belonging among other people?

it hasn’t! life’s the same! maybe worse? i’m not self actualized or anything, but i think i’ve really grown as a person, so it’s sort of sucky that i fit better in place as a problem child. well i suppose as the Old Ones spoke, every group needs The Rick Friend. meeting people is hard. wanting to stay among people i’ve met is even harder. i like to blame a lot of it on the Modern Internet and the sheer amount of how many people have invaded my once cozy corners. with The Net these days being less of a space for Niche Freaks and instead being Grandma And Your Little Cousin Just Saw You Post Your Wiener On Instagram i’d think it’s only natural i’m running into less likeminded people. but i dunno. i feel like some of it’s my fault. i’m a weird little giblet of a girl, aren’t i? and man do i EVER hate people. I’m a big hater.

everybody i meet these days just makes me drool because everyone’s some kind of Valorant Edater or Reddit Object Show Minor or The Hypersexual or Someone I’m Too Intimidated By or Someone Who Does Not Want To Be Talking To Me. where’s Literally Anything Else. Everyone i meet these days fits into those categories. Give me anything else. What is wrong with my Spaces

i really don’t know how people make friends online these days. i’m always posting these days about Haha I Need Friends and Haha I Need A Wife that falls endlessly into the empty infinite void (much like now) for a reason. no matter where i seem to go, i walk dragging my feet, half-lidded and unengaged with a soft scowl on my face. i’ll figure it out, right? i’ll certainly make new friends, right? because i have to, right?

i dont wanna go to work tomorrow dude

#leastspecialgirl

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ravencincaide · 6 months ago

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Come now, rules are meant to be read~

ⓘ RULES: This is a DARK SFW + BSD heavy, not spoiler-free blog.

This means that those below 18, AKA minors, are welcome in this space to a certain degree! NOTE! Just because I don’t post PWP, NSFW, and SMUT on this channel that does not mean ALL content is suitable for ALL ages and publics. Read the warnings carefully!

If you don’t like dark content, cursing, swearing, violence etc then- what the heck are you even doing on a BSD blog? Jesus. Just block me at this point and get on with your day.

ⓘ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐃𝐍𝐈: if you lack basic common sense: Do I even need to list it all at this point? C'mon you've seen it a million times before and this blog is no exception. In addition, if you cannot separate fiction from real life, like trolling or just being rude, then this place isn’t for you.

ⓘNote! All the profile pictures and other art content is AI-generated using Gencraft. An issue? You know where the block button is.

ⓘ In addition:

DO NOT claim, plagiarise, repost, translate into different languages, or feed my works into ai. Doing this will just result in a ban and ultimately me hiding my works (again).

DO NOT spam my inbox wondering why I haven’t responded to a request. I get easily overwhelmed, I have other obligations, and I’m just crawling out of a hiatus.

DO NOT ask, demand or request NSFW stuff ON THIS BLOG. All that content is being edited and moving to Miss Cincaide.

DO NOT spam like my inbox, I get that you want to bookmark my stuff but it does nothing but clod my activity box and doesn't give me any indication of what's like and not liked. And it does little to get me new traffic.

BUT ALSO CONCERNING WRITING:

Please DO!! COMMENT ON and REBLOG my posts <3 it keeps me motivated.

Please DO!! Engage with me. DMS are the easiest way to get a hold of me and then asks. You need something quickly from me and it can’t wait a few days? Reach out on my current Main account: Raven-Cincaide. I check it much more frequently!

Please DO!! Tag me in posts, challenges, random posts, games, and don’t hessitate to send me tiktok/youtube/insta links or similar through my ask. I might even type something out based on them ;)

Note! that first and foremost this blog is all about fanfiction. It’s done in my spare time, as a hobby and is published in what I consider a safe space. I don’t pump out fics like a machine. I try to stay away from hate, call outs and similar so that I can write and publish my writing here. Every now and then however I may reblog something on here or make a post about the shit-storm going on. Still, this is primarily a fic posting blog, not a moralizing one!

Questions, comments or concerns? Feel free to contact me!

#Raven Cincaide rules

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dykeza · 5 months ago

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Edit: this post is too long it’s going under read more so I don’t feel as evil tagging it okay thanks. Hi guys it’s me the asshole again can I say smth possibly controversial and tone deaf? Okay thanks .

