#and the relationship between the two other characters can go in so many different directions.

[scribefindegil]

I love love love when there are two characters who have nothing in common except their shared undying devotion to a different character. Working together not because they care about each other but because they both care about this other character SO MUCH. Relationship defined by intense devotion but not to each other. It's sooooo tasty give me one million versions of this please.

[ddollipop]

CURB THIS SICKNESS. . . ! — ( SOFT YANDERE!PLAGUE DOCTOR OC X READER. )

#. synopsis! — there's a virus outside that's snuffed out the lights of many. . . and lucian refuses to let you meet such a miserable fate .

#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , multiple orgasms , vaginal fingering , implications of paranoia , cum swallowing , oral sex , cunnilingus , blowjob , vaginal sex , obsessive behavior , frequent usage of endearment terms (love, darling, angel) , missionary position , bathing , established relationship , slight choking , slight hair pulling , creampie , biting .

#. word count! — 5.1k .

#. oc carrd! — click here to find more information on lucian + other original characters of mine that i might write for in the future! xx .

When the virus began to spread in all directions from its alleged location of origin, —you were certain you’d be dead before winter. If not from sickness, then certainly from another disease, or at the hands of some twisted maniac just searching for someone to slaughter that nobody would care enough to miss. You thought it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to hunger or thirst or the changing chill of autumn, or maybe something completely different: but something was bound to happen, and you were sure of it.

And it did. . . But it was nothing like what you had in mind.

Lucian may have seemed like something out of a horror story passed down through generations, still clad in his working attire the night he scooped you up in his arms from a shabby alleyway like a stray kitten, but he was surprisingly gentle (and perhaps unusually quiet.) He wasn’t very talkative, but he cared for you in a way you were completely unaccustomed to, —prepared you a warm meal, brewed you chamomile tea, ran you a hot bath, and gave you a place to sleep for the night. He said you were slightly fevered and a bit malnourished, but all things considered, it could have been worlds worse.

“You’re lucky,” he hummed, a gloved hand smoothing over your jaw, “the pestilence hasn’t taken hold of you.”

Even back then, that wasn’t why you felt lucky. . . No, much to the contrary, you felt lucky because this man had taken you in without expecting anything of you in return, and he sought to keep you safe from the rot of the outside world. Thus, little by little, you stopped caring much about going out there. 

His place is a bit quaint for two, but it’s homey, and it smells perpetually of lavender. Over time, he’s shifted the sleeping arrangements, and now you rest in his arms each night; about as close as one can get to being a lover without having the label.

A part of you is sure you could get it if you asked, but to you, it doesn’t matter much. At the end of each day, he comes home to you, and that’s what counts. You take care of the housework while he’s away (not that there’s ever much to do.) For as odd as he is, his living space is free of most things, —no trinkets unrelated to his work (which you are not keen on touching), and he’s meticulous about picking up after himself and keeping all his items in order, so your unofficial duties are few and far between. Otherwise, the rest boils down to cooking meals, washing clothes, and keeping yourself entertained while he’s away. . . Like some kind of glorified trophy wife.

And sure, this will probably get old eventually, but for now, this is what you’re working with. He likes to have you close and to know where you are, —to know that you’re safe and not out getting infected by anyone or anything. If you’re at his home, you’re safe from all the filth of the outside world, and heaven knows it’s so nice to come home and lie next to a body so utterly unmarred by the grime of society.

You’re sure once the virus has stilled, he’ll ease up.

But tonight is not that night. Lucian all but stumbles through the door, and you can hear his rapid breathing through the long, beak-like shape of his mask. He seems startled and frantic, and you rush over, a concerned expression crossing your features.

“Lucian? Are you alright?” You ask, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

In an instant, he snatches your wrist and grabs for the other, holding one in either hand. His grip is fervent, but far from painful, and you become more confused the longer he goes without explaining the state he’s found himself in.

“Lucian—”

“Darling,” he cuts you off, “you mustn’t get near the door.”

“Okay,” you nod in compliance, “but why?”

“The pestilence has taken hold of this city,” he replies. “The air out there, you wouldn’t believe the thickness of that putrid aroma. It’s suffocating.”

Before you can ask if there’s something you can do to quench his worries, he tugs you away from the entrance and into the bathroom. He removes his gloves and sets them aside, reaching down to begin running a warm bath. Then he looks to you, almost expectantly.

“Strip, please,” he encourages, —saying it like he’s desperate for the act, albeit not necessarily under the context you’d prefer of him.

“Lucian—”

“Darling,” he hisses, “please, do as I ask of you.”

His bare hands cup your cheeks.

“Please,” he repeats.

It’s hard to deny him when he asks like that and has been so good to you, and it’s not as if he’s asking for a lot. He’s just having a bad night, and if scrubbing yourself down will help ease his mind a bit, you’re willing to put in that sliver of extra effort for his sake.

Lucian sighs in relief as you begin to disrobe.

“Thank you,” he comments. “I really don’t have a clue what I’d do if you fell ill. . . I don’t think my heart could handle such a thing.”

You slip the last of your clothing off and step gingerly into the filling tub. It’s not long enough to stretch out in, so you bunch yourself up neatly to fit the space and look up at him once more.

“I feel fine,” you assure.

“I’m glad,” he replies. “Even so, it’s much better to air on the side of caution. The human body is a dangerously fickle thing, and it can be incredibly fragile. I’ve seen as much firsthand more times than I can count. In its infancy, this virus is little more than a common cold, but progresses into something fatal at a rapid pace.”

You simply nod as he kneels next to the tub, rolling his sleeves up.

“Your breathing is ragged, Lucian,” you state, “you should take that mask off and get some fresh air.”

“After,” he answers quickly.

He reaches for the half-used lavender soap bar and lathers it on his palms, then reaches out to smooth the suds over your arms and neck. His motions are a little rough and all too urgent. This is far from the first time he’s accompanied you for a bath, but it is the first time he’s ever done so and been this aggressive in his approach (if only as a result of his own anxiety.)

For the time being, he seems to avoid your breasts, instead reaching for one of your legs to hike it up out of the water. He repeats this process with the other, cleaning you until he seems satisfied. When he makes no move to revisit your chest, you take the soap from his hand and lather it yourself, placing it in its previous spot before leaning back slightly and allowing your hands to travel where you’d have liked for his to go.

Lucian watches but doesn’t touch. Your fingertips nudge at your nipples, feeling them harden under the minstrations, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth. If nothing else, he should be getting the hint by now.

Surprisingly, you’ve never had sex with him in all the months you’ve spent curled up in his arms, sleeping in his bed. He’s watched you take care of yourself on a number of occasions, has helped with his fingers another few times, —and allowed you to wrap your hand around him once a few weeks prior; but anything beyond that has seemed to be off limits. You’ve chalked it up to his shyness, or perhaps his distaste for human contact as a result of the pestilence; but tonight feels distinctly different.

Even in his previous state of frazzlement, Lucian seems all too content to sit back and watch you fondle your own breasts, soapy fingers clutching and releasing in tandem. You’ve always liked for him to watch you do things like this. Though his mask obscures the view of his face, you just know his eyes are trained on you, soaking up every movement, and you like to think he’s drooling at the way you grope yourself for his enjoyment (and for your own.)

“Lucian?” You prompt, half-lidded eyes glancing over to him.

His shoulders straighten as you say his name.

“You’re very beautiful,” he says, words almost too muffled by the mask to be made out.

“You think so?” You smirk a bit.

“I do.”

Ah, but that’s nothing new, and it’s nothing he hasn’t shared with you before. On the very night he took you in and washed your hair, he smoothed his gloved hands against your scalp and mumbled about how pretty you looked, even with dirt still caked on your skin. Even covered in filth from the alleyways you’d been sleeping in, he thought you were nothing less than stunning, —a real vision to behold, and he’s never skimped on such compliments.

You pause for a moment, reaching out to grasp for his hands. He allows the gesture, though he seems a bit confused, leaning in closer to the rim of the tub as you position him to your liking.

“Do you think I feel feverish?” You inquire, placing one of his hands on your neck and another on one of your breasts.

He makes no move to pull away, firming his grip up almost instantaneously, as if he’s been itching to feel you this way.

“Perhaps a bit warm,” he mumbles, taking a moment to roll your nipple between two nimble fingers, “but body temperature is known to rise during times of. . .” he trails off, clears his throat, then utters: “arousal.”

You trail your nails down his arm, letting your head tip back again. His hands are a bit calloused, but they feel so good against your skin, and you let a few moans slip past your lips. It’s not often he touches you like this without his gloves on, but the flesh-on-flesh contact is electrifying.

“Not to worry you, but I do feel a bit strange,” you huff slightly.

Through the slightly tinted bath water, Lucian can still watch your hand as it travels between your thighs.

“I’m just a throbbing mess,” you hum, giving him a pointed stare; “but you’ll take care of me. . . Right, Doctor?”

It may just be your imagination, but you could swear you heard his breathing shudder at that request. You’ve never been this forward with him, but something apart from the facial expression that’s still hidden away tells you that he likes where this is going. His fingers clamp down on the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to make taking in air a bit more of a struggle, but not anywhere near hard enough to be fatal.

The bit about being a throbbing mess was by no means an exaggeration on your part, so you take matters into your own fingers for the time being, drawing circles on your clit beneath the water.

“Of course,” he finally finds the voice to agree, “—I’d do anything to keep you from feeling unwell.”

That is what you like to hear.

“Anything?”

“Anything.” 

His grip tightens on your throat again, for emphasis, and with that, he seems to come slightly undone.

“Darling, that’s why I’ve demanded you stay here in my home, —our home. It’s safe here, free of contaminants and filth and anything that could cause you harm,” he says, the words spilling out like he’s been holding them back since he first set his sights on you.

“The world outside is ill, not just this rotten city. I’m working tirelessly to combat this pestilence, but as things stand now, the safest place you can be is here. With me. You understand that, my love. . . Don’t you?”

You’re only half listening, but you nod in agreement anyway. Whatever he’s saying, you trust his opinion on the matter.

“Of course,” you gasp, almost slipping a finger inside yourself to the tune of his melodic voice.

“I knew you would,” he continues, loosening the grip on your neck again. “You know I only want what’s best for you, that everything I do is to ensure your safety, —to eliminate the possibility of you ever falling sick.”

“Of course,” you repeat, head growing cloudier by the minute. “You’ve always taken such good care of me, right from the very beginning.”

God, he’s so elated that you’re seeing things his way. The way this makes him feel is almost too much to handle.

“I try so hard, darling, I truly do,” he says, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks.

“Please, Lucian,” you mumble desperately, “I need you tonight.”

He complies, shedding his long coat and draping it over your shoulders once you’ve stepped out of the tub. The chill of the air against your wet skin leaves your nipples hard and sensitive, and as he leads you to the bedroom, you hope he realizes just what it is you’re asking for. His fingers are a plentiful start, and you just know they’ll feel so good stuffed inside you, curling to hit all the right places, —but they’re nothing compared to the cock he’s stingily hidden away for all this time.

Tonight, you want him in all his glory in the glow of the lanterns on the walls. You want to strip him bare and gag on the length between his thighs, feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth, tease every vein that runs up his shaft. It’s not enough to grind against him while you’re half asleep or hump his clothed thigh until you’ve left his pants damp and your pussy sopping, just begging to be fucked by this man who might just love you more than he could ever fear any virus that lurks outside these walls.

“Don’t fret,” he tells you, though it sounds more like a command than a gesture to soothe any worries, “just lie back. I’ll be sure to give you. . . A proper examination.”

You could cum just hearing that.

With half your body pressed against the headboard and his coat nearly slipping off your body completely, he sets to work in his underclothes and mask. It’s by no means an uncommon sight, but there’s something distinct about him this late evening; the way his black attire contrasts so beautifully with the stark paleness of his skin and the mystery it shrouds him in that you’re just dying to sink your teeth into. Everything hidden beneath that cautious wardrobe and that long mask. . . You’ve gotta have it. It’s a necessity.

His fingers, ungloved, begin softly with your calves, tracing senseless lines.

“I’m not so fragile,” you remind him.

For as oblivious as he can be, Lucian takes the hint, and by the time he’s reached your thighs, he’s content to give them the same treatment as your throat.

The way he splits you apart is almost painfully clinical, a thumb on either side of your lips, peering through the eye holes of his mask to admire the way your folds glisten in the orange lantern light. A few prodding strokes leave you biting your lip again, body waning in anticipation for the moment he finally turns his hand over and sinks the longest of his fingers inside you, —slowly, but deliberately. It’s impossible to see his expression, but you hope his mouth hangs open a little at the way your cunt suckles on his finger, encouraging him to prod more and maybe stuff another few inside for you to grind against.

There’s something about the warmth of his fingers that gets you off almost in equal amounts to the way he moves. Another finger inside, and you whine, halfway to an orgasm from this alone.

He’s not particulary rough in his execution, but there’s a clean meticulousness in every movement that leaves every cell in your body craving more, begging for anything he can offer. Months upon months of wanting, of dropping hints, of hoping he’d catch on and finally see things your way, —and at last, you’ve made it. And now that you’re here, you’re content to simply lie still and let him have his way with you.

“Please don’t stop,” you beg, nearly choking on the words when the tips of his fingers brush just the right spot.

“Before you’re satisfied?” He sits forward a bit, resting his free hand on your stomach to press you down onto the bed. “Darling, I couldn’t fathom it.”

You will your upper body forward, grabbing for the hand on your stomach to move it up to your throat. He squeezes, scissoring the fingers inside you, watching closely as your body shakes and your eyes roll back a bit in ecstasy.

“I’ve tried,” he says to you suddenly. “I’ve tried so desperately to be gentle with you.”

You smile.

“I appreciate that,” you answer. “But I don’t want you to be gentle at the moment.”

“That’s a dangerous request, my love,” he warns.

God, you hope so.

You reach forward and grab at the beak of his mask, pulling it upward gently until it begins to slip off and reveal the handsome face underneath. Dark hair, dark eyes, but skin almost pale enough to be sickly, you meet his gaze just long enough to ask for permission, then lean in to kiss him on the mouth. It’s the first time, and it’s electric. He’s avoided this for months, —avoided your mouth, your unspoken pleas, all the passes you made for the sake of keeping himself at bay. But here you are now with two of his fingers stuffed inside you, his hand on your throat, and your lips slotted against his own.

“Please,” you murmur, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

And you can feel the restraints of his mind come unwound.