I think a terrible amount of backlash towards SSO is done under the assumption that SSO is a small team that became a large Horse Game Corporation with a monopoly on Horse Games in the last 13 years . This is not true. SSO is still a small game worked on by a small team (there’s frequent posts on their instagram featuring basically the whole team— including like the Singular Lady that models all the horses. Like that’s One Person, Maybe More but Not A Lot More). Just bc it has more polish does not mean it’s suddenly not made by a small team in a likely rented office space who strive to pay their workers fairly. Lots of ppl on Reddit saying shit like “I wonder if the higher-ups at the sso company make it so the designers can’t do whatever they want :(“ There aren’t any higher-ups. It’s important to me that you know that. SSO hiking prices and lowering rewards and releasing smaller and smaller updates CAN be a bit shitty, I’m not saying it’s not. I’m saying there’s nuance that’s lost when a bunch of primarily older teenaged and adult women and queer ppl— (I am aware how insane that sounds but I don’t think many straight cis dudes are rockin with the horse game, and if they are they’re not the majority) —are yelling in Instagram comment sections about how shitty the SSO dev team is because they (checks notes) have to raise the prices of their horse game because they have to maintain a livable wage for themselves, pay rent and utility bills on their machines and spaces that they need to even make the game, and pay for marketing and other expenses, in a global post-Covid hyper-inflated economy. So woe is you that star coins cost more. A 10k star coin gift card used to be 108 dollars around my neck of the woods (America) and now it’s 79.99. That’s less money btw in case you can’t do math because you’re too blinded by your rage over game designers, artists, developers, and coders being paid more than peanuts to update the same fucking game for 13 years WEEKLY. Okay man. Whatever. Old man yelling at cloud over here. A lot of this has been building for months-years now but the Medieval Arena update really like, made it apparent to me for some reason. Maybe it’s cuz I like the update I think it’s cute I think it’s nice and small and quaint. But like— it’s So Obvious that the Medieval Arena and all its little additions and the future ones were made by a small team of people who just, wanted to have a fun Renaissance Fair in their game that they make. Bc yknow, again, they’re updating and making a game that they are paid to update and make because they want to update and make it. Sorry you don’t like shitty jousting mechanics and a cute lil fairground . Do you also hate the sun for shining? Oh you miss the old events? Oh you hate that sso is all corporate and lifeless now? Should we tell everyone? Should we invite Bella Hadid? Have you even once considered that maybe the people who make the game are People making a Game, and they can do whatever they want with their game? You, yes you, can also do whatever you want. You have the hands that create. You don’t get mad at an artist with a canvas and paints for doing art the wrong way, right? So why is it okay to get mad at an artist with a computer and a coding software for doing art the wrong way? Every horse, building, character, clothing, tack, tree, bush, boat, car, and all the hundreds of other things in this game are made by hand by dedicated people but yeah, you’re mad that they Chose To Do Something THEY Wanted To Do over doing the thirteenth birthday event in a row to appease a bunch of people who never seem to be happy with their art anyway. Fuck off. Sorry for yelling. I’m not sorry but sorry for yelling. Please die.

#sso #Kay thanks

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geatsoneness · 1 month ago

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Hey from Geats! I’ll have a go answering a few of these.

Yes, I do. (Spoilers for my source ahead.) Essentially, I was one of 4 aspects created from Ace when he got split by the Godslayers (Mela and Melo), and the last one alive (considered the leftovers/dregs) when Mela when took his/my power, luck and strength to destroy the world as Kamen Rider XGeats. I only survived, waking up on an endless beach, after my friends realised who I represented and protected me with their lives, and in the end, with their wishes and the hopes of the world, I got my rider form (Geats Oneness) and managed to stop them.

As a fictive, yeah! Here’s what I look like in source: (my outfit is still the same in headspace, here.)

3. I’m the god of, in short, humanity, determination, hope, the heart (in a heroism / hopepunk sense), and Kamen Riders/heroes. I’m also a guardian deity, and fight for a world where everyone can be happy, and I’ll be there if someone needs reminding they have a future and can be happy. I’m also a god of… ‘feeling and continuing on and finding hope/meaning despite a hostile world’, but I don’t think there’s a single word for that, along with joy is resistance, and cyclebreaking/positive change.

4. I’m not really worshipped in a traditional sense. If you do want to worship me, though… go out there and be the best person you can be. Be a good friend, keep on finding hope and joy even if the world doesn’t want to. Keep on learning, experience new things, find new music. Create some art, laugh with your friends, find what makes your heart happy, take a stand for others, volunteer and help someone else today. To everyone, you’ve got my blessing.

5. I do feel somewhat of a connection to the kami-sama of Shinto practice, as I’m an aspect of one in source. I don’t consider myself one specifically here, more of a god in a general sense.

6. These are more philosophies/movements, but joy is resistance and hopepunk.

7. Benevolent: In source, I’m there to help bring people hope, help them find happiness, and protect the world as a Kamen Rider.

8. Honestly about the same: there’s an awful lot of bad stuff in this world, and people who put down other people’s happiness for their own… but there’s also community, friendship, hope, chosen family, love of all kinds… and I believe it can overcome anything. That is especially important to hold onto now.

9. Not really, no. If I did… I’d probably appear in dreams most often, but I do have a physical form if I need it.

10. I did grant blessings, and help grant people’s wishes. If someone needed hope, I’d be there.

11. I think people would revere me more, even though I’m not really that type of god! I’m almost like… a friend/source of support you can call at any time. That’s the type of god I was, and still want to be, in the limited way I can now.

12. Quite a few, but strongest, The Flood by Take That. I edited my movie to it a while ago, and it works very well. https://open.spotify.com/track/3F0Ei18pIsOZlDiEA777hK?si=BZvxon0FRP2rNfcGi615B

13. Apart from their cards with their wishes on it… I think people would leave flowers, primarily. I think music would also be a big theme.

14. Do something kind for someone today, and no matter what, do not give up. Especially for marginalised people, finding joy, community, and building a future where we can be happy is an act of resistance. The first step to doing that is still being here. Remember, no matter what: someone like you has gone before you, and someday, someone will need to hear your story to get through the same things you have overcome.

15. I honestly don’t know? Centres of communities, parties, safe spaces… sunsets, a nice beach, art?

17. Not romantically, but I have many trusted Riders and friends who helped me and believed in me when I needed it most, and I now try and help them here in this brain, as nearly all of us Geats riders are headmates in this system. Our partner has a fictotype of one of them, though, and is a demon, so I guess you could say we are here.

19. Yeah, I’m a system host and caretaker, and I hold a lot of our emotions and passions. In short: I'm here to feel and process things, I'm here to find new music and find new stories, come up with ideas no one else thinks up, make new friends, play drums, learn new stuff, keep us going in a very dark world sometimes, create stuff, help us become a man/transition, remind someone there is still hope in this world, help people, try shake up and change this world for the better, and advocate and protect those I love and the communities we're a part of.

20. No, I’m still on Earth, but also above and aware of it all.

Deitykin/Godkin Question List ᯓ★

Do you have memories of being a deity? If so, what are they like?

Do you remember what your divine form looked like? If so, describe it!

Did you have a specific domain or aspect you ruled over (e.g., love, war, nature)?