He’s no longer gentle in the way he fucks you silly with his fingers, hammering them over and over and over again into that delicious spot buried deep inside you, squeezing your throat hard enough to cut your breathing off. The way your pussy spasms as you cum is blissful, and he loves the way your arousal soaks his digits, loves the way your back arches, soundless moans spilling forth as he makes you orgasm.

“I fucking tried,” he says again.

It’s almost manic, so desperate and sort of pathetic in the kind of way that turns you on. This is the first time you’ve ever heard him curse, and it dawns on you that even the filthiest of words sound so unendingly elegant when they’re spoken by Lucian.

“I tried to be gentle. I tried to keep you safe here, —to shelter you from whatever forsaken wasteland remains out there,” he insists, his fingers still buried in your twitching cunt. “I just wanted to protect you.”

He lightens the grip on your throat as you lean in to kiss him again, cupping his face in your hands.

“You have,” you assure him.

“You take such good care of me, Lucian,” you mumble into his ear. “Let me show you how grateful I am.”

The fingers stuffed inside you slowly slip out, and reach for his hand, guiding them to your lips, taking his digits into your mouth to taste yourself on them. He watches with hunger and interest as you clean him with your tongue. He leans in to kiss you to get a taste of it himself, grasping your hair near the scalp and taking a fistful hard enough to make you gasp.

“I can’t let you leave,” he murmurs. “It’s not safe out there. When this pestilence has been subdued, I’ll do this all correctly. We can start from the beginning, and I’ll be a gentleman.”

“I look forward to it,” you answer softly.

“You’ll stay until then?” He inquires.

He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to care when you just want him inside you. Lucian has seen death day in and day out, —so it’s no wonder it feels like it permeates everything around him. He just doesn’t want you to suffer such a fate, and you’re confident that you won’t, as long as he’s yours.

“Of course I will,” you answer.

It’s like something primal takes over. Suddenly his lips are on yours in a bruising kiss, and his hands are grasping roughly at your breasts, pushing you down onto the bed as he crawls between your legs. He pauses, hovering just above your dripping cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the meat of your thigh. It makes you squeal a bit, and he kisses the teethmarks he left behind as if in apology.

You can’t help but wonder how long he’s been yearning for this. It’s like every part of him is thrumming from the thrill of it all, and this man who has previously refused to even kiss you on the mouth is now stationed exactly where you want him, tongue lolling out to lick a solid stripe up your folds. He laps like a man starved, then spreads you apart with his thumbs to suck your clit mercilessly.

It’s good enough to make your vision go blurry, and you can’t seem to form proper words through the haze. Desperately, your fingers claw at the sheets of this mattress, and he moans against your hot cunt, sending a vibration rippling through your core that makes your back arch on instinct. You mumble something that comes out like gibberish, pussy convulsing against the flat of his tongue.

His arm comes round to press your hips down, forcing you to be still. It’s the kind of toruture you’re sure you’ll learn to live for. There’s only so much you can wriggle under his arm, which has a surprising amount of force despite his rather lanky stature.

From what little friction you manage as you attempt to grind against his tongue, you tip yourself over the edge and as the knot in your stomach unties for the second time tonight, he continues licking, lapping at the juices that spill forth.

He stands and reaches for the top button of his shirt, not bothering to wipe his face, chin and lips glistening with your aftermath. You watch him undress with lustful eyes, propping yourself up on your elbow, then slinking back against the headboard once again, resting your weary body against it. The quiver of your thighs doesn’t stop you from nudging at your swollen clit.

“I wanted to be a gentleman,” he comments, untucking the shirt from his pants and pulling the front open.

It’s not skin you haven’t seen before. In fact, you’ve seen every inch of him at one point or another; just never all at once, and now, you’re waiting with bated breath to see him completely exposed for your eyes only.

“I truly did. I wanted to give you comfort and security, —to love you as you deserve. And I knew from the moment I saw you that only I could give you exactly what you’ve always needed.”

You hum in acknowledgement as he continues to strip himself bare.

“But it’s so clear to me now that I’ve neglected you,” he continues. “This beautifully desperate display is all a result of my negligence. . . I failed to realize just how much you needed me like this. How much you needed the touch of a man. . .”

He sounds apologetic, but your eyes are fixated on his half-hard cock. The last time you saw it, he asked that you keep your mouth away; insisting it wasn’t sanitary to use it for such purposes, terrified that you might contract some sort of illness if you sucked his dick for the sheer enjoyment of doing so. This time, however, you have a feeling you’re well past that.

To test the waters, you let your hand fall away from your cunt, slipping off the side of the bed to kneel before him. He gazes down at you as you open your lips and let your tongue fall out, encouraging him to make what he will of it.

“My love,” he says, placing four fingers under your chin to rest his thumb against your tongue for a moment, “—I’ll make everything up to you. . .”

His free hand pumps his cock once, twice, thrice, —then he places it gently on the flat of your tongue, letting you feel the weight and the warmth of it. He sighs.

“Darling,” he groans, “ah. . .”

It takes very little for him to come close to cumming in your mouth, just a few minutes of sucking him off, listening to him moan, feeling him quiver at your touch. You hum with his member stuffed down your throat, and he cants his hips reflexively, an orgasm bubbling up beneath his skin.

Your non-dominant hand holds his cock steady while the other is stuck between your thighs, rubbing furiously at your clit, making you whimper along his shaft. When he notices, Lucian finds that wholly unacceptable and snatches you up to position you on the edge of the bed, relieving the pressure on your aching knees. You weren’t down there for long, but kneeling was hardly comfortable on the hard floor.

He spreads your thighs apart and smacks the pads of his fingers against your slit.

Whatever he’s doing, you’re sure you’ll enjoy it to the fullest, so you occupy yourself with his cock again from this new angle, bending awkwardly to mouth at the reddened tip. His fingers find their way inside you once more, working their delicate magic, brushing against all the right places. At this point, you’re more desperate for his dick to slip inside you like this, but you take what he offers in stride (and more of him into your mouth in the process.)

He’s vocal, and that’s utterly divine. His gravely moans and the pump of his fingers leave you cumming for a third time before his first orgasm arises, depositing a sizable amount of his seed into your mouth.

“I love you,” he huffs, —and if he were anyone else, you’d be certain it was just the oral sex talking, but no. . . Lucian wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it.

Of course, he’s made similar confessions over the months, and has certainly treated you like it long before he ever expressed it so directly, but still. . . It feels nice to hear it, if nothing else.

“I love you too,” you answer honestly, urging him closer with your arms wrapped around his neck. “I’m yours tonight, completely. . . If you’ll have me. . .”

“Oh, darling, don’t be foolish,” he remarks, kissing you deeply. “You’ve been mine since the moment we met.”

Your back to the cool sheets, he lingers over you now, his shadow looming over you so monstrously. There’s a stark flush of red on his face that has begun to spread down the length of his neck, and one of his hands finds its way to your breasts as the other smoothes across your thigh. The head of his cock kisses your sopping entrance, sending a series of chills from the top of your spine to the bottom.

His breath on your neck makes your chest tighten, and he finds your lips with his own again as he sinks inside you, filling you up.

“Lucian,” you whimper, helpless to his touch as he pauses, buried down to the hilt inside your cunt.

He presses a few gentle kisses to your throat, murmuring something about how nice it feels to be stuffed inside you. He feels your nails dig into his shoulders as you adjust to his intrusion.

“You must understand by now,” he says, mumbling the words right next to your bitten earlobe. “Everything I do is for you.”

“I do,” you gasp slightly. 

As he begins to move, your walls clench around him, and he exhales deeply against the junction of your neck and shoulder. You roll your hips to match his pace, but as he goes faster, that becomes fruitless. Eventually, you resign yourself to the fate of lying there against the pillows, speared on his cock, him making a mess of you as you moan uncontrollably.

This was everything you’d been hoping for and then some, like some erotic dream come to life. Lucian’s lips travel where they please, —stopping to peck at your jaw, then to suck on your throat. Your breathing is haggard, and he smooths a hand down your side, resting it against your hip for a moment.

“Just a little more,” he whispers, as if to be reassuring.

“Just look how stunning you are, angel,” he murmurs, “how pretty you look like this.”

He kisses you once more.

“You take this so well, like your body was made for me.”

You’re delirious enough to believe that might be the case.

His cock pounds a little harder, and he hits the perfect spot, tearing a desperate yelp from your throat. You’re overstimulated and weak, but your high is itching just under your skin, and you couldn’t bear to see it disappear.

“Please,” you whimper to him, completely at his mercy, “—please, I’m so close.”

He loves the desperation that clings to your voice. The hand on your hip travels to your clit, pressing roughly against the abused little button, making you jerk slightly. He rubs a few heavy circles against it, and you come undone, cunt spasming around his cock as he chases his own release inside you.

Lucian is sloppy near the end, which may just be the only time you’ve ever known him to not be perfectly calculated and precise. His breath hits your neck again, over and over as he huffs through the hunt, finally sinking his teeth in when he comes to a finish. His cum sits hot inside your cunt, and he catches his breath for a moment, head resting against your throat.

“I apologize,” he utters. “I hope that wasn’t too much for you.”

You exhale slowly, his cock still buried in your heat.

“Don’t apologize,” you murmur, “I enjoyed myself.”

You feel him smile against your neck.

“I’m glad, darling.”

For the first time, he sleeps next to you without clothing, letting you touch every part of him, tangling your limbs together. Your face buried in the crook of his neck, breath fanning softly against him, as close to sleep as you can manage without tumbling over the precipice, Lucian reaches for his long coat and drapes it over your body, holding you closer.

[almayver]

Dome decided to share a bit of the PP Bible!!! (All the text is thanks to google translate, sorry) (This is LONG)

Part I - What is the Bible? This is what Phi O taught Dome. It is a tool that helps the team see the overall picture of the project. Sometimes, just the script may not be enough for the team to see the picture or see the direction of the work that Dome will direct. So this was created. It will consist of many things, from mood & tone, color scheme, cinematography style, etc., which are quite detailed. For example, the color scheme, Dome has to divide it. In the actual film and the promotional work or graphic work, they must have different colors. This is due to communication reasons and the chosen direction. But the main thing is mostly personal preference.

PART II 📒 Storytelling - To make it easier for the team to understand the 12 episodes of ON SALE within 10 minutes during the first meeting (if we read the script ourselves, it would take at least a day or two), Dome summarized the whole story for the team to see.

📒 Genre - What type of movie is Haunted House? Phi O forced us to choose only 3 types. At that time, Dome chose Heartwarming Spooky Comedy. At first, he used the word Scary, but Phi O said, "Isn't it that scary?" Let's change the word. — The main reason for dividing the movie types clearly was so that the team could understand each other that, "Hey, Phi, this movie actually has many more genres than that." So we had to divide the percentages. When writing a script or working on different parts and feeling confused about the mood and tone, try to look back at this pie chart so that you can find the right path. The actual result was not exactly the same. Drama 5% like this, is that right? 5555

📒 Logline - The synopsis or you can call it a plot. In the Thai film industry, it is used in a confusing way in each place. The assignment that Dome gave himself was How to tell it concisely, to make it understandable. After reading it, I felt like I wanted to watch this movie. I can tell the type of movie completely in one logline.

📒 Archetype - Brother O asked me to summarize the haunted house in 3 concrete ways, which must tell the story of the movie as much as possible and also have some abstract meanings hidden in it. Dome ended up summarizing 3 things. The first is Haunted House, which I argued with Brother O again about what kind of haunted house you have, a real haunted house or a haunted house in an amusement park. Well, it must be a haunted house in an amusement park. It meets the comedy requirement more. — The next is Bro, Homie. When our main characters are Home and Peach, it is a relationship between men who are not romantically in love like a couple. But that's it. When it is done, it becomes a male friendship that is suspicious until it ends up like that. I blame Brother Taynew too. 5555 Just kidding. — The last one is Dinner Table because it feels like a concrete, warm Asian style.

📒 Story Arc - The act of the movie. How many acts will this movie have that clearly divide the proportions of where the story is going now? And where will it end? Dome divides it into 4 main lines — the first line is Outer, what is the story, which property, what ghosts did you encounter? — The next line is Inner, going into a bit more detail, adding in the character's feelings, what is the main mission of the episode, what is the end result of the episode? — The last two lines are a summary of the act of the film, what is the Theme and which direction is the film taking the audience?

PART III 📒 Character - Who are our 4 main characters? What do they do? What kind of people are they? Dome has summarized them briefly and clearly. Plus, as a nerd (pretending to be smart), I happened to read The Eight Characters of Comedy by Scott Sedita. The summary is that he teaches how to write 8 types of comedy characters. No matter what situation or equation you put in, if there are characters like this together, there should be some comedy. If you are a nerd, try reading it. Dome has used this until it became a muscle for the 7 years since he started this career.

📒 Chemistry - Once we saw the images of the 4 main characters, let's summarize the chemical equation of this ghostbusting gang a bit. Use the principles of MBTI and Cognitive Function to make it easier to understand. This slide was used since the pilot was filmed because Dome and the actors did not have the opportunity to workshop before filming. At that time, I showed it to P'Ten, New, Muk, and Jan so that they could understand each other immediately in the limited time.

📒 Costume - Make a rough guide for the costume team to see that How does Dome see the characters dress? What kind of look do they wear? Do they wear accessories? What are their personal items? What color do they like to wear? When the costumers see it, they can develop it further. On the costume side, they will continue to make something called a Costume book, which is a costume bible specifically. It goes into great detail. For example, today Home will wear this outfit and this color because Home feels this way right now. It is consistent with the story in this episode. And there is also an overview of each EP. Do they go together? — The real Costume book takes many days to make, choosing the details of each outfit and each episode. And there are many outfits that were not used in the story because there was no place to put them. What a shame, lol.

All of these are just examples from the 4 main characters. We haven’t included supporting characters, guest characters, and ghosts in the story. So, multiply the three topics above. How many more characters are there? How many more pages do we need to make? (Bragging again)

PART IV 📒 Episode bible - If you have read this far, everyone should understand the benefits of making a bible. Each episode needs to make a separate bible for each episode. That means you have to go back and do it from PART I to PART III for each episode. It is not strange that there are more than a hundred slides. In conclusion, the team that criticizes is tired. 5555 Just kidding.