Did mortals or other beings worship you? How does that memory feel?

Do you feel a connection to specific myths, cultures, or religions in this life?

Are there particular symbols, rituals, or practices that resonate with you as a deitykin?

Were you considered benevolent, neutral, or malevolent in your divine role?

How do you view mortals and humanity now compared to your past divine role?

Did you have a specific way of manifesting to mortals, such as dreams, visions, or physical apparitions?

Did you grant blessings, curses, or other forms of divine influence?

Were you revered or feared more than loved by mortals?

What song do you associate with yourself?

If you had a shrine today and were worshipped on a large-scale level, what items would people leave as offerings?

What offerings would you demand in today’s world?

What place would mortals associate with you (e.g., beaches, forests, mountains)?

Did you have a specific way of manifesting to mortals, such as dreams, visions, or physical apparitions?

Did you have relationships with other deities, mortals, or beings?

Do you remember what your divine form looked like?

Do you feel like you still have a purpose or role tied to your divine identity?

Did you reside in a specific realm or plane of existence as a deity?

These questions were inspired by @/courtroom-confession. Feel free to reblog and share your own questions, I encourage you to do so as I am curious as well.

I am also always open to answer any questions to those who seek knowledge, my friend, as I am open to all that you wish to know.

#alterhuman #otherkin #otherkin community #fictive #plural #kamen rider fictionkin #kamen rider fictive #divinekin #godkin #actually divine #deitykin #fictionkin #fictionfolk #fictionkind #fictionkin community #fictkin #endo safe

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yanderechuu · 3 years ago

Note

do any of the teachers ever notice the things happening to y/n? (i headcannon Mic and Midnight as yanderes that would give advice to 1A lol)

yandere!Class 1A x fem!reader

[2.1K]

Summary: Aizawa is the first one you approached in regards to your certain predicament.

Warning: nonconsensual recording

│

Aizawa suspected something wasn’t quite right by the moment he saw you entering the class a minute before the bell rang, all haggard and teary-eyed, though you tried your best to obscure your disposition. He always knew you to often be in a state of discomfort whenever you were compelled to socialize, especially with your classmates, but now - you looked as if you reached your limit of holding the weight of the world on your shoulders, crashing down all at once as depicted on your crestfallen expression.

And when you showed up in front of the faculty room, timidly soliciting his presence, his suspicions were only further verified. Even with a pending question regarding subject matters in your mind, you weren’t one to approach a teacher to inquire about it, and if you did it was because the teacher was the one who would ask your attendance; never the other way around.

Present Mic was the first one to acknowledge you. He stood up from his office chair, waving at you comically. “Yo, (l/n)! Having trouble with English again?”

You never had a problem with his subject; he only insisted that you’d come to him in regards to that. “N-no, not really. May I speak to Aizawa-sensei?”

“Talk with me instead!” He enthusiastically spoke and headed over to you. “Come on, what’s the matter?”

“It isn’t your place to ask that when I’m here.” Aizawa interceded, clearly unimpressed by Mic’s antics. He failed to see the latter’s displeased countenance. “(L/n), what is it?”

You avoided eye contact with him, averting your view to the ground - that was alright. You were always like this, and he didn’t mind. Nothing out of place except for the fact that it looked as if you were about to cry any moment now.

“Can we- can we, um, talk somewhere more private?” You asked quietly.

His brows raised in wonder at your request. Nevertheless, he didn’t decline you, only nodding lackadaisically before heading towards the teacher’s lounge, where you followed him suit. He flicked the door tag to ‘occupied’ and entered the room after you, when he told you sit on the three-person sofa situated not quite on the farthest left of the space. Then, he settled himself on the chair across you.

“Well?” He asked, expectantly.

But you had once again your head above a thick cloud of anxiety. You knew that after the event with Momo in the girls’ locker room - where you had injured her against your will because she had been violating your personal space - your homeroom teacher kept a cautious eye on you in case you’d re-enact that incident. And it wasn’t just that incident that made him look at you like you were a criminal on the loose, either. Your classmates found and did a lot of ways to place you in Aizawa’s naughty list just so you wouldn’t snitch on their abusive (they’d call it affectionate) behavior on you.

That didn’t erase the fact that you were nevertheless his student; he cared for you no less than he cared for his other pupils, yet you were just too ignorant in figuring that out. All that mattered to you was that you’d voice out your current concern to him, but with your insecurities holding you down it seemed it would be more difficult than you had primarily foreseen it to be.

“I-I,” you stammered out, fiddling with something inside your pocket, “u-um, you see, t-there’s this, I mean, I can’t-”

He grew increasingly frustrated with your constant stuttering, and although he did understand your shy nature which largely affected your conversational habits, he only had so much patience to deal with it.

“I don’t have all day.” He stated, glowering at your form in mild irritation. “If you’re going to keep doing that, talk to the wall.”

You abruptly halted in speaking after that, only looking down on your lap, staring wide-eyed, grief-stricken at the revelation that perhaps he really did not want to heed any of your words because you were just that bad of a student that he had decided you were not worth much the effort to concern himself with. And maybe he was right - that your words didn’t matter because you didn’t matter; that there were more affairs he better be tending to than yours; that you were only making a big deal out of this when it truthfully wasn’t.

Oh god, you felt like vomiting. Self-deprecation was getting the better of you.

He stood up and sauntered to the exit, not bothering to spare you a glance. “Come back to me when you actually know what you want to say.”

It was a matter of seconds when you ran to him, pulling him back rather harshly by the grip you had on his sleeve. He turned around due to the force to see your head still hung low, avoiding his gaze as always - only, your shoulders were quivering sporadically, and occasional sniffs were heard from your person.

“P-please, sensei...” you voiced out, shaken and horrifyingly delicate. “I-I’m so scared. Please.”

While he looked at you with contracted irises, countenance now alert from your unexpected disposition, you pulled your trembling hand out of your skirt pocket, nervously disclosing to him from your palm a small, black device with a tiny yet prominent lens.

“M-my room,” you heaved, “I-I saw this i-in my room, m-my closet, while- while I was dressing up, and I don’t know how long it had been in there but it probably already caught me bare and-”

You broke down in a flurry misery and shame, allowing yourself to fall to the ground but you didn’t - Aizawa seized you in his arms, his gentle, fatherly arms that could only do so much to console you from the horror of your reality. And he held your head as you cried on his chest, one little thing he could do after ignoring your situation and letting you think that your significance was less than the rest of his other students. At that moment, you were just so little, so fragile, so naïve he’d keep you in his pocket if he could. Why would someone do something as debauched as illegally recording your innocent self?

“I’m sor-sorry,” you sobbed, “I’m really telling the truth, p-please-”

“Shh, it’s okay. I don’t doubt you.” He reassured. Why were you apologizing? Were you that insecure of being a nuisance? No, no, you never were. Not to him. He reached for your hand to take the cursed device. “Since when did you find out?”

“J-just this morning.” You responded.

“Alright. Do you want to rest? This must have taken a huge toll on you.”

But you still had classes ongoing. Then again, you didn’t feel like looking at the faces of the prime suspects who possibly did you dirty, even when you knew that you’d have to eventually interact with them to get notes of your missed lessons. You were so tired from summoning the lot of your courage to confront your teacher regarding your problem, so you probably wouldn’t have the energy to listen to class discussion. Aizawa finalized your decision by pulling you up and guiding you towards the office of Recovery Girl who, after being briefed of your predicament by your homeroom teacher, welcomed you with a warm smile, telling you to make yourself comfortable in one of the beds in the infirmary.

He then made his way to 1A classroom, a newfound swelling of rage and disappointment in his chest, both forwarded to his class and to himself because only now did he realize that perhaps you were often so restless and apprehensive in the presence of your classmates because they did things that made you bury yourself in the deepest parts of your shell as a last attempt to revel in a sense of safety. Your timidity was not entirely derived from your own nature; it was also due to the maltreatment you were receiving from your classmates. Halting his steps by the classroom door, he looked through the glass window, seeing the class focusing on Midnight’s lecture.

Well, not quite. He could tell that your classmates were visibly affected by the lack of your presence, glancing at your desk from time to time as quiz papers were being passed behind - so they were in the middle of a test, he guessed. But that wasn’t his concern.

In impudent manner, he walked in amid Midnight’s talking, disregarding her face’s sudden morphing into vexation as the students gave him a look of confusion.

“Eraser, what are you-” she was rudely interrupted as Aizawa took the test reference papers from her hands. Something about Modern Hero Art History, he read. He faced his class with disdain, stating,

“Until someone confesses their crime of hiding a spy camera on (l/n)’s dorm room, all of you are receiving failing marks on this test.”

Quite suddenly, the class burst into violent upheaval, gasping, perking, some allowing the dreadful news of your situation to sink in, others letting out noises of complaint before actually taking consideration to the main point of Aizawa’s statement. Midnight stared at him in disbelief, but did nothing to stop his measures.

Momo abruptly stood. “I-is (y/n) okay? We should go check on her!”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Aizawa said. “All of you are suspects. You’ve no right to see her.”

“She probably just made that up get back on us for whatever fucking reason!” Yelled Bakugou.

“Yeah?” The male pro-hero disingenuously mused. He then picked up the spy camera and held it for everyone to see, before setting it down the teacher’s podium. “This was found on her closet. Would she risk recording herself naked just to prove that point?”

Noise died down thereafter, setting their sights solemnly at the device, the class collectively having the same thought in regards to the spy camera.

(Why hadn’t they thought of that? It could have been easier to check on you that way, since you almost always confined yourself in the privacy of your own room.)

“So? No one wants to speak up?” Aizawa asked, though expected the silence.

“Aizawa, have them approach you after classes. It’s embarrassing this way.” Midnight intervened.

“Well that’s the point. Get them exposed to the entire class, so everyone could realize how much of a perverted bastard one of these to-be heroes are. Good values, my ass.” He replied, not bothering to filter rather colorful vocabulary. “Where’s your dignity?”

He let a minute or two pass for the perpetrator to reveal themselves, but soon it became apparent that whomever they were refused to admit to their crime, willing to sacrifice the grades of the class for the sake of anonymity. That would be deemed useless, anyway, because Aizawa was already set on figuring out whom they were, no matter the extent he’d go to in order for that to happen. He’d expel them at once.

But he didn’t have the power to expel someone outside of his class.

“I guess that’s it for your test.” He sighed, disgruntled, picking up the small camera and sauntering his way out of the classroom after giving Midnight a look that he was dead serious with marking all of them a failing score. She stared at him in uncertainty, nonetheless abided by his decisions, albeit hesitantly.

Upon ascertaining his absence, Midnight turned to Class 1A, amusement and humor dancing on her seductive countenance.

“Naïve, hormonal teenagers,” she mused, “the closet, really? Couldn’t you have chosen somewhere less conspicuous?”

None of them bothered to tell her that they were truthfully unaware of the incident.

===

Hagakure Toru, stealth hero, entered your room silently in the nude, the only proof of her movements being a tinier, different spy camera she’d brought along with her. No, not the closet, you might find it again. It looked so painfully obvious on the desk, too, and neither in the bathroom due to its pale white interior.

But on the pencil holder situated atop your nightstand would do. You barely moved it, anyway, only having its purpose served as a decoration; something to fill the vacancy of the bedside table. After a few adjustments in camouflaging the device with the environment and making sure the lens displayed the area of your space, Hagakure checked its concealment one more time, before mechanically heading outside and back to her own dorm.