Apart from the Direction bible, other teams also have their own separate bibles, such as the Ghost bible, which is a bible that is purely about ghosts in the story. For example, who the ghosts are, what they look like, what is the cause of death? — The Food bible is a bible of all the food in the story, what menus are there, how to cook the food, etc. — Each team makes their own bible in detail so that everyone can understand and see the same picture as much as possible. This doesn't even mention the Cinematography, Art Direction, Location, Extra characters, etc. There are so many more. It is so detailed. Just thinking about it makes me discouraged. 5555

That's all for bragging. Anyway, thank you very much to everyone who read up to this point 🥳

PS. Recorded on NOV 14, 2024. If any knowledge is wrong, I'll be honest. It's Dome's knowledge and understanding at this time. If it causes anyone any inconvenience, I apologize. 🙏🏽

[kradogsrats]

Revisiting the Arc 2 Opening

So particularly @raayllum had done some detailed analysis and predictions based on the comparison of Viren and Callum's variant arc 2 openings, but I want to return in the post-s6 space now that we have Claudia's opening as a third point of comparison because that addition has an impact on how the original two relate to one another and what each one is saying.

The basic sequence of each opening is the same: from the initial star-map zoom (associated with destiny/time-blind vision of future events) the camera circles the principal character, placed at the celestial Sea of the Castout, as they turn to stone. Aaravos's giant hand swoops down and plucks up the statue, now contextualized by size as a pawn or other game piece, to admire from within his prison with a satisfied smile.

The most important point to understand about this sequence is that Aaravos doesn't personally turn Viren, Callum, and Claudia to stone, but is able to capture and manipulate them as pawns because of it:

This doesn't seem like much of a distinction at all, particularly because the petrification that results in Aaravos's satisfied claim on each mage is a representation of dark magic, which is... what allows Aaravos to influence/control those who resort to using it.

We get the direct link between the heart, dark magic, and Aaravos's influence/control explicitly spelled out by s6, and (as many noticed before)... go figure, in all three openings the corruption petrification begins at the heart.

Now, Callum is actually the only one who knows explicitly about the connection between dark magic and influence/control by Aaravos. Viren has sort of intuited it by the end of s5, in that we can see by portions of his dream that he's aware on at least a subconscious level that he was not in his right mind during at least the latter half of s3. This is why the distinction between the petrification being a factor allowing Aaravos's control, rather than an effect of it, is important—the conflicts and dynamics being represented are more complex than that. For example: Viren's opening, it turns out, isn't about Aaravos at all.

That's a Reach

When the primary arc 2 opening, featuring Viren, was revealed as part of the lead-up to the s4 release, there was a decent amount of speculation as to what it meant—the connection with Avizandum's death was recognized immediately, but what did that signify? Would there be further-reaching direct consequences of Viren's involvement and the archdragon-killing spell? Would Avizandum himself somehow have expanded significance? What is Viren reaching for: Aaravos, redemption, another chance at life?

Mostly, it set the tone for s4 and arc 2 in general, particularly regarding Viren's character arc, with strong mood and themes of helplessness, the past, regret and consequences, cyclic harm, and (of course) death. Not even to mention the looming presence of Aaravos and his relationship with Viren as his pawn. It was a vibe.

It wasn't until after s5 and/or s6 that the opening came into full context: Avizandum, in his final moments, turns his back on the battle with Harrow—the cycle of violence that he, himself, has contributed to perpetuating—and reaches for the child he will now be unable to protect from that violence.

Viren, as it turns out, does the exact same, as we see explicitly in s5 and continued implicitly in s6. Like Avizandum, he reaches for his children, unable to save them from the damage he has already done—all of it through dark magic.

On its own, it's an elegant implementation of the parallels TDP is so fond of to demonstrate that both sides of this long-time conflict have inflicted harm on each other and themselves in very similar ways for generations. Even at the time of s4, however, we had Callum's opening obviously derived from Viren's, and after s6 we have Claudia's, as well—both of which come with their own context that builds off of Viren's in different ways.

Lost Child

So while Viren's opening actually has very little to do with Aaravos (prior to Aaravos's actual appearance grasping him as a literal pawn), Claudia's (and Callum's, which we'll come back to in a bit) is difficult to interpret as not being related to her personal dynamic with Aaravos.

Interestingly, Claudia's opening places her at a very specific point in time, since it's visibly between two major physical changes to her body/appearance—her lower leg is missing, severed by Rayla in the Sea of the Castout at the end of s5, but she still has her long hair from before prompting Terry to cut it off for her early in s6. Even more specifically, she has the half-and-half split of black and white hair, which is already majority-white in s6e1:

This is Claudia in a moment we don't see on-screen—when, having failed to collect Aaravos's prison and not knowing that Viren has been offered and rejected the Infantis Sanguine spell, she turns to Aaravos in the dark of night and is willing to do anything to save her father.

I could do a whole thing here about the nature of Claudia's perception of Aaravos as both a paternal and divine figure, but the relevant part is that her only association between dark magic and Aaravos is a positive one—as far as she's concerned, Aaravos gave humanity dark magic as a benevolent gift, and her main reason (at least that she's willing to voice) for hesitating to give it up is that Aaravos kept his promises to her and it would be right to keep her promise to free him. In her opening, she goes from pained and defeated to looking upward with total trust and hope—looking to Aaravos the way she would have looked to Viren.

Her petrification shares the single tear with Viren and Avizandum, really cementing her place as another loop in the cycle of harm between humanity and Xadia that has dark magic at its heart. That callback to Viren's opening also puts hers in dialogue with him as much as with Aaravos, placing her in the same position as he is in a reflection of his horror and dismay that she has followed his path and example so closely.

Given that Claudia dramatically changes appearance (and, to an extent, attitude) immediately after this opening is introduced, it's possible that we'll see a different variant for s7... but given the end of s6, she actually hasn't really changed all that much. She has doubts about how to proceed with her life after Viren leaves, but as soon as Aaravos re-enters the picture, her conviction is back. She may not have done any dark magic after s6e1, but I don't think that's because she's decided to give it up.

Key Framing

Given the context of Claudia's opening, Callum's opening becomes unusual because it references Viren's without tying back to Avizandum and that cycle of harm. It's still on some level about dark magic, but Callum's relationship with dark magic isn't tied up in family and inheritance like Claudia's and Viren's are—instead it's focused entirely on fate vs. freedom, and on Aaravos specifically.

Callum's opening appears only for s4e4 ("Through the Looking Glass"), where he is possessed by Aaravos and it is established that his single use of dark magic is what allows that control, and for s5e8 ("Finnegrin's Wake") when he uses dark magic a second time. The shared opening puts those two episodes in obvious dialogue with each other, since s5e8 never makes explicit that the danger of dark magic for Callum is control by Aaravos—something he has already asked Rayla to end his life in order to avoid.

The focus in Callum's opening, both by its visual prominence and Callum's own gaze directed at it, is the Key. While Viren and Claudia's petrifications end the way Avizandum's does—with the single tear—Callum's ends with the Key in a blaze of light.

I expect we will see Callum's opening return for s7, possibly even as a primary opening, but it will almost certainly be recontextualized at some point and possibly even changed to a variant that reflects that new context. The Key is an element that will contribute to Callum's doom or salvation—or both, as a key can both lock and unlock—and its prominence in his opening reflects that and will likely be informed by how that resolution develops.

All of Us, Stardust

Speaking of alterations to the openings:

The final, altered version of the Viren opening kicks off s6, acting as a last, fun little extension of the "is Viren dead?" cliffhanger of s5. Aaravos's hand reaches down as usual, but instead of firmly grasping the petrified Viren, he very briefly hesitates before pushing it slightly, instead. The petrified Viren then crumbles and collapses into dust.

We first saw (or rather, had described to us via frantic convention attendee note-taking) this opening at the first reveal of s6e1, which was originally shown without any of the scenes revealing Viren to be alive. There are a lot of ways it could be interpreted, from a straightforward "he'd dead, Jim," to my own kind of fanciful theory from the time regarding Viren, dead or alive, having been made unusable by Aaravos as a pawn.

One way to contextualize this opening is with this old illustration from Patience, which ties in closely with the Aaravos chess/pawns motif (and was a significant part of contextualizing the arc 2 opening as "pawns"):

Now, there are a lot of things about this image that are important, not least the confirmation/reinforcement of the chain of manipulation of dark mages by Aaravos across thousands of years from Ziard to Viren, with the implication of Callum in the future. What I'd like to call attention to is that in chess, tipping over a piece is a gesture specifically used only with the king, and specifically to indicate that you are resigning the game and the opponent is victorious.

I don't think there's anywhere we've seen Aaravos truly lose, except for possibly when he was imprisoned, because his plans have levels of redundancy that mean they don't depend on any given individual—a game of chess hinges on the king, but Aaravos is essentially playing six or eight interconnected games at once, and a loss on one board only reinforces his remaining pieces on another. Losing Viren, deliberately or not, empowers his influence over Claudia... exactly as we see in the sequence of arc 2 openings. It would be difficult for them to have replicated the tipped-over/toppled king imagery with the petrified Viren without having to do some labor-intensive camera work on the existing opening pattern (e.g. do they show the ground when he falls? What even is the ground?)—so I think there's a strong likelihood that him crumbling to dust is meant to have a similar resonance.

Anyway, I'm kind of dancing around some complex theorizing and analysis of Viren's death that I go back and forth on depending on the day, but basically I do still think the important takeaway from this opening variant is that as far as Aaravos is concerned, Viren is off the board. That it's the opening for s6e1, rather than a special use for s6e8 (as Callum's variant openings are handled) is also IMO a positive sign regarding Aaravos's loss of control and direct manipulation of Viren over the course of s6. I don't think we've heard the last about Viren, and between Claudia, Soren, and Kpp'Ar there will definitely be a multifaceted interpretation of his legacy with significance in s7.

Opening the Final Season

Ultimately, given the dialogue between the three (four?) variant openings we have seen so far for arc 2, I think for s7 we can expect:

the Callum variant will appear at least once

at least one new Claudia- or Callum-based variant, OR possibly even an Aaravos variant

a new variant (possibly one of the ones from the previous point) to close out the arc for at least s7e9

That's my fevered ramblings about this 20-second repeated sequence, thanks for coming to my continuing insane TED talks on this and other ridiculous topics.

[acesofspadess]

The Met

summary: you get ready for your first Met Gala that's full of surprises.

notes: fluff, fluff, and more fluff, this was so cute to write and as always reader is a POC.

“Hi Vogue, I'm y/n and I'm here with Pleasing at the 2024 Met Gala.” You were beyond words with emotion at being at your first Met Gala. The video Vogue had decided to do with you was a small get ready with me that you immediately accepted on the spot. As you walked into the serene hotel room full of your ‘get ready team’. You sat in the chair you were set to get your hair and makeup done in.“It’s unbelievable that i'm actually here in New York getting ready for the Met.” you spoke softly as your make up artist applied the beginning steps of your skincare. 

“You need something darling?” The voice of the one and only spoke from off camera only a sliver of him could be seen from the mirror you faced. You smiled looking at him through the mirror. “A kiss before Ella makes it impossible to do so.” You laughed softly at your own joke as he came over and the camera had a full view of the soft but love filled kiss you shared.

You and Harry had been together for almost a year romantically. You had known Harry since you both starred together in Don't Worry Darling as Jack and Alice. You two had quickly become the best of friends and were someone he confided in all the time. You travelled with him to Venice for the film festival, and came to the rest of his New York residency shows, and his birthday shows before your job pulled you away from him.

Not that you were really with him. His romantic relationship with Olivia was all a stunt. But he and Olivia were friends which he told you made it alot easier to do.

When they broke up in November of 2022 he came to you crying. You had thought it was all fake at first judgement, and he confirmed it was, but that he couldn't any longer spend his time pretending. 

You -better than anyone- knew what it was like to pretend after playing so many different characters. He had spent that night in your arms and you wonder if that's where it all actually started.

You were pulled away once again with months and months of press for your role in Barbie. It wasn't until the end of May that you finally had a decent break before picking up Bridgerton again for your season. You had stayed in touch with Harry for all 6 months and when he knew you were shot of anywork he flew you out to Scotland just in time for his show.

You spent countless time with him and his close friends getting to know them better and personally. You were beyond proud when he sold out Slane a few weeks after you had joined him on tour. Before he went on stage you were sitting with him in his dressing room as you calmed him down.

“Haz, you are the only person I know that could ever do something to this magnitude right now. You did this and I know you can go out there and be the best singer and person I know.” you cupped your hands around his cheeks and closed his releasing a deep breath. “You're amazing Hazza, and I know you know that.” he giggled softly and nodded his head. “Thank you,” the way he whispered your name wasn't like he had before. He looked at you with so much passion and you knew exactly the proximity between you- or lack thereof- and he knew exactly what he was doing when he looked at your lips then your eyes. “Harry-” “Y/N”

“You've got to be on stage in about 10 seconds.”

“I'm aware.”

“So are you gonna kiss me now or-”

That was all it took for you both to let yourselves completely and utterly fall for each other.

In September he introduced you to Niall which made you cry, but not as much as you did when he got down on one knee a few weeks later on October 15.

You wanted to keep the wedding very secluded and in a place both of you called home. Your wedding was small but everyone you could have ever wanted was there (with your own one direction reunion) and it was kept from the public.

The past few months as a married couple were the best months you've ever had, and now you were here, at the Met Gala, being the first to bring his brand into the luxury scene and the both of you couldn't be more proud of each other.

“Okay one more.” he whispered, giving you much more than just one before Ella and Lyric were shoo’ing him off to finally start. “I love you, darling. Thank you for being here with me.” you held his hand as he backed away. “Thank you for believing in my brand and bringing it to life. I love you forever.”

The video resumed as you talked about the details of your hair, make up and dress before you were fully done and ready to step out of the hotel. You wanted to be able to scream that you wearing your husband's line and when Harry kissed you as you walked out and told you, “show them who my wife is’ you knew he was ready and you were more than happy to oblige.

You had just made it to the Met Gala and as you stepped out you waved letting your wedding ring shine. The train to your dress was long -extremely long- and you needed about 5 people to help you lift it. 

As you waited in line, many people shouted your name and you waved to all the fans lined up on the streets sending them kisses in thanks. It was finally your turn to walk the stairs and they had cleared everyone in your path for you to be on full display.

The shutter of thousands of cameras and shouts wanting to gain your attention for a photo were drowned out when you saw someone you didn't think you would. “Harry over here please.” You heard someone shout and you laughed loudly, of course he would. You waited at the second landing of stairs for him and you kissed him as he finally stood next to you. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” you laughed in between poses. “Wanted you to have your moment. I'll see you at the top.” he walked up the rest of the way  stopping at the top just out of the way for the photographer to get you and your entire dress without anyone in the pictures. You and all the people helping you with your dress walked up to the top to take your final photos. You saw Harry in an interview with Emma not too far from LaLa Anthony who you knew you were interviewing with.

“Y/N!! Holy- Girl you look so sexy.” you laughed as you kicked your leg out showing off the slit. “I feel sexy in this dress. It took ages to put together.” you laughed with her. “Yes I was getting ready to ask, who are you wearing?” You couldn't help the smile that plastered on your face. “Oohhh I know that smile.” LaLa laughed and you nodded. “I'm wearing Pleasing. It's their first ever luxury fashion debut and I'm so glad I got to be a part of this experience. I got to help design this with Harry Lambert, and Harry Styles. They wanted to choose a colour that not only matched the theme, but really complimented my skin tone. We wanted to really focus on the ‘time’ part of the theme so each flowers centre has a clock in the middle. It took almost 25,000 hours to make this dress and Im really just so honoured that Harry and Pleasing gave me this opportunity.”

LaLa praised your response, “They chose the right person to debut on let me tell you. The way the colours bounce off the brown of your skin and the slit and the shape. You truly do look wonderful. Now we did see Harry walking up. I want to ask him about some things on your dress.”

You both looked around for him. “He was just here, I swear.” LaLa spotted him and waved him over, his eyes litting up when he saw you.

 “Hello.” he kissed Lalas cheeks before stepping next to you. “Hello, beautiful wife.” he kissed your cheek. “Hi my beautiful husband.” you teased back knowing exactly what he was doing. “Husband? Wife?” Lala gasped and you both smiled as you held up your hand. “Yes, I've finally managed to tie him down.” you all laughed and his arm snaked around your waist. “This is the best news ever, husband and wife, debuting your brand- Harry how do you feel?”

You watched as he spoke and swore you fell more in love with him at every moment. “But my beautiful wife put the idea of wearing Pleasing to the Met, and giving the vogue club members a pleasing room. This all goes to her, all we did was make the dress.”

You scoffed at his humbleness. “Yeah, like that was a walk in the park.” He shook his head at you blushing. “I'll say this final thing. Harry has done an amazing job at getting pleasing to where it's at and this dress and his outfit are his and Pleasings and I just can't wait for you all to see what he brings in the future.”

LaLa hugged you both before you walked away with Harry holding your dress for you. “Thank you so much for wearing this. You have been apart of Pleasing since the beginning and I couldn't imagine anyone else wearing this. You have truly made me the happiest person alive. I love you so much. ” He whispered to you as you walked inside. “I have loved you in many ways since we first read together. I am honoured to have been by your side through Pleasings beginnings, and i simply cannot wait to see what you do next.”

He kissed you softly again and again and again, and you simply could not wait to be back in the hotel room in his arms. 

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

In which I cling to the last vestiges of two of my favorite shows of the year, write a eulogy for one of the most disappointing, and rejoice over the entry of a new fav. These shows are available for weekly streaming on Gaga unless otherwise noted.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

Farewell to a wonderful show. @isaksbestpillow has posted all seven episodes as of last week, so if you've been waiting for a binge, now is your chance. I already said a lot about why I loved this one, so I'll just use this space to urge you again to watch! This show is a goddamn delight.

Takara's Treasure

The main narrative ended last week, but this week we got a sweet little epilogue and one more visit with Takara and Taishin. I enjoyed the brief glimpse into their near future and getting to see Taishin turn 20 with his very first fuzzy navel, though I was a bit sad we got a repeat of the finale's themes rather than treading new ground for their relationship (I could not have cared less about the fujoshi writing RPF). This was a lovely show and I will miss these characters.

Happy of the End

CWs: Assault, child abandonment, child molestation, childhood sexual slavery, dubcon (including between the main characters), human trafficking, rape, sexual coercion and exploitation, suicidal ideation/possible attempt, unsafe S&M practices, violence

A very rough week for this show in terms of the content--please mind the triggers above because these are explicit depictions and it can be hard to stomach. I am waiting to see where this show is going with its themes before I make a final judgment, but watching the fourth episode in particular, some parts felt like crossing the line into gratuitous trauma porn that provided little additional illumination. We'll see how it shakes out in the end, but please take care with this one. I continue to find the characters and relationship dynamics compelling, and I am invested in Haoren and Chihiro's attempt to have a relationship despite the metric ton of baggage they are shouldering between them. Neither is equipped to even have any idea what a healthy relationship looks like, but they see something in each other and they want to try. That tiny bit of hopeful but likely doomed thinking may be all we have to cling to in this story.

I Hear the Sunspot

Sigh. I am sad about what this show could have been. For me, the finale definitely did not succeed at sticking the landing and making the last six weeks of wheel spinning feel worth it, and this show is going down as one of the big disappointments of the year for me. As you know if you've been keeping up with this weekly post, I loved the first half of this show, and Taichi's original characterization, so much. And I don't understand what happened here. The second half has felt like a completely different, confused, demonstrably worse show. Taichi hasn't felt like himself in weeks, the plots with Maya and the job at Sign were poorly grounded, inconsistently executed, and offered little pay off either thematically or in terms of character development, and the romance writing was a complete failure. It was actually painful to see Kohei run after Taichi and confess to him again, and the directing and editing of that sequence was so muddled that I had no idea what I was supposed to understand about Taichi's emotional journey or why this was the moment he was suddenly able to reciprocate. After all that brooding and his big speech about communication, he did not communicate much of anything to Kohei in the end. And I'm supposed to be content with leaving them here? Deeply unsatisfying on just about every level.

I understand from @twig-tea that while the story followed the beats of the manga's first two volumes at a high level, this production chose to remove many of the contextual details that actually made sense of the characters' behavior. It also seems they didn't understand they were setting up character arcs that did not get resolved until a later volume the show will not cover, thus ensuring the story would end at the wrong place. Just a baffling set of adaptation choices, and so much wasted potential. It's a shame.

Love is Like a Poison

But at least we have a new favorite coming in hot a week sooner than expected! I absolutely loved this first episode, in which we meet Shiba, our cold-hearted lawyer with delusions of grandeur and a sexually charged fixation on his house plants, and Haruto, our flirty scammer who has his number. This show is really well written and packed a ton of story, comedy, and deep characterization into its first episode. It's a promising start! For now it’s only available grey outside of Japan; I am hoping it will get picked up for proper international distribution soon.

Tagging @bengiyo to add this week's anime update.

[secriden]

love sea episode 2 rewatch thoughts:

in hindsight, this opening should've clued us in that this episode was going to be horny as fuck.

ok so if episode 1 was about establishing mahasamut, i think the purpose of episode 2 is really to give us a much more nuanced introduction to tongrak. what's fascinating is that the show chooses to impart this insight to us through a rather unusual medium: sex (and, specifically, tongrak's attitude about sex).

we open with kinky kinky beach sex and it tells us that tongrak is impulsive, hedonistic, and tends to give into the emotions of the moment (something that, as the series develops, he does with increasingly self-sabotaging results; eg. when he lashes out at mahasamut after the 1st run in with prin or when he runs off to appease jak when he gets fearful in episode 9).

it also tells us that tongrak is very comfortable with his physical wants and needs. sure, mahasamut kinda flusters him because he awakens desires that are more intense than he's is used to, but tongrak's still grounded enough in his sense of self that he can roll with it pretty quickly and becomes an active, willing, even enthusiastic participant. (it's not going to be his physical desire that drives a wedge between them; its going to be the emotional connection that ends up being terrifying to tongrak.)

this episode also lays a ton of groundwork to set up why and how intensely mahasamut and tongrak are drawn to each other.

a lot of it, early on, is purely physical.

mahasamut and tongrak clock that they're compatible in their (D/s) kink immediately and they embrace this with gleeful abandonment. other people have made this point a lot more clearly than i could ever hope to (see @williamrikers excellent analysis of mutrak's kink dynamic), so i won't belabour the point, but i would like to point out how thoroughly the show wants the audience to know that these two are a perfect match physically and sexually (specifically with their particular kinks) and that they are incredibly comfortable with that.

(an aside: one thing i adore about peat's portrayal of tongrak's submissiveness in the beach scene is the way he starts out being the initiator in the kiss - in the gif above, it's tongrak that grabs mahasamut and yanks him into the kiss at first - but once its clear that mahasamut is on board, tongrak is almost constantly angled up, head tipped back, responding to mahasamut's cues but making no attempt to direct whats happening. there's so much surrender in the pliant way peat holds himself as they kiss and the way he goes from pulling mahasamut into the kiss to just clinging to his torso as he lets mahasamut take control. even when he reaches for mahasamut's dick, the second mahasamut pins him down and gives him an instruction, tongrak makes no attempt to redirect and just goes with what mahasamut wants. there's just such great detail in this portrayal of surrender.)

but what makes this encounter different (from the many, many other ones they've both had) is going to be how neither of them were able to keep this connection as purely physical for very long. (this is what episode 3 is for, though, so lets put a pin in that thought.)

back to insights into tongrak's character: we also get an escalation/confirmation about how tongrak views sex (and relationships) as purely transactional. tongrak's entire backstory is grounded in the idea that 'everybody has a price' because that's what his parents showed him. to tongrak, every human interaction is about finding the right things to give (usually money in his case) to get what he wants and this has allowed him to rationalise that feelings and emotions (both his own/the other person's) don't matter.

tongrak firmly believes that as long as he's offering something of sufficient (monetary) value, he's perfectly within rights to demand what he wants without consulting mahasamut's feelings, wants, or thoughts about the matter. in fact, he thinks of mahasamut as kind of an object for his sexual gratification and/or convenience. this is why he feels no remorse about kicking mahasamut out after they have sex even though mahasamut clearly wants to cuddle/come down from the physical high together. the next morning, it never pings to him that he should be guilty about how he treated mahasamut.

(look at his face. he's such an entitled diva. i love him so much.)

not only is this attitude - in reality - a very inaccurate way to view human beings (because as a species we are creatures very much led by our emotions), but it is the source of tongrak's own dissatisfaction and unhappiness. he never acknowledges any of his own emotional needs and so cannot manage or address them in a meaningful or healthy way.

so to summarise tongrak understands and is comfortable with his physical desires but does not know how to even acknowledge his emotional ones whilst impulsively being led by them in the heat of the moment: already we can see that this is a recipe for disaster and tells an unspoken story of pain and trauma.

(i also want to mention how well mahasamut continues to respond to tongrak's specific brand of caustic entitlement. he doesn't bother making a big deal about tongrak throwing money at him, but he also never names a price for his 'services' either. he blatantly refers to tongrak as his "owner" but also makes it clear that it's not tongrak's money that's keeping him around, but rather mahasamut's own desire for tongrak. it's like he'll act in tongrak's play but he won't quite stick to the script either. its so, so effective because he doesn't trigger tongrak's fight or flight response but he's still undermining and proving tongrak's assumptions wrong at every turn. this is what allows mahasamut to worm his way behind tongrak's walls whilst simultaneously chipping away at them.)

one last little bit of (this time non-sex-adjacent) insight into tongrak: he has a great capacity for compassion. (which will, eventually, turn into love.)

mahasamut, at this point, is mostly just an incredible lay to tongrak. but already he shows care and concern for mahasamut that's separate from what he can offer tongrak. he's concerned at a (relatively minor) hint that mahasamut has been mistreated in the past and then again concerned that mahasamut will suffer the repercussions of any hit to his reputation. [note: this is informed by a backstory regarding homophobia on the island that's from Khom/Connor's story in Love Sand, but even without that insight we can see tongrak's concern is for mahasamut.] (again, this is something the show is setting up to callback to later when tongrak gets offended on mahasamut's behalf when he thinks the waiter made fun of mahasamut.)

these little glimpses give us such a contrasting perspective on tongrak compared to episode 1, where he was mostly just a rich, entitled, and fairly unlikable character. we're being shown that what we've seen so far is really a mask as tongrak's true character slowly starts bleeding through as he has more interactions with mahasamut.

and then the episode closes on heartbreak: You're aware aren't you? Love is just a figment of our imagination.

tongrak's expression right before he says this is filled with resignation and disappointment. he hates that he has to say it but he feels its his duty to burst mahasamut's bubble. he genuinely believes this and so to him he's just doing mahasamut a favour by telling him a Truth about life. for us, this is the final crack in the mask and we see just how lost and fragile and hurt tongrak truly is.

(and the way peat sells this part - the cold almost clinical look in his eyes when he says the line. the tiny pout of his lips like tongrak can't help but feel sad about it, even though he accepts it as reality. the cold, flat tone peat uses to deliver the line when tongrak's usually quite expressive and uses lots of inflections and intonations in his speech. ugh <3)

but this is also really important because this is why we, the audience, start to care about tongrak. mame takes us on this journey, sets us up to wonder why tongrak's the main character when he starts out kinda of awful and then shifts the ground out from under us by showing us his soft, wounded underbelly. we can't help but want him to be loved, now, and this is why we become invested in 'tongrak mahasamut'.

[i-heart-hxh]

I just want to say I appreciate you for staying positive about killugon. Admittedly, I’ve given up on them. Maybe it’s too many angsty fanfics or metas I’ve seen that basically make it seem like they’ll never be close again but it’s nice to see some people still going strong with this ship! Hopefully one day I can enjoy this ship again the way I used to. Currently everything I read about them in fandom just depresses me.

Hi anon!

I'm sad to hear the negativity has gotten to you to this degree! It actually surprises me how much the fandom seems to think what happened between them can't be fixed. I've been into HxH for almost 8 years now and as time has gone on and I've revisited the series and analyzed it deeply and discussed it with others, I've only grown more certain that things between them will be okay--assuming Togashi can reach that point in the series. And right now is a great time to be hopeful about the future of HxH, with Togashi working so actively on the series the past few months.

Sooo many of the messages in my inbox amount to "Is there really hope? Are Gon and Killua really going to reunite and reconcile? Or is their relationship hopelessly broken?" so even though I feel like a bit of a broken record addressing this topic so much, it seems like it's a topic people really want addressed, so here's some more of my thoughts. (Trying to make my answers on this topic at least a little different each time even if some repetition is inevitable...!)

Here's this post I made of some of the reasons I anticipate a Gon and Killua reunion and fixing their relationship. And here's this eye-opening analysis post of the separation, yet again, which also offers hope.