Her body collided almost violently with her room’s door, snapping her out of her trance.

“H-huh!? Weird... how’d I end up in my room?” She asked, receiving no answer from particularly anyone.

But Shinso Hitoshi could provide her one, if only he weren’t outside, staring at your terrace from five stories down your room, a gratifying smirk donned on his features. Now, the only thing he had to do was dismantle and relocate the gadgets wirelessly connected with the camera Aizawa had confiscated.

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avarindigenous · 3 years ago

Text

this is much more of a personal complaint than a deep musing on the nature of fandom as a whole, and since it is personal I welcome other perspectives and I would appreciate discussion about it. mostly, I want to speak about this because it’s more immediately painful to me than even the Finrod-as-Mighty-Whitey situation, and I’d welcome anything anyone else has to say.

I’ll begin with the point I’m trying to make: it’s extremely alienating to see people pay lip service to the concept of wanting a diverse vision of Arda and then primarily reblog or engage with fanart where everyone, even characters with relatively long-established fanon where they’re black or brown, is white. it feels hypocritical, and is frankly one of the most upsetting parts of being on Tumblr. it keeps me out of character tags, and makes me wonder if being part of the wider community is worth it when I’m not interested in furthering that aesthetic.

I’m not saying that the act of giving engagement to these pieces is inherently racist. the situation is significantly more complex than that, and no one (as far as I know) is actively doing this on purpose. I want to have a conversation about this, not come out swinging.

I’m aware that for whatever reason the Tumblr fandom is going through a period of “everyone is white”, and that as a result for characters like Fingon the only art that’s getting made is of white people. I also understand that since these are books, everyone is free to interpret characters however they please.

what I am saying is that I don’t understand why there’s not been more pushback against that shift. when the idea to make Arda more diverse first emerged, it seemed to be a welcome change that made left-leaning online fandom spaces more inclusive and took a stand against the more vocally racist groups who love Tolkien’s works for explicitly racist reasons. even though this blog is new, I’ve been a lurker here for a long time, and I’m not sure what’s changed that means suddenly we’re all not just tolerant of but glorying in the presence of overwhelmingly white (and heterosexual, but that’s a topic for another day) fanart and fancasts.

I suppose it was unrealistic of me to assume that a largely white fandom was actually invested in racially diverse visions of the cast of these books, instead of merely going with the flow. there’s also a chance that several people have simply left the fandom, and the new artists aren’t aware of long-standing traditions. but this shift makes me (and, I’m going to guess, many other fans of color) feel alienated and unsafe. it makes me wonder why anyone bothered supporting diversity in Arda in the first place, why they crafted a space I felt comfortable in only to pull the rug out from under me. a commitment to diversity doesn’t just mean highlighting creators of color or joining in on the zeitgeist. it means consciously prioritizing nonwhite depictions of characters, or at the very least giving them equal space with white ones. it means following and engaging with editors and gif makers and graphic makers and fanartists who focus on representations of a nonwhite Arda. it also means learning how to spot which artists are (consciously or unconsciously) racist in their depictions of the characters, and not engaging with those people.

I am aware these are irrational emotions, and I’m inviting conversation because I would like to get a better understanding of the reality of the situation. in fact, the above paragraph is as kind as I can manage to be because I know I’m being irrational. but I gave voice to my feelings because I wanted people who might not be aware of how upsetting it is to be told “you’re not welcome” simply because you only ever see people who look like white Europeans in a space that is not required to be inherently white or inherently European. I can take vocal racism and dismissal from people who I already know are going to dislike me. finding out that spaces explicitly framed as inclusive and welcoming when it comes to racial diversity don’t seem to be interested in prioritizing the inclusion of characters of color is more upsetting than being told “you’re a racist for saying Finrod is often depicted as a white savior” (something I was, in fact, actually told, and something I’m still attempting to understand).

the simple fact that I feel as if this space is inherently less welcoming to me does not automatically mean that there is actual hostility. I also know that there are older works, and that the characters who are most popular right now were always seen as white, regardless of whether or not they actually were white in the text.

but I would like to say that going into a character tag and only seeing white faces is extremely disheartening. it used to be the truth that any number of conceptions of a character were present. why can’t we go back to that?

#silmarillion #silmarillion meta #I really would like people to give their thoughts on this #please reply and reblog and I'll respond to as much of it as I can #as usual racists will be blocked though

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self-spaghettification · 1 year ago

Text

rb as this is my pinned post, (despite rebrand) here’s a

preface to my blog

hellooo i’m riley :) they/he, young adult, adhd, pan+nb, & my side / general stuff blog is @freefloatingtemporally , dm for nsfw tdp acct

i moved over to twitter in early july !!

@viiravos : art, writing

other stuff:

top posts, aaravos masterlist & my meta (analysis) list, aaravos playlist full explanation

fic recs

april fools rayllum shipper bit

go here to view the site with the theme as intended :)

this blog is primarily sfw besides cussing i believe!