So much of HxH is about second chances. It's about how love and human connections transform people and make life worth living, no matter how painful and difficult it may be. At the end of Chimera Ant Arc, Meruem and Komugi (who are, by the way, absolutely parallels for Gon and Killua) find their meaning for living in each other, and decide to stay together even knowing the only way they can be together is in the afterlife. If you trace back this scene to all the factors and character moments that made it possible, it goes all the way back to Gon extending kindness to Killua and changing his life. I believe Gon and Killua are on a path wherein they will ultimately find their meaning in each other and vow to stay together again (albeit without the dying part).

Gon and Killua are the protagonists of the series, and they are emblematic of the themes of HxH. Looking at the themes of HxH and the worldview it presents, it doesn't make sense for Gon and Killua to experience this horrible traumatic incident as the young teens they are, then never ever get to fix and resolve it even though they're both clearly upset to have to leave each other and they definitely have more to say to each other. Why show them feeling dissatisfied and unhappy to separate if they'll never get a chance to fix things and be happy together again? Do you really think that's the direction Togashi wants to go in, with the focus of the series and the repeated emphasis on how the hope we can find in a cruel, painful world rests in the connections we have with the people around us?

It's meaningful that they make each other so happy and transformed each others' lives. It's meaningful that even now in merch and artwork and such, they're portrayed as a pair. It's meaningful that a huge chunk of the audience so desperately wants to see them together again, and I'm certain Togashi is well aware of that. These two are at the heart of what makes HxH so wonderful and moving.

It's okay to take a break from the ship if it's not bringing you joy. Sometimes I get frustrated by takes and interpretations I see about it, too, trust me. Ultimately, it's here for you whenever you want to revisit it, and there are plenty of fanworks with happy endings and reconciliation between them if you need something to tide you over until canon hopefully resolves things between them. But do what feels right for yourself--it's okay to focus on something fluffier and less complex if that's what you need for now. I hope eventually you can come to see it with more hope, as I have lots of hope for their future--and I don't think it's unwarranted at all. 💖

[milehighmegs]

On the Subject of Fandoms: A Love Letter

So, I'm old. Well, oldER. I haven't entered the twilight of my years by any stretch, but once I entered that midlife wistful state of nostalgia, I knew that I had very likely reached the point at which it would be more past than future. And ya know, that's ok. I made peace with my mortality long ago. I don't fear death, I fear not living before I die.

So what's that got to do with fandoms? you may be asking. Fair enough. Here's what it's got to do with fandoms:

Before it was even a term, before I could do multiplication or write my name in cursive (I told you I'm old), I was part of a fandom and didn't even know it. My parents watched 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' when it was still on primetime; we even recorded the final episode on VHS and had it for years. (I told you, I'M OLD.) It was so incredibly formative for me that it's become part of my identity, part of my moral & ethical code, part of my personality. Is that ridiculous? Dramatic? Maybe even a bit of hubris? Perhaps. But it's true, nonetheless.

I've since joined other fandoms, of movie franchises (namely the MCU), TV shows (like Good Omens), and musicians (I'm a die-hard metalhead) over the course of my life, each of them creating/inhabiting a different part of what makes me ME. Though I've always remained the same basic person at my core (a decent one at least if not a good one, I hope), being a part of these fandoms has shaped the foundations of how I live my life, and how I've LIVED my life.

Being on the proverbial back nine of my earthly existence, looking back at what's come before, at how far I've come and all the things I've fucked up or gotten right, questioned, accepted, regretted, cherished... so much of that is filled with moments like, 'what would Captain Picard do? How would the Avengers handle this? Which Slipknot song would be most comforting right now?' With the explosion of semi-social media sites (like tumblr here, and its gateway drug, Pinterest), I've been able to dive even deeper into the fandom. The fic, the art, the theories & analyses... it turns my appreciation for all these things I love to 11. But it wouldn't be possible without the most critical element: the fans.

Because people have such a love for, and identify so strongly with the stories & characters of their respective fandoms, they go deep into hidden meanings, major themes, & what they imagine these stories would be like if they were able to direct the action. More than anything, what I love about fanfic/fanart is that while yes, we're creating what we want for the characters, it's more a reflection of what we want for ourselves, both in the same situation as the characters and in life in general. For example, I see SO MUCH art/fic of Crowley & Aziraphale being open & free in showing their love for each other. I see so many stories of them making up and living happily ever after. The art ranges from sweet & adorable to... ah... adult-themed, but the vast majority of the latter is passionate, tender, & clearly loving; rarely is it straight-up raunchy. Smutty? Totally. Raunchy? Not so much. And why? Because we know these two are IN LURVE, not just in lust. And we want what they (clearly) have, even if they can't admit it to one another. We, the fans, can live vicariously through these characters and these worlds, and there we can find what we're looking for.

I've had a rollercoaster of a life, emotionally speaking, especially in matters of romantic love, and much of that hasn't been pleasant. I've done so much soul-searching, shadow work, self-care and all that whathaveyou, but none of it- NONE of it- has come anywhere near to being as insightful as the fan-based art & analyses of the relationship between Crowley & Zira. I have spent the vast majority of the last week thinking about it, writing about it, going over & over how it applies to my life & experiences, and I gotta say... none of it would be possible without the remarkable Good Omens fandom. So seriously, thank you. THANK YOU. You've helped to make me a better person. You've helped to make me look back on my life, smile, and turn around... to look forward to what comes next.

Keep up the incredible work, creators. You never know whose life you could be saving.

[teyamskxawng]

What Once Was [I]

Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Part II here

The rundown: The once unbreakable bond between you and Lo'ak is tested as a newfound connection develops between you and Neteyam

Warnings: language, love triangle, jealousy, miscommunication, angst (i think?), Lo'ak can't handle change, Lo'ak is emotionally immature, everyone is kind of oblivious, characters are aged up

WC: 5.0k

A/N: love triangle fic bc i was feeling messy but i'm kind of struggling to write this... i have absolutely no idea how it's going to end, but we're sticking with it i guess

For as long as you can remember, you and Lo'ak have always been inseparable. Born just days apart, it's like you were destined to grow up side by side, practically attached at the hip. From your most embarrassing moments to your proudest achievements, there was, and still is, rarely a time when the two of you aren't together. 

Once a wide-eyed, lanky little girl, you've blossomed into a strong and capable young woman. And it's no different for Lo'ak. The wayward and reckless boy from your childhood has matured both physically and emotionally (sort of) into a man. Neither of you are children anymore. You've outgrown those naive days, stepping into the world of adulthood.

It's all still new and bizarre to you—your sudden awareness of the terrifying looming task of finding a mate, the unexpected influx of second glances and prolonged conversations with the other guys in your clan, the near-constant gossip that there's more to your relationship with Lo'ak than meets the eye. But you figure these little sprinklings of oddities are simply part of the ever-changing journey of growing up. 

And throughout all the confusing changes and inexplicable hormones, Lo'ak continues to be your rock. His enormous smile and infectious laughter remain the same; they still possess the power to brighten even your gloomiest days.

To many, he's the olo'eyktan's son; a direct descendant of the esteemed Toruk Makto; the antithesis of his older brother; some four-fingered anomaly to stare at and whisper about. But to you? You've never defined him by any titles or labels. In your eyes, he's simply Lo'ak: the first person you ever called a friend. Stupidly reckless yet fiercely loyal, easily the most annoying person on Pandora yet the one soul you could never live without—you wouldn't have him any other way.

You're forever intertwined through idyllic shared moments: climbing your way up towering trees until your palms were raw with blisters and hurt like hell, egging each other on to reach risky new speeds and daring new heights while soaring through the sky atop your ikran, spending nights wide awake in adjacent hammocks while trying to hold in your childish giggles over idiotic jokes that no one else could possibly understand. The friendship between you and Lo’ak is steadfast and unwavering; nothing can shake the bond you share.

At least, that's what you thought until Neteyam entered the picture.

In all fairness, Neteyam has always been around. He's like a constant presence, just sort of hovering on the periphery of your life. With him being a year older, it used to seem like an entire lifetime separated you during your childhood years. He bore so much responsibility on his shoulders at such a young age yet still held so much respect and admiration from everyone around him. Destined to become the olo'eyktan of your clan and recognized throughout Pandora as an extraordinary hunter, Neteyam grew up as a literal prodigy in every sense of the word.

And despite growing up alongside him and his siblings, Neteyam's awe-inspiring reputation often still makes him seem larger than life—like an ethereal figure rather than someone deeply connected to so many of your childhood memories. 

You and Neteyam have always been on friendly terms, but you never reached the same level of closeness as you did with Lo'ak, Kiri, or even Tuk. Your interactions with him typically consist of simple hellos whenever you pass each other in the Sully tent, aimless lighthearted conversations during your joint training sessions, or joining forces to playfully (not really) gang up on Lo'ak in a mutual spirit of camaraderie. Even though these moments are undoubtedly positive and enjoyable, they're also few and far between compared to your experiences with the other Sully kids. 

Neteyam always has so much shit to do, so many things to train for, so many duties to obey. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feed into Lo'ak's 'perfect little warrior' quip about Neteyam behind his back.

And when Jake decides to send all of the warriors in your training group on paired week-long hunting trips to put your acquired skills to the test, he doesn't even think twice before shooting down your and Lo'ak's mutual request to team up because he's a heartless, cruel old man he has first-hand experience of the way you and Lo'ak seem to revert back to children in each other's presence. 

Lo'ak gets paired with some stony old head who's over twice his age, while you get paired with Neteyam, which actually is alright with you. Neteyam sends you a warm smile when his father points you his way, and you, in turn, shoot a massive grin back at Lo'ak's sad little face.

The hunting trip goes even better than you could've imagined. Throughout the week-long journey, not only do you make a handful of clean kills, but you also manage to break through some of the emotional barriers that Neteyam has always maintained around himself. Behind his protective walls, when he lets his guard down, he's just like any other Na'vi your age—he's witty, charming, and endearing in his own distinctive way. 

He's also objectively nice to look at.

So it's really no one's business if you find yourself mesmerized by the muscles rippling across his back as he draws his bowstring, aiming at a fish you should be helping him track. Or if you're too busy admiring the way his tanhì glow in the moonlight to register that he's called your name three times in a row without receiving your response. You're an adult; you’re allowed to admire other men. Besides, Neteyam seems to be blissfully unaware of the fact that he's a heartthrob. He's kind of introverted and shy, yet arguably one of Pandora's most genuine and kind-hearted souls. And honestly? You feel kind of stupid for not taking the time to peel back each layer of his carefully crafted facade and build a deeper friendship with him sooner. It's an unexpected companionship that blossoms during those days spent side by side with Neteyam in Pandora's mesmerizing beauty, and it'll forever be a treasured part of your shared memories. 

Upon returning from your week-long hunting trip, it's apparent to just about everyone that something has changed between you and Neteyam. Your bond has deepened, and every moment spent together is more meaningful than before. Your laughter booms louder; your conversations last longer; your shared glances become more playful. To say the experience has brought you closer would be the understatement of the century.

Lo'ak quickly picks up on the not-so-subtle changes in your friendship with his brother. 

The shift in dynamics has left him feeling a confusing mix of emotions—anger, hurt, and maybe even (definitely) a tinge of envy. As he watches his brother grow closer to you, he can't help but feel like he's losing the one stable thing in his life—the one person who never mocked him for his avatar blood, never made him feel like an outcast, never picked his brother over him. 

Not until now. 

It's bullshit. It's like Neteyam doesn't have enough blessings already, like he doesn't have his choice of any other person on Pandora. It just had to be you. With each passing day, Lo'ak feels himself becoming more distant from you and his brother, unsure how to navigate those choppy waters. 

Which brings him to today.

The three of you are together, riding your ikran to scout out an uncharted waterfall that you stumbled across while on a solo hunt earlier that week. You practically begged Lo'ak to go back to the waterfall with you, and despite all the emotional commotion clouding Lo'ak's mind, he still decides to join you, hoping that maybe things will return to normal. Just you and him. What he doesn’t know, however, is that you also invited Neteyam to tag along. It’s a surprise Lo'ak discovers only when he arrives at your meeting spot and finds his brother already there, leaning on his ikran and chatting away with you like the two of you are best friends. Neteyam has a stupid smile plastered on his face as he holds your attention, completely oblivious to his brother’s arrival.

He never intended on slipping into this role—the one left behind. But here he is, grappling with feelings he can't totally name or understand; vulnerability mixed with longing, anger chased by guilt.

Childishly, Lo'ak stands there in silence for a good ten seconds before either of you notice his arrival and finally make room for him in your little group.

"Hey," you greet him, a wide grin spreading across your face. But it goes entirely unnoticed by Lo’ak, whose eyes are dead set on his brother. Maybe if he tries hard enough, he can telepathically tell Neteyam to go away. 

"You didn't say he was coming," Lo'ak mutters, finally glancing in your direction. Because you didn't. He doesn’t even need to say his name; it’s obvious. The two of you never include his brother in your outings.

Your enthused expression falters at Lo'ak's noticeable lack of excitement or even a simple 'hello' in response to your greeting. 

"No…" you begin hesitantly, your eyes darting back and forth between the two brothers before settling once more on Lo'ak. "But Jake got called to High Camp and canceled Neteyam's training session, so I figured he could join us instead."

It must be obvious that your words haven't exactly won Lo'ak over because, at his continued silence, you add, "You know he never gets a break."

Lo'ak's jaw clenches as he just stands there, motionless and marinating in his stubborn silence. In his head, he's cussing out his dad and Max and Norm and everyone else in High Camp for ruining his afternoon. Lo'ak frustratedly bites the inside of his cheek to keep the expletives in before calling out to his ikran. As he waits for his ride, he's still silent and brooding and completely ignoring both you and his brother.

The high-pitched shriek of his banshee echoes off the trees as it approaches from a nearby cliff. It swoops down and lands gracefully in front of Lo'ak, and he reaches out to scratch it behind the ear without a word. Only then does he finally lift his gaze to find you and Neteyam staring at him in bewildered silence.

Neteyam's previously wide eyes squint in confusion when Lo'ak locks eyes with him. Struggling to find the right words, Neteyam asks carefully, "Is that okay with you?" His voice is slow and cautious, as if one wrong move might set Lo'ak off.

Lo'ak responds with a deep sigh that echoes through the air, not even bothering to hide his irritation. Reaching over his shoulder for his queue, he connects to and mounts his ikran in a flash of silent, swift movements. After settling on its back and letting the tense silence steep for a few moments, Lo'ak answers his brother's inquiry with an annoyed shrug of his shoulders and an uptight "Sure."

So, to say that Lo'ak was pissed would be an understatement. 