My page WILL have TDP spoilers and they WILL NOT always be tagged (bc I don’t catch everything/don’t have the time for that tbh) additionally i will be posting tdp criticism sometimes, post s6, but it also will usually be tagged

about me

eensy teensy op lore rant: i am a programmer but i also have a variety of hobbies and bounce between them like a ping pong ball. im adhd, nonbinary, pansexual, and ace-spectrum. my username came from this, i’m not too shy about sharing info about myself. and i’ve been in fandom & drawing since 2016 :)

you can learn more about me here

i also took ap lang and lit in hs so like? analysis credentials ish hwejrwehrwejr lmfao

i’ve been in the fandom since may 2023, although i’ve been casually watching the show since season 1 came out.

i’ve only watched the show like 3 times total except for, mainly, the aaravos scenes (look don’t @ me HFJSKJFDSK) or for screencap reasons aaand i haven’t read through much of the bonus content </3 [puzzle house, tox, etc…. though i believe i do know most of the important bits :) ]

i'm kinda lazy and am a slow reader buuut i do like making fic, meta, code, art, uhh probably whatever you can think of i'm down to make it. actually, i'm not super familiar with 3d art. so. not that. rip

my fav characters are aaravos, viren, terry, claudia, and callum, and crow master (tho every character has their merits) —tier list

i generally do not take interest in ships outside of viravos & kimditi, except in specific contexts: ie, the relationship dynamic affecting how characters will be manipulated

i also made a guide on what i've learned about tumblr so far if you're interested!

boundaries:

be an interesting person worth talking to I guess

I don’t like care for the way Leola or much of season 6 was executed so—discussion and new perspectives are great, but please don’t come into my askbox only saying how good it was or feeling sad about Leola or Aaravos. It’s fine if you love them but it’s not my thing. Expect a short response if you do 😭

not a pro or an anti but a secret third thing

if you’re going to call proshippers groomers keep that shit to yourself. i’m friends with some and saying stuff like that is not ok i don’t like incest, underage, aged up, or noncon, so you won't see any of that on this page, but —everyone deserves a safe space to do what they want if it’s not harming anyone 👍 also depending on how u look at it like viravos is a weird ship for age differences, dubcon depending and all that too so yeahhh :) —>

i try to operate on a don’t like, keep scrolling, basis: outside of people with the same stance, the occasional salt and sometimes being a hater in a lighthearted way (or i hope that’s how it comes across), i kinda keep my opinions to myself. but if someone is bothering me for what i post, i'll hear you out but i'll defend myself. + if we’re mutuals / interact a lot and something i did made u uncomfortable or upset, please let me know! Feedback is important-it’s the only way people can grow and change. At least, if it’s considered.

i'm picky with blocking ppl. generally, it's fine to disagree with me about things. even if certain things bother me abt someone in fandom as long as we can still connect over something else it's usually not a deal breaker by any means. i favor blacklisting content and tags.

i will take writing/art/analysis requests

feel free to tag me in things, tag games, send posts/asks, or dm me! i take a sec to get back sometimes but i always try to anyway!

i’m fine with tdp crit, and i sometimes have my own (but it will always be tagged dw) ! + i kinda yap alot

co-creator of the aaravos cult discord B)

It’s tiny and while I’d say u gotta like aaravos generally please don’t ask to join if I/someone there doesn’t even know you, yk, is mutuals/friends with you!! that’s about it

find me here!!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/self_spaghettification Twitter: https://twitter.com/viiravos Tiktok: https://tiktok.com/@viiravos Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/viiravos C.AI: Aaravos Bot (39k chats) ->my thoughts on AI usage Discord: freefloatingtemporally

tagging system

all of my original posts are under the tag #self-spaghettification if you’d like to see what i think without scrolling thru rbs! (not all my thoughts are bangers. but hey, they’re there!)

i also very much enjoy organization so i tag everything i rb, so anything related to aaravos will be under #aaravos, any tdp theory will be under #tdp theory, and so on :)

analysis tags: tdp meta, tdp analysis, tdp theory, tdp speculation, tdp parallels, tdp s5 speculation, tdp s6 speculation

Foil/ non-shipping-relationship tags:

Claudia & Aaravos: starlight

Callum & Aaravos: caallum, keys

Misc: parallels

other big tags: #my art, #my writing, #my edit (s) my #aaravos playlist! #tdp poll ,,

stuff not always under my main tag: #q&a , #tag game & then general shit that is like #riley rambles and #spaghetti salt

i do have tdp s6 spoilers / leaks but they’re all tagged. if something’s not initially tagged it will be eventually

have a nice scroll! ❤️

new banner because these fuckers wont leave my brain and they don’t pay rent >:(

#blog preface #blog intro #all original posts under this tag:#self spaghettification #i also need to impliment a system that differentiates other people’s art/media from textposts #pinned post

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blackswaneuroparedux · 2 years ago

Text

Anonymous asked: It was primarily through your blog that I was introduced to the conservative philosophical thought of Sir Roger Scruton. You are the only blog to my knowledge that knows Scruton’s works inside out and communicate his ideas so clearly and with wit and intelligence. I’m currently going through the books on music he wrote. I admit I’m out of my depth reading The Aesthetics of Music. Please help! What does Scruton or indeed philosophers mean by aesthetics when it comes to music? I know this is a huge ask on such a big topic but if anyone can, I think you could.

I’m sure I’m not the only blog out there who post about the late Sir Roger Scruton’s works. I just post what I know and share what I can, and I make no claim to be an authoritative voice of his works. I did know Roger Scruton though. First as an admirer from afar, and then much later, having the privilege of meeting him on occasion such as a high table dinner in Cambridge or through other like-minded friends.

I think diving into Roger Scruton’s ‘The Aesthetics of Music’ (1999) is quite daunting even if you are familiar with his other works across aesthetics and politics and his conservative thought. It demands from the reader an above average understanding of two disciplines, music and philosophy, and is principally directed to his peers in academia. To some of his academic peers he represents the phenomenological-idealist perspective on music. I’m not quite how Scruton would see it but let’s not address that here. Indeed you don’t need to get bogged down in academic tiffs.

On the whole, Scruton, to his credit, never dumbs down in any of his other works and requires us to think harder than we’re used to. So don’t feel deflated but you have to learn what entry point into his works are best for you. His philosophical works on aesthetics are challenging to read because often we don’t possess the critical tools to unlock and understand concepts that are often misunderstood such as ‘beauty’ or ‘aesthetics’.