A bubbling cauldron of jealousy and resentment brewed inside him throughout the entire flight to the waterfall. And as all three of you land your ikran onto a nearby patch of grass, his blood continues to seethe with envy. Lo’ak grabs his queue and separates the connection between himself and his ikran. Immediately after doing so, the ikran emits a sharp hiss directly in his face. The creature then abruptly shifts its gaze, evidently fed up about sharing Lo'ak's unnerving emotions through their bond. Lo'ak knows it's immature to be so upset over something so seemingly insignificant, but it still gnaws at him relentlessly. So much so that the prospect of seeing the waterfall doesn't even excite him anymore. The entire outing feels overshadowed by the looming presence of his brother. 

Clearly though, you feel the complete opposite way. You're practically vibrating in anticipation, each beat of your ikran's wings drawing you closer to the ground. As soon as you land, you hurriedly shower your ikran in affection with a few loving pats on its flank before quickly dismounting and happily leading the way toward the waterfall.

Lo'ak and Neteyam have to jog a little to keep up with your enthusiastic pace as you navigate through the dense forest landscape. You're a good ten steps ahead of them, deftly bobbing and weaving beneath low-hanging branches while simultaneously working to untie the armband from around your bicep. Your figure keeps disappearing from Lo'ak's view—vanishing behind veils of cascading leaves one moment and leaping over boulders the next as you determinedly forge ahead. It’s like you’ve never been outside before.

Finally, he catches sight of you, standing triumphantly at the base of a colossal rocky wall. Rising above you is a mind-blowing waterfall that makes Lo'ak pause in his tracks. It stands so tall and roars so loud that he momentarily forgets all about his shitty mood. No amount of grumbling or sarcasm can compete with, or diminish, the raw power of the wonder that lies before him. A thick mist envelops the base where the water comes crashing down, blurring the boundary between the waterfall and the pool below. Beams of daylight pierce through the airborne water droplets, casting vibrant spectrums of color that seem almost alive as they dance across the expanse of the creek.

Using both hands, you gather your braids away from your face and retrieve the armband from its position clenched firmly between your teeth. Your back faces Lo'ak as you drink in the mesmerizing sight before you, and your excitement is practically bubbling over as you shout over the roar of the waterfall, "Isn't it amazing? I told you, I've never seen anything so beautiful." 

The blend of mist, light, and color casts a glowing halo around your figure as you secure your hair with the band, and Lo'ak is momentarily entranced. His breaths are a little shallow as he nods wordlessly at your back, not really processing your words, but fully convinced of them nonetheless. 

Your head tilts back as you crane your neck to further examine the sprawling wall of rock. "It's kind of a climb to get to the top," you warn. Lo'ak can practically see the gears turning in your head as you map out the best route up, the strategic warrior in you taking over. When your focused attention finally returns to Lo'ak and Neteyam, there's a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "We should race," you challenge them with a grin.

The rugged, nearly vertical incline is intimidating but definitely doable. Lo'ak knows you're a skilled climber; the two of you spent your childhood scaling trees together. He fondly recalls days spent scrambling up trees and challenging each other to reach the highest branches. It felt like the biggest accomplishment in the world when you'd both reach the summit of Hometree. You'd bask in the view of the forest from the canopy until your parents inevitably tracked you down and scolded you for your reckless behavior.

You practically made climbing trees your entire personalities until Lo'ak's dumbass had to go and fall out of one. It left him with a nasty purple bruise that was way too big to hide, and when he went to his grandmother for healing, you were both unceremoniously banned from your cherished little hobby. It wasn't even that high up, but you've never let him live it down—constantly (and only half-jokingly) claiming that the accident is the sole reason he's a little off in the head.

The memory makes Lo'ak's lips twitch into a grin, and he's about to remind you of that nostalgic day when Neteyam speaks up.

"I guess it's good we didn’t invite monkey boy," Neteyam says, entirely serious. He's gazing up at the rocky enclosure in determination, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh daylight before turning back to face you.

Your face scrunches up in confusion as you ask, “Who?”

Neteyam just nods at you before clarifying, “Spider.”

Lo'ak watches as you're silent for a few beats before you break out into a slow, wide grin and let out a loud snort of laughter. 

Lo'ak has to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes, because nothing that Neteyam said warranted that kind of reaction. The remark wasn't even supposed to be funny; their whole family has been calling Spider by that nickname ever since he was little. But of course, the first time you hear that piece of information, it has to come from none other than Neteyam. And Lo'ak just has to stand there in silence like a third wheel for the umpteenth time that day. 

You’re barely able to string together words through your uncontrollable bubbles of laughter. "My Eywa," you gasp out, your eyes squeezed shut as you shake your head in disbelief. Finally catching your breath, you implore him lightheartedly, "You need to tell jokes more often, Neteyam. I’m serious."

Lo'ak knows that you're probably being a little sarcastic and a little serious at the same time, but either way, it's not like Neteyam knows that. He's just beaming back at you with that same dopey look on his face as he basks in your amusement. 

"I will…?" comes Neteyam's response, almost as if it were a question or a statement requiring some kind of validation. Lo'ak watches as you extend an arm to playfully nudge the back of his brother's head. This time, Lo'ak does roll his eyes as the two of you fall into a cycle of tugging on each other's braids and tails like a pair of five-year-olds. 

And it's been like this more and more often lately: Neteyam showering you with attention, you grinning from ear to ear and laughing at every single word that leaves his lips. It's irritating. And it gets even worse.

You finally manage to sneak out of Neteyam's reach, refocusing your sight on the towering wall ahead. 

"I'll go first," you declare confidently, surveying the wall from top to bottom as you adjust the bow and arrows securely fastened to your back. You locate a small protrusion in the rock's rough surface and firmly position your foot into the crevice, your fingers searching for a higher ledge to grip. Finding one, you propel your entire body upwards with a determined leap.

Lo'ak, unable to suppress his competitive inner child, is soon hot on your heels. From the moment you both mastered your bow and arrow, taking down your prey with clean precision, to the day you tamed and forged a bond with each of your ikran, your combined spirit of friendly competition has fueled a relentless desire to outdo each other. 

And today is no different.

"Bro, wait up!" Lo'ak shouts, his voice cutting through the cool mountain air. "I thought you said we were racing!" He scrambles onto the wall beside you, his eyes locked on your every move. Your quick hands and feet expertly navigate the rough, uneven surface of the rock wall, leading the way up.

"We are," you retort, not even sparing a glance at him as you carefully calculate each handhold and foothold. You keep your focus on the task at hand, stretching your arm out to grab a rock to your far left. 

Lo'ak extends his arm to grip the same rock you just occupied. He's well aware and not at all ashamed of the fact that he's blatantly copying your every move now—anything to keep up with your quick pace. 

"Then why'd you start without us?" he manages to ask, a little bit out of breath.

"So you can watch and learn," you reply confidently, a smug smile playing at the corners of your lips. Your outstretched foot reaches over just enough to give Lo'ak's shoulder a teasing little nudge. 

"Txanfwìngtu," Lo'ak mutters under his breath, but clearly not quiet enough. The unmistakable sound of his brother's disapproving "Lo'ak" reverberates through the air behind him. You whip your head in Lo'ak's direction before half-heartedly hissing at him. Your attempt at intimidation quickly dissolves into barely-contained laughter as you revel in the look of pure irritation on Lo'ak's face. 

You're still laughing as you resume climbing, but as you take your next step, you miscalculate your foot's placement on the rugged surface and momentarily lose your balance, whispering a soft "shit." But before you even have a chance to panic, you quickly catch yourself and regain your footing like it's nothing. Because it isn't. 

But Neteyam, the picture-perfect angel that he is, doesn't hesitate to reach out and steady you from his spot standing right behind you, even though you're barely as high off the ground as Tuk's height and it's obvious you're not going to fall. 

Lo'ak’s brows furrow as he watches your entire body tense up the instant Neteyam's hands wrap around your waist.

Something ugly swirls in Lo'ak's stomach as he notices the way his brother's eyes are practically glued to your waist, his fingers lingering on you for a few beats too long for it to feel friendly anymore. It's not until you turn your head over your shoulder to meet Neteyam's gaze that he actually has the presence of mind to shift his eyes up toward yours and let go of your middle.

"Sorry," he mumbles, so quiet and timid that you'd think he was lying if he told you he was the future leader of the entire clan.

"No, no, it's okay. Thank you," you say with a smile, clearly trying to brush it off and diffuse any lingering awkwardness from the situation. You turn back around and resume your ascent like nothing, but it doesn't escape Lo'ak's notice that he can detect the distinct scent of your arousal in the air, as clear as day. 

It's a natural reaction, something Lo'ak has noticed before in various situations without any cause for concern. He'd usually just tease you about it, and that would be that. But today is different. Seeing his brother so close to you and knowing how easily those kinds of emotions can rise to the surface because of his presence makes something ugly swirl in Lo'ak's stomach. 

Lo'ak has become increasingly agitated by your budding friendship with his brother ever since that week-long hunting trip you shared with him. And now? Now he's just confused. Everything feels so different. He's almost positive that there's something more going on between you and Neteyam—something deeper than just a normal, platonic friendship. The nagging feeling inside him refuses to go away, and he can't understand why it hurts so much.

You and Lo'ak have always been best friends—nothing more and nothing less. He's watched you talk to other men in the clan. There were countless instances where guys would boldly make a pass at you, even with Lo'ak standing right there by your side. But he'd always just laugh it off or poke fun at you. Because deep down, he's confident none of them are truly worthy of you, and nothing serious will ever come out of those flirtations.

But things are different now. Along came Neteyam—the perfect little warrior son who defies each and every one of those odds. Lo'ak can't ignore the fact that his brother is more than good enough for you. In fact, Neteyam is probably one of the few clan members who could actually be considered suitable for someone like you. This harsh truth strikes Lo'ak like a massive weight dropping on his chest.

Because of this, it's increasingly difficult for Lo'ak to shake off the nagging suspicion that something must've happened between the two of you. His mind is practically racing as thoughts of what could have transpired between you and Neteyam play over and over again inside his head like a dissonant, never-ending loop. Because what the fuck was that back at the bottom of the waterfall? Even now, your scent lingers in the air like a constant reminder of how Neteyam put his hands on you, cruelly etched into Lo'ak's memory.

He tries to focus on anything else but that moment: the lush forest surrounding the waterfall, the light filtering through the rustling leaves above, a stingbat hanging from a tree branch. He even tries taking deep breaths to calm himself down, but nothing works. It's like the soundtrack of his thoughts can't be silenced. He's a swirling vortex of anger, confusion, and betrayal, demanding an outlet to release all the pent-up turmoil.

So as soon as the little waterfall outing is all said and done and you all return to Hometree, Lo'ak swiftly grabs Neteyam's arm, pulling him aside. A puzzled expression sweeps across Neteyam's features, which only fuels Lo'ak's rising frustration over the entire situation. But the tense silence hanging in the air is cut short by your concerned voice.

"Is everything okay?" You inquire, your wide eyes dancing back and forth between the two brothers, searching for some kind of explanation.

​​Lo'ak's eyes, previously burning with rage, soften as they shift from his brother to your worried face. You just have that effect on him. 

With a brief nod of his head and a forced grin, Lo'ak tries to casually address your concerns. "Yeah, don't worry about it. I just need to talk to Neteyam about something." Sensing the tension ebbing away, he loosens his previously iron grip on his brother's arm, finally allowing it to drop altogether. "We'll catch up with you later."

Lo'ak holds his breath as you narrow your eyes at him, your face a clear mask of suspicion given his not-at-all-reassuring response. Your eyes dart toward Neteyam, who only offers you a shrug and a half-hearted smile. But clearly, he doesn't fully understand what's happening either.

Lo'ak doesn't let out the breath he's holding until you give him a reluctant nod in agreement before walking away.

Lo'ak's eyes are glued to your retreating form as you walk away, pushing past a group of low-hanging vines and disappearing into the distance. He refuses to tear his gaze away until he feels confident that you're far enough from him and his brother. With his heart pounding in his chest, he turns to face Neteyam, his eyes filled with accusation.

Without bothering to offer any preamble or context, he bluntly demands to know: "Did you fuck her?" This question has consumed him for what feels like an eternity—days melting into weeks.

Neteyam just blinks at Lo'ak, caught off-guard by the explosive confrontation. His forehead wrinkles, and his eyes squint towards his younger brother, clearly puzzled by the unexpectedness of the question. As shock gives way to disbelief, all he can muster in response is an incredulous "Are you serious?"

Lo'ak shoots back with a sarcastic huff of laughter, but his expression is anything but amused. "Dead serious, bro," he confirms, punctuating the statement with a firm nod of his head.

Neteyam's hands reach up seemingly unconsciously as they rake through his braids in clear frustration before rubbing at the sides of his temples. His eyes squeeze shut as he takes a moment to process the incredulity of it all before shaking his head and sighing heavily in exasperation.

He finally opens his eyes again and answers with unwavering certainty. "No," he replies with conviction, locking eyes with his brother to drive home the sincerity of his words.

Although Lo'ak finally feels a hint of relief surge through him at Neteyam's denial, the rage he's been harboring toward the entire situation continues to seethe just beneath the surface.

"But you want to, right?" he questions, his voice laced with a touch of hysteria, his frustration boiling over. "You just can't help yourself from taking the one person in my life who actually cares about me? You're that fucking selfish?" Lo'ak's mind races as he rambles on, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. His fists clench tightly at his sides, just itching to find their way to his brother's face.

Neteyam seems genuinely taken aback by Lo'ak's sudden outburst. He actually has the nerve to look like he's in disbelief. "That's not fair, and you know it," Neteyam says, his voice carrying a hint of hurt.

Lo'ak scoffs at Neteyam's defense, shaking his head in frustration. "Not fair? You're so full of shit," Lo'ak fires back. Because Neteyam will never understand. His life is picture-perfect. He doesn't have to carry the burden of being the second-born son—always the second thought, always living in someone else's shadow. He'll never get it.

Neteyam tries to reason with Lo'ak, his voice calm and pleading as if he's carefully picking each word to tread lightly on volatile ground. "Look, Lo'ak," he begins, his words measured like he'd practiced them already. It wouldn't really shock Lo'ak if that was the case.

"Y/n and I appreciate each other's company, but it's never crossed the boundaries of friendship. Still, I don't see why that matters. You told me the two of you are just friends, right?"

Lo'ak's silence hangs heavy in the air, as if the weight of the truth is finally sinking in. Neteyam's words weren't untrue; Lo'ak can't deny them. There were rumors floating around about you and him supposedly courting each other, barely over a year ago. You and he just laughed about it before mutually shutting everything down because you weren't anything more than friends. Aren't anything more than friends. But now the memories of those rumored whispers haunt him, like they're laughing at how stupid and confused he is about everything concerning you all of a sudden.

Lo'ak hesitates for what seems like an eternity, drawing a knowing smile from Neteyam, who then places a firm hand on top of Lo'ak's head like he's a little kid. The gesture only serves to intensify the fire burning within Lo'ak. Neteyam doesn't know anything about his friendship with you. 

Frustration and anger bubble up within Lo'ak as he forcefully wrenches his brother's arm away from him. "Get your hands off me," he mumbles, taking several steps back to put some distance between them. "And keep your hands off y/n," he adds as an afterthought, his voice bitter with resentment.

The air between the two brothers is thick with tension and unresolved emotions. It's like a storm, just waiting to break loose. Their bond has always been iffy, but at this moment, it feels like it could be severed altogether by the thin thread barely keeping them connected. 

It's too much.

Without another word, Lo'ak turns and walks away, each of his footsteps heavy with the weight of his tormenting feelings.

A/N: This feels so dramatic?? Lmfao this is exactly why I don't write angst, but I do have a second part sitting in my drafts 😼

Next part here

[total-drama-brainrot]

Assistant Noah AU, since Noah isn't a contestant, Ezekiel takes Noah's place as a member of Team Chris...

Ezekiel doesn't lose the stick, so there's no eliminations in the Egyptian Episode...

Ezekiel had become Lindsay's and Beth's platonic BFF, and now has a new better respect for women...

Ezekiel is also a bit smarter, and somehow sees through Alejandro's tricks...

How would Alejandro honestly feel about Ezekiel? 😉

I'll take any oppertunity to "save" Ezekiel from his canon treatment, and having him substitute onto Team Chris in Noah's place is a great idea.

But I don't think Alejandro would like him at all.

You've got to understand; Ezekiel is the equivalent of a very misguided, very lost puppy. He's not exactly sure what's going on at the best of times, and after Island his response to the culture shock between his homelife and his life on reality TV is to adopt a fake "cool" personality from whatever pop culture he's managed to consume... which only serves to make him more insufferable to the people around him than his clueless farmboy demeanour ever did.

Had he retained his pre-Total Drama personality and naivety, then Alejandro would tolerate him, if only as an exploitable pawn (much like Tyler). But it's repeatedly shown in canon that Ezekiel is unpleasent to be around by design. He's talkative and outspoken at the worst times, oftentimes with opinions that aren't exactly palatable, he doesn't understand the concept of personal space and acceptable social behaviour, he smells bad, ect ect. Pair this with him mimicking the stereotypical "rapper" demeanour, and you have the perfect foil for Alejandro's nice guy act.

Because Alejandro is very many things, but patient isn't one of them. At least, not in the context of being around people who annoy him. Just look at his canon relationship with Owen; if he couldn't stand to be around Owen of all people, then he'd really hate Ezekiel.

That's not to say that I think Ezekiel is a hateable character. Quite the opposite, really. He's so interesting to think about from a writer's standpoint, since he has a surprising amount of characterisation for a character who spends the majority of his screentime feral and non-verbal. Just enough to base characterisation on, and just little enough to expand upon in whatever way you'd like and not have it feel out of character.

In the given scenario, I'd have him form a friendship with Owen and and Izzy (by this point in the series he's been educated on how his father's mindset is very outdated and toxic, so he's more than happy to befriend a girl). The two of them aren't concerned with things like "coolness" and social acceptability, which would be a huge part of Zeke's character arc in this season - learning how to accept himself for himself, instead of trying to conform to his skewered perspective of what the media deems "hip".

Pairing this with the somewhat limited but amicable relationship he shares with Lindsay on Team Victory, and the intangiable but nonetheless just as impactful influence of Beth who's stuck on the Aftermath, and suddenly Ezekiel has a whole support system of genuinely kind people who can and will help him learn the ropes of modern society. (Give Ezekiel Friends 2k24‼️)

A direct contrast to Alejandro, who's whole deal is presenting himself as a perfect, infalliable person who doesn't really form any friendships. (Unless you count Heather and maybe Courtney?)

See here's where the two of them play the role of "contrasting narritive foil" for each other. Alejandro and Ezekiel are both fueled by their need to prove themselves by winning, but their methodology is entirely different; Alejandro's game plan is to be as fake and perfect as possible whilst sabotaging the competition and inadvertantly isolating himself, and Ezekiel is just doing his best to play fair whilst learning how to be the most authentic version of himself in the proccess with the help of his friends. (Something something the power of friendship...)

Something to note here: Both of them are trying to prove themselves to their families. Alejandro's trying to prove he can be more than second place (to José, or just in general), and Ezekiel is trying to prove that he can withstand the challenges of the world outside of his family's farm (which he never got the chance to, given he was the first boot of the previous two seasons).

As for Ezekiel being "smarter" and seeing through Alejandro's tricks; I'd like to veto that idea and offer you this instead.

Ezekiel has gullibility and naivety practically woven into the threads of his character, so of course he'd be in the same boat as Owen and Tyler. That is to say, he'd initially be one of Alejandro's most staunch defenders, since he doesn't have the intelligence or the instincts to see past his fake exterior, as Ezekiel isn't worldly enough to know how to spot a fake.

And that's exactly what causes Alejandro's downfall.

As stated before, Ezekiel is annoying by design. Pair his enthusiasm with an idolisation towards Alejandro (for being an objectively strong competitor, or whatever reason you want) and you've got the perfect recipe for Alejandro to blow up at Ezekiel once his already negligable patience snaps. Probably in a scene similar to the confrontation he has with Owen in the Amazon.

All of a sudden, Ezekiel has seen Alejandro's true colours and the rose-tinted glasses he's been blinded by come shattering to the ground - and the knowledge that's been painstakingly imparted onto him by Lindsay and Beth comes into play. Alejandro is a bad guy, just like Zeke's dad.

From then on, Ezekiel is hesitant around Alejandro. Quiet, uncharacteristically so. The sight of unapologetically loud and obtuse Ezekiel being subdued (scared?) of Alejandro has the other contestants beginning to question his performative geniality. If Zeke of all people doesn't trust him, it must be a bad sign.

[yuurei20]

Toboso Yana on the creation process for Twisted Wonderland:

"For the main story, first I create a rough plot and submit it to Disney for approval.

After that, I discuss with the development team what elements we want to introduce per scene: ADV, rhythmics, battles, etc., and complete the scenario as a whole.

What I always keep in mind when writing scenarios is that the aim is not for it to be 'loved by everyone'.

Villains are not meant to be loved and cheered on by everyone.

They are villains: they were created to be hated.

That is why there is sometimes something attractive about them…

As long as villains are the basis for these characters, I think it is important that they never become overly good people.

Of course, there are limits.

And in cooperation of Disney we have been very particular about following storylines and quoting dialogue from the movies, so that people who have never seen the original films will want to see them for the first time, and those who have seen them will want to see them again.

The vignettes and event stories are technically spin-offs of the main story, but there are a lot more scenarios involved than are in the main story.

We try to delve deeper into the characters through their daily lives on campus and how they deal with the problems they face.

I think there are actually many players who look forward to these spinoffs more than they do to the main storyline.

That is why we want it to feel like the characters in each subplot are recalling living in the same world as the main story.

But how can we direct all these different stories in such a way that there is a sense of continuity? …this is an ongoing issue.

Vignettes, in particular, are often depicted not from the perspective of the player, but from the subjective viewpoint of the character in question, and the way the story is depicted varies depending on the relationships between them and other characters.

For example, B may be a black-hearted jerk from A's point of view, but from C's point of view, B may actually be competent, dependable and an overall good guy...

It is necessary to reconcile the two viewpoints on a case-by-case basis.

Currently, I can't think of any other way to uphold continuity besides reading through all of the stories and making changes when needed, again and again.

So that's what I do.

It is a daily process of trial and error.

Sometimes the relationship between characters changes completely in the main storyline, which will leave me scratching my head and wondering, 'When did that part happen?'.

However, I am sure that more and more events are going to be held in the future, so I am wondering if parallel and 'if' worlds are going to start appearing.

As for chats, we always try to make sure that involve a reference to the original work that inspired the character in question.

Since the Disney Villains are the 'Great Seven' in this world, it's a perfect topic for the characters to discuss after class.

We thought it would be great if people who like the villains could get excited along with the characters.

On the other hand, if you are not familiar with the movies being referenced, I hope it might feel as if the characters are teaching you."

[drconstellation]

A Tale of Two Peacocks

The Relationship Between Gabriel and Michael

Some weeks ago I said I would take on the challenge of looking at the relationship between Gabriel and Michael, then I got sidetracked writing something else* - which is not always a bad thing. But I want to return to this because its too good not to do a post on it, and before I get too deeply involved in the other writing.

This is definitely going to involve some NSWF language - hey, I can't help this, its in the script - so the bulk of this is going to be below the cut. But the short of it is, they have a fairly low opinion of each other.

We need to go back to S1, where there is an interesting set of parallel scenes we should start our discussion with that spells it out for us. The first one is in S1xE2, and the other is actually in one of the deleted scenes from the cold opening of S1xE3, and they both use parallel characters to inform us of what Gabriel and Michael think of each other.

It turns out I've already talked about the first one, in this meta here, where I discuss how Newt is a parallel for Crowley.

Then [Frobisher] power-walks past. Newt is not even worth her time stopping for. "Need a hand, Dick?" *Snort* - and ouch. That's a below-the belt joke. She's just called him a wanker. In the US you might use the term jerk instead. Someone who's a bit egotistical and more in it for themselves than others. (and I never thought I'd be fact-checking the meaning of this word ever, but there's always a first time...) She's basically just equated him Gabriel, in my book (and in more ways than one.)

And I wrote all that months before I started writing my Crowley-Gabriel parallel/foil series, too.

The other thing about this first parallel scene is the character of Frobisher, who is dressed very much like a demon, but is actually the parallel character to Michael, as we see later on in the paintball fight at Tadfield Manor.

(Er, I know this is all a bit 2nd/3rd hand evidence, but the second scene is a bit more direct, so bear with me.)

The second one, in S2xE3, is the deleted bookshop opening scene.

Source: Script for the unaired scene of Aziraphale opening his bookshop in 1800

Oh, look at that. Somebody is being called a wanker. Again. This time it's Crowley calling Michael a wanker, however, and its only one step to the side with Crowley being a parallel character to Gabriel (and I challenge you to watch s1 again in this light after finishing this post, and see how many similarities you can see between Crowley and Gabriel showing through even back then.)

OK. So we've established that Gabriel and Michael both think each other are wankers at this point, but what else can we find out about them?

Peacock Fighting

I've written a couple of posts about peacock symbolism. Firstly, Michael is strongly associated with having many eyes - their Ophanim ring, their costume has eye motifs, and they are essentially head of surveillance for Heaven. So this made me think they might be the peacock referred to in the Job minisode.

But later, after more research, it became apparent the lines paraphrased in Job were definitely referring to Gabriel. (See also Judgement Day.) There are associations with both royalty and vanity there.

They are both peacocks, but for different reasons.

And they are also both in competition with one another.

Gabriel Doesn't Have A Desk

Desks are a symbol of power in western society.

The bigger, and more solid the desk in a corporate office, the higher up the person is.

The teacher at the front of the room, the authority in the room, has a bigger desk than the students.

Those desks offer protection to the person in authority sitting behind them. They mark a separation between that said authority and the masses they command on the other side. Only the most trusted get to come around to the same side that they are sitting on to be more intimate with them.

At work, your desk is connected to your identity there. Its your place in the organization. You may even individualize it with decorations.

Just take a look at what Newt was bringing on his first day to work in S1xE2:

Pens, a pen holder, notepads, a ball of rubber bands, a plant (a bromeliad, a plant that does well in fully shaded damp environments, just like Hell) and some rations. Er, I mean lunch. Given to him by God Frances his mother.

The travesty of the modern trend of "hot desking" is de-personalizing the employee. They are no longer a valued employee with a valued place, they're just another faceless cog in the grind.

We see Michael behind a desk as Duty Officer in S2. It's starkly clean and sharp and made of glass, as we would expect to find in Heaven. It's used a shield and badge of office when we see them fulfilling that role.

Michael doubts Gabriel has a desk, although Gabriel insists he does, even though we have never seen it. Yet he still requires the proverbial archive box for moving locations?

I'm just going to leave the parallel between Newt and Gabriel there for further discussion. Please do remember the bottom falls out of Newt's box in the car park, leaving him with an empty box, too.

(Muriel has a glass desk, too, but interestingly they don't have a chair. You might like to compare their encounter with Aziraphale in the Job minisode to the escapade with Crowley in the present day. There is volumes said without words.)

Just while we are on the subject of desks, thought you might like to compare Crowley's and Aziraphale's desks as well. They are always on about how much paperwork they have to do!

Sovereign versus Disciplinary Power

This is eventually going to turn into a discussion about fate versus free will at some point, but I do need to talk about the different types of power first, because I haven't done my long promised Power and Authority meta yet. The two concepts are closely related, and Gabriel and Michael are each acting as foils for a side of the concepts.

Gabriel represents sovereign power, the supreme legitimate power of the state. Power and action trickles down from the top, and punishment is almost a show of entertainment, but one designed to educate. "Oh, those angels Fell - if I do something bad, I might Fall, too!" And so Gabriel expects to Fall when he is given his trial, and Aziraphale when he lies to save Job's children.

Michael is representing disciplinary power, something that lies at the heart of society today. This is where power is spread among individuals, and individuals are more likely to do their own discipline merely because of an overhanging threat of a possibility they may get caught if they do.** Are they being watched? Who might see and report their transgression? Michael has eyes (and ducks) everywhere... So does Orwell's book 1984.

This is a very simplistic view, of course - reality is more complex than that, and is usually a combination of the two, but we have to start somewhere.

Now lets throw the fate vs free will components into the mix. Let us revisit the story of King Cnut and the tide.

The story, if you are not familiar with it, is that Cnut had his throne set on the beach and commanded the incoming tide to halt where it was, and not to wet his robes or feet. Of course, the tide kept rising and splashed the king, where he leapt up and declared his might and power as a king worthless compared to that of God. The story is meant to demonstrate his piety before Heaven, and that he was not the ultimate controller of all things - his sovereign power was limited.