I would recommend anyone to start with his other works which may be a good introduction and an easier entry point to his thought on music. If you are a complete novice I would always start with ‘Beauty: a very short introduction’ (2010) which is an excellent primer to his thought on a range of topics. With regards to music itself I would then go onto ‘Music as art’ (2018) before moving onto ‘Understanding Music: Philosophy and Interpretation’ (2009) - a more challenging book. Of course you can also read his books on Wagner which also talks of aesthetics through Wagner’s operas in a more wider sense such as ‘The Ring of Truth’ (2016) and ‘Wagner’s Parsifal: The Music of Redemption’ (2020) - which also happens to be my favourite opera.

I honestly didn’t know where to start in answering your question because it’s such a huge and complicated subject. So I let it stew a bit at the back of my brain until I felt I could pen a few vaguely intelligible thoughts down for you. It’s not an ideal answer but it is an attempt. At the outset I’m not going to talk about Immanuel Kant because in a sense he got the ball rolling on the whole field of aesthetics. Not because I don’t like Kant, because I do, but because he takes up too much space here and I would never do him justice.

Let’s step back a bit and start with the idea of aesthetics first. Aesthetics is classically defined as the study of the beautiful in art. Thomas Henry Huxley, a Victorian biologist best remembered as ‘Darwin’s bulldog,’ set the definition as a list: a beauty in appearance, visual appeal, an experience, an attitude, a property of something, a judgment, and a process. This expanded meaning touches on the original Greek aisthesis, which deals with feelings and sensations. Aesthetics, in this sense, is not limited to the thing itself, but rather is a holistic term encompassing the focal point - the object, performance, atmosphere, etc. - and the experience of and response to that focal point.

However, Huxley’s elucidation, like many others, say some critics, suffers from an over-emphasis on beauty. While aesthetic engagement often involves perceptions of beauty, this is not the only (or even foremost) criterion of artistic merit. Art can be aesthetically satisfying without necessarily being “beautiful” in the conventional sense of eliciting pleasure.

Applied to music, aesthetics might be conceived as the relationship of music to the human senses. Rather than judging whether or not a composition is beautiful, or why one piece is more beautiful than another, attention shifts to the interplay between musical stimuli and the interior realm of sensations. The onus of appraisal moves from the cold tools of theoretical analysis to the auditor.

For some thinkers, this is the only appropriate location for aesthetic assessment. Nineteenth-century philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer argued that music taps into channels of pure emotions: “Music does not express this or that particular and definite joy, this or that sorrow or pain, or horror, or delight, or merriment, or peace of mind; but joy, sorrow, pain, horror, delight, merriment, peace of mind themselves, to a certain extent in the abstract, their essential nature, without accessories, and therefore without their motives.” T. H. Yorke Trotter, founder and principal of the London Academy of Music, echoed Schopenhauer in a 1907 lecture, stating that, while other art forms awaken ideas and images that act on the feelings, music directly stirs “dispositions which we translate by the vague terms, joy, sadness, serenity, etc.”

In this revised view, aesthetic value does not depend on the micro or macro features of a piece, per se, but on how one responds to those features. Emotional arousals are instant aesthetic judgments. It is no accident that the perceived qualities of a piece or passage mirror the responses induced: joyful, mournful, serene, and so forth. The intensity of the emotion might separate one piece from another, but the immediacy of the music - as Schopenhauer and Yorke described it - seems to defy such classifications. Among other things, integrating (or equating) aesthetics with emotions underscores the subjectivity of the topic, and highlights the interconnectedness and simultaneity of stimulus, experience, and evaluation.

When one talks about feelings and music we inevitably come to the issue of sound. Music is sound - or the gaps between it too if you want to be precise like famed Argentine pianist and conductor Daren Barenboim.

The raw materials of music include pitch, rhythm, durations, dynamics, texture and timbre. The deliberate ordering of these building blocks of sound and silence produces what we instantly recognise as a musical creation. To be sure, definitions of music vary from rigid to loose, and postmodern requirements are not always as stable or confined as conventional views. But, however far the envelope is stretched and however ambiguous music is made out to be, most of us can agree with seventeenth-century English churchman Thomas Fuller: “Music is nothing else but wild sounds civilised into time and tune.”

Understandably then, comments on the nature of music usually address its audibility: it is an art form directed at the ears. Our sense of hearing distinguishes between music and the other sounds that constantly bombard us. The very concept of music derives from and depends upon our faculty of perceiving sound. Yet it can be argued that the ears are merely the necessary entry point. As soon as we are made aware of music, it is translated into mood, memory and movement. As poet Wallace Stevens eloquently wrote: “Music is feeling, then, not sound.”

The listener’s response to specific music will vary in type and intensity. She might feel very hopeful, a little bit sad, extremely calm, slightly anxious, and so on. These reactions may or may not be the intention of the composer or performer, and may change according to when and where the piece is heard. But in almost every instance, human perception converts music into feeling. Perhaps the clearest evidence of this is how we typically portray music. We most often fixate on music’s experiential properties, or its “personality.” Anthropomorphic qualities are freely projected upon a piece: charming, aggressive, warm, tender, brutish, exuberant, consoling, frustrating, etc. This is partly because of the difficulty of identifying and discussing music’s formal properties. But it is mainly because the formal properties are but a means to an end. When we call a composition happy, we are basically saying that it makes us feel happy. The resulting emotion is so dominant that it becomes the character of the music. Priority is given to effect over sound.

In some sense, music can be thought of as a delivery system for emotional content. We do not experience music so much as we experience ourselves experiencing music. Our ears funnel the sound to a deeper layer of our being, a layer where sound is made significant. Of course, not all music is equally effective and not every listener is equally moved by musical stimuli. But even the most literate musicians and harshest critics will admit, readily or reluctantly, that music is predominantly about emotions. It only begins as sound.

And now we come to Roger Scruton. Scruton ask the basic question if music is sound can it also be a language?

Scruton’s gives illuminating illustrations to address this question. For example, he writes about one episode that under the Stalinist regime, the last movements of Tchaikovsky’s 6th Symphony were often reversed in order to bring the work to a triumphal, rather than despairing, conclusion. The reason that listeners find this reversal unsatisfactory, says Roger Scruton, is that the third movement cannot be heard as an answer to the fourth. But why does its failure to respond seem wrong? Why should we even expect to hear it as an answer? And should we describe the Sixth Symphony as an expression of Tchaikovsky’s despair, an evocation of its listeners’ despair, or the depiction of despair in general?

Such questions, never satisfactorily answered, trouble musical aestheticians, and are tackled by Scruton’s impressive range across music, philosophy, and cultural aesthetics. His quest begins with the rudimentary but difficult question ‘what is a sound?’ and, using musical illustrations, builds up through music’s aspects to its place in morality and culture. Sounds, Scruton argues, are ‘pure events’, which do not happen to any thing. Unlike colours, tastes and textures with which they are often classed, sounds are emitted by, but not inherent in, what produces them. But whereas with a nonmusical sound we may often hear it as what produced it (for instance, ‘hear a car’ or ‘hear a bell’), a musical tone is quite cut free from its causal moorings. We hear it not as ‘someone playing the oboe over there’ and ‘someone playing the violin a few feet away’ but as part of a musical gestalt. Each note seems to be engendered by its precursor and rightly to respond to it “as though indifferent to the world of physical causes.”

Similarly we hear notes as higher and lower, rising and falling, and the melody moves from its beginning to its end. Yet where could the movement of pitch and melody occur? We refer to material sounds, yet under a description that no material sounds could satisfy, and to abandon these metaphors is to abandon discussion of music, which cannot dispense with them.

Music does not fit into a scientific account of the world, any more than a smile does, but is part of the world as we live it, and even of a world beyond contingency. For, says Scruton, in the inexorable necessity by which “each note requires its successor” we glimpse true freedom – the ‘causality of reason’ which belongs to rational action, the ‘transcendental unity’ of our scattered selves. And in gaining “a first-person perspective on a life that is no one’s”, we enter a ‘dance of sympathy’ with others.

This abstract, mystical argument is a gradually accumulating motif through Scruton’s concrete technical examples. As usual his wistful mysticism is accompanied by slashing ‘take no prisoners’ attacks - on the Marxist reductionism that would degrade the last five centuries of European music to an accident of power relations, on how ‘early music’ authenticity only fossilises and obscures the music it purports to reconstruct, on sentimentality and cliché.

All of which he is right and I’ve never come across a Marxist or far left leaning cultured aesthete to argue otherwise - if anyone knows of any I would be grateful to them for pointing them out to me as I want to be open to contrarian views. But to be honest, I’ve not seen anything to refute what Scruton’s says how Marxism cultural thought reduces art and culture to mere power relations. It’s like they have a one lens to see the world and it blinds them to nuance and complexity as only true conservatives are apt to see and then lament.

Which brings me nicely to where all this is going in terms of real world stakes and consequences . Like Plato, Scruton sees music as an important moulder of, and index to, a culture’s moral character. He has written movingly how much he laments the way tonality is no longer available to composers in our current spiritual condition, and the loss of exclusive standards of taste which, paradoxically, enabled a universality of allusiveness. He mourns the decay of aristocratic culture, the rampancy of anomie and consumerism. Instead we’re left with cheap disposable music as quickly consumed as a McDonald’s meal. He has described Mary J Blige’s “Get to Know You Better” that its limited melody is “emphasised by the yukky 13th chords and droopy vamping which open the piece, with a sound that suggests someone trying carefully to puke into a wine glass.” Ouch.

I personally think he has a point but I still think he doesn’t appreciate what other musical art forms such as jazz (which I love) can also reach the heights of aesthetic beauty. I would say the same for 70s rock music (Led Zeppelin for example) and other forms of music. I would consider myself less militant than Scruton in that regard but at the same time I understand where he is coming from.

All this may sound (pardon the pun) like the grumblings of Scruton as a curmudgeonly old man charting the passing of a decaying Western civilisation, but if music is a language then how much more we are blasé about losing local languages and dialects - even within one country - that were once thriving and spoken but now are either dead or dying.

Elsewhere in his writings he laments the triumph of American-English that is almost complete. Of course the merit of English as a global language is that it enables people of different countries to converse and do business with each other. But languages are not only a medium of communication, which enable nation to speak unto nation. They are also repositories of culture and identity.

In many countries the all-engulfing advance of English threatens to damage or destroy much local culture. This is sometimes lamented even in England itself, for though the language that now sweeps the world is called English, the culture carried with it is increasingly American. Native English-speakers, however, are becoming less competent at other languages: only nine students graduated in Arabic from universities in the United States last year, and the British are the most monoglot of all the peoples of the EU. Thus the triumph of English not only destroys the tongues of others; it also isolates native English-speakers from the literature, history and ideas of other peoples. It is, in short, a thoroughly dubious triumph.

How much is more true with classical music as a language that also preserves and embodies cultural history and national identity when we compare it to the disposability of modern commodified pop music.

Scruton’s works are not for the faint hearted. He can be priggish and abrasive, but often with wit and style. But Scruton is always thought provoking and intellectually provocative. But even Scruton with his undoubted experience in both music and philosophy isn’t any closer to providing solutions to age old aesthetic questions of what is music. I suspect Roger Scruton wouldn’t want to be the final voice but invite us to add our own voice to these interesting questions of beauty and aesthetics in music.

Thanks for your question

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