They say time and tide*** wait for no man - we are at the mercy of what ever fate they bring us, and we can't manipulate that. That's decided by the supreme power, the ultimate sovereign power, so to speak.

Gabriel tends to take this line - he does not have control over the summoning of the Four Horsepeople, they are just happening as they supposed to, and that's not his department. Plausible deniability, baby! Back channels? What back channels, Michael?

So if you did want to have some power over it, some free will to control outcomes? But hang on - every one else has free will as well. Sounds a bit chaotic. Who's in charge? Nobody. Everybody. Welcome to Michael's world. They want the power, they're prepared to fight for it, for what they think is right - but so is everyone else.

But what if you were the creator of free will itself? Would you be The One to have control over time and the tides?

Tadfield Manor, Again

Michael is the archangel who throws Lucifer down from Heaven, and we see this play out at Tadfield Manor during the paintball fight, when we are shown that it is actually Frobisher/Michael who shoots the shot that hits Norman/Lucifer in the heart - although we are initially made to think its Nigel/Gabriel who did it. (One day I will teach my self how to make GIFs and make a GIF of this.)

Frobisher is the more competitive one at all times - she is the only other employee besides the naive Newt to put their hand up when Nigel asks who is looking forward to the Training Initiative and she asks Crowley and Aziraphale "Who's winning?" as she runs past them inside - to which Crowley presciently declares "You're all going to lose."

If you look at the extended scene in light of the above, you can see sovereign authority of senior manager Nigel/Gabriel is still floating around as a rather toothless tiger to the whims of fate, while everyone else is exercising their free will and disciplinary powers to try and control one another. And, as Crowley says, nobody wins. It's a lose-lose situation.

Michael is competing for an empty dream.

Gabriel is trying his best to survive something that is not what it seems.

And...I think I'll leave it there. Thanks for reading.

*I've started writing a multi-chapter human AU fanfic. But I'm a slow writer, and I'm not writing it in a linear fashion - because it has to be stuffed full of meta, of course - so I decided I better pull myself out of it before I got pulled in too far and finish a couple of things off so you didn't think I'd disappeared completely. I wasn't planning on doing one, but you know how these things go - one day an idea just pops into your head, the next thing the characters are talking to you and taking on their own life and a couple of thousand words later...

**There was a post about the oculus, (found it! thanks to gallup24) the round skylight window in the roof of the bookshop and the Panopticon, an infamous prison design where the prisoners can all see each other but can't see if the guard is watching them, but of course I've lost track of it, haven't I.

***The tides are controlled by the Moon and Sun, and ostensibly for this argument, by Heaven as well. They are fated to continue in their set orbit and/or path through the sky - or the Earth on it's orbit around the Sun, is probably the better way of looking at it.

[novlr]

How do you make readers see that the characters you are writing about have a platonic relationship not a romantic one without writing he's a father figure to her or someone asking the question ‘why you two are not together?’ To which they reply something which implies they have a platonic relationship. Like how to show without saying or writing particular words?

This is an excellent question with many layers. I’ve addressed elsewhere how to write long-established loving relationships where I explored romantic vs companionate love. Let’s dig deeper into emotional intimacy, which I see as the basis for both platonic and romantic relationships. But first, let’s take a detour into authorial intent.

Authorial intent

I think every writer has experienced that moment when a reader latches onto something in the work – a relationship, a plot point, a world building thread – and runs off in a direction the author did not intend. Witness the wild and prolific world of fanfic.

I take it as a compliment that people connect with my work and expand on it in their own imaginations. I admit to sometimes being puzzled by where they go with it. Recognizing this happens can save you a lot of headaches.

That obviously platonic relationship you wrote? There will be readers who will, in their own headcanon, make it romantic. Not what you wanted, and it can be frustrating, especially if you are trying to explore platonic relationships. My advice is to shake it off and don’t worry about it. You can’t control how others relate to your work or what speaks to them. 

With that out of the way, let’s talk about ways to clearly signal which type of relationship it is and how to avoid signaling that you really intend for it to be romantic at some point in the future.

Platonic vs romantic relationships

Start by thinking of the various platonic relationships in your life and that you see around you. Observe people in coffee shops, parks, restaurants. Can you tell by watching which people are in romantic relationships and which are good friends? What are the differences you see between friendships and romantic relationships?

Look at personal space, eye contact, nicknames, the patterns of speech used, and how they touch or don’t touch one another. This also needs to be looked at through the lens of what is appropriate for the given culture. Now think about best friends. This is a very common platonic relationship. What does that look like?

It’s easy to see how the two types of relationships can be confused. Both are often lifelong and carry a lot of emotional intimacy. What secrets does your best friend know about you? Who do you go to when you need to solve a problem? To further complicate it, many people consider their romantic partner to be their best friend. Think of it as a Venn diagram. There is a lot of overlap between platonic and romantic relationships. 

Show vs tell 

So how does an author signal its platonic and not romantic? You can, of course, just tell the reader that X is Y’s best friend and there is no romantic attraction. Does the reader believe you? Let’s look at a few ways you can show that is the case. 

Are either of them in a romantic relationship? Have them discuss their lovers past and present. 

A corollary to the above – have one act as the other’s wingman in a social situation.

How are you describing physical contact between the two? How does a platonic hug differ from a romantic one? Do they link arms when walking? How is that different from how they would do so with a lover? 

Give them more of a sibling vibe, and think about how siblings treat each other. 

How do your characters feel about romance in general? Is one or the other asexual? 

Emotional intimacy

Whatever you do, don’t shy away from writing about emotional intimacy. Have your characters share their problems, feelings, and secrets. How do they help one another or get in one another’s way? How do they joke with each other? Then find ways of showing how they do that differently in a romantic relationship. You can also do that with secondary characters in your work who are in a romantic relationship. That contrast will help make your point that it’s platonic. 

Finally, it is absolutely ok if you don’t want to write about romantic relationships at all or you are writing an asexual character who would never have a romantic relationship. You can still do the compare-and-contrast to background characters or social expectations. A quick line here and there will also cover it. Asexual characters can express how they just don’t feel attraction or are disgusted by romance or certain types of physical contact. You can have someone ask, “Is this your boyfriend/girlfriend?” and have your character respond. It can be an opportunity to show how they imagine that scenario.

[imbecominggayer]

How To Write Time Skips

From @ravennova7: How to you handle time skips in stories? I can write out scenes happening in real time, but narrative summarising isn’t something I’m good at. I just can’t seem to write exposition properly. "

And so, this post will be dedicated to how to write time skips!

A) Introduction

It's important to properly weave time skips into the story. Without the proper set-up for time progression, the audience can quickly loose their footing. Even if you are trying to write a story where the audience gets thrown of their feet, the readers need some type of directioning.

In order to incorperate time skips into the story, you need to soften the edges between here and now.

If you are writing a time skip in one chapter, you could use an expository phrase such as "three months passed...", "one day morphed into the next and suddenly...", "by the time...", and all those other types of phrases.

When you are writing the time skip across different chapters, in my opinion, it's easier to write a skip in time due to the fact that's more weaved into the formatting of the story.

You could change the perspective to a new character or return the perspective to the original holder.

One example of a time skip I really liked was when a character was trapped in time. From their perspective, we see them walking up to and shattering a hourglass. When we meet up with another character, we learn that some time has passed.

It felt jarring but not as jarring as it could have been if that scene wasn't in there.

Overall use section breaks to establish that the flow of the narrative has changed. I also try to use running themes throughout the time skip as a way of linking these two scenes together. It could be through the same character being the focus of the scene. It could be a "before vs after" type of comparison in which a character tries to do something two different times to show change. Basically, a training montage.

Another example of a time skip that was used effectively was "What Remains Of Edith Finch". Specifically, the ending monologues. The protagonist's ever-present narration guided the audience through the many years that passed. The story keeps the same emotional through line as everything feeds into one another. It feels like a conversation.

B) Limitation And Usage

Time skips are used to skip over detail that isn't providing necessary information. Movies often use montages to communicate that time is passing.

Time skips and montages are necessary tools because readers don't want to sit through weeks of the same character going to the gym.

Time skips, in my opinion, should be used sparingly and only when necessary. It's exceedingly jarring. It can smack down on the emotional threwline. It's messy.

REMEMBER: Don't use time skips to skip out on character growth.

I remember this one f*cking time when the protagonist got injured. Then a second later. He's healed. This would be fine. UNTIL

They had this protagonist undergo MASSIVE character growth WITHOUT ME! This guy wasn't my protagonist. He was suddenly nice! He was confident. He was best friends with everyone now!!?! He was suddenly besties with this guy who was his enemy just two seconds ago!!!!?!

I had to drop the story.

Try to keep character relationships the same through the time skips if you are "going to black". If you are pulling a montage move where you pass through the events of their friendship building then it's fine. If you have a character think about why their relationship changed, fine.

BUT NEVER just randomly have your protagonist suddenly change! Explain the change. I'm in your character's head to see their progression. To be there on their journey, dont make me skip the big action sequence!

Use time skips to skip over the in-between steps. Skip over the characters buying a ticket. Skip over the character's walk up the stairs. Skip over the fight sequence.

But don't skip over important and potentially engaging character development!!!!

C) Selective Conclusion

Remember, narrative isn't real time. Our experience of time isn't real time. Five minutes could be too soon to say everything you need to say or it could be the most agonizing amount of time to hold your breathe.

You probably skip over time naturally. You don't write a character's every errand nor their every thought. The only time the camera touches down on a character is when it's narratively relevant.

To decide when a scene is important, establish what information you need to know in order to fulfill the plot.

If you have a character you want to show as both in love with Girl and bad at school. You can have a character walking out the school, textbooks heavy in hand, who suddenly bumps into Girl.

Then use a transitional sentence to show the audience that we are done. "Well, at least there's one good thing about school".

[general-cyno]

I've been musing about it for a while, thanks to some posts I've read recently too, and honestly... one of the (many) fascinating aspects of zolu to me is the way they share parallels/connections and or similarities to important figures in OP's world. spoilers for the most recent arcs and reveals ahead!

perhaps the most blatant and one of my personal favorites, are luffy and zoro's similarities to roger and rayleigh. as OP's mc and someone who's on the road to become the pirate king, luffy's own similarities to roger have come up a lot throughout the story and they've been acknowledged or pointed out by other characters like shanks, rayleigh himself and yamato, for example. from the goofy parts of their personalities, to the strength of their wills, and their dreams, luffy and roger's parallels are consistent in OP,

and as seen in rayleigh's brief memory of their first meeting, the straw hat luffy received from shanks was originally worn by roger back when he was young.

albeit the circumstances are a little different - with them stumbling upon each other by chance vs luffy going out of his way to meet zoro after learning of his name and reputation - this first meeting is still reminiscent of zoro and luffy's, with both ray and zoro initially rejecting roger and luffy's invitations to join them in their journey.

as for rayleigh and zoro, there's also a bunch of parallels between the two!

due to his previous time as a bounty hunter in the east blue, zoro made quite a name for himself and as OP progresses, his renown as the pirate hunter and the straw hats' swordsman is only second to luffy's. he was also the 2nd straw hat to get a bounty, and he's usually right behind luffy whenever their bounties go up. similarly, rayleigh was (and still is) considered a legend second to roger himself, strong enough that garp still views him as a powerful foe the marines can't easily defeat and managed to scare blackbeard away from amazon lily without an actual fight, despite the latter's strength.

there's other stuff too: the eye scars, both zoro and ray being greatly skilled swordsmen, their love for booze, being users of all three types of haki and even their epithets! from what I've read from other OP fans in discussion threads and through some internet search, rayleigh's title of "dark king" in jp is actually the name or word for pluto (the god of the underworld, roman mythology's equivalent to hades) in said language. in comparison, "enma", the name of zoro's most recently acquired sword and the "king of hell" title that he claimed after defeating king in wano, are a direct reference to the buddhist deity of the same name in jp mythology, also known as yama - a god of the underworld in charge of judging souls.

from the most recent flashbacks of the god valley incident, too, you can see the physical resemblance between these duos:

(as a bit of a side note, I think it was nice that rayleigh not only took it upon himself to mentor luffy, he was also the one who protected zoro from kizaru in sabaody and after the timeskip, during the straw hats' reunion in the archipelago and as they bid their farewells, zoro went out of his way to thank him for everything too.)

all in all, considering how close roger and rayleigh were (to the point roger called him "partner"), their strength, reputation and their overall journey with the roger pirates crew - the fact that luffy and zoro share more than a few clear similarities/parallels to them is really good imo, and it speaks both of the importance of their relationship and of the kind of figures they're bound to become, or are already becoming, in OP's world and ongoing history.

although it'd be sweet to have zoro and luffy directly refer to each other as partners as well (which kid and killer, another captain/first mate duo, have done too) I'm not sure it'll happen, if only for the sake of keeping the relationships between luffy and the crew balanced, so to say. still, like I said, knowing how close luffy and zoro are and that they share parallels with other captains/first mates, I think that says a lot about them regardless and the importance they hold for each other and the story as a whole.

another interesting resemblance between zolu and characters who are connected to one another involves, of course, shanks and mihawk - both of which are not only acquainted with each other, as rivals and friends of sorts, but also served as luffy and zoro's mentors/guides at different points of their lives and presently stand as their eventual foes to face in order to reach their goals of becoming the pirate king and world's greatest swordsman.

aaand last but not least, because it's yet another favorite of mine: joy boy/nika and shimotsuki ryuma. I sort of talked about it in another post, and I find it pretty cool. nika and ryuma come from different eras and don't exactly have much to do with one another but luffy's DF awakening and defeating kaido led to "joy boy" (since luffy refused to take credit for it directly by name) being hailed as a hero to wano that's comparable and only rivaled by ryuma, who in the past defended the country and was considered a legendary swordsman, whose sword shusui (that zoro wielded for a while) is a national treasure even.

since the hito hito no mi: model nika is a mythical zoan and vegapunk's speculated that devil fruits come into existence as manifestations of hope and wishes (or a potential for human evolution someone's desired), among other things, nika's existence as an actual god is kind of a subject of current debate in the fandom BUT. the fact remains that whether real or myth, he's still mentioned in old texts and his story has been shared among those enslaved by the WG, as a call for hope and freedom. in addition, even though he was human, ryuma also became revered as a savior figure and a sword god by the folks of wano.

so when you have luffy embodying the sun god of joy and liberation,

and it turns out zoro is none other than a descendant of the shimotsuki (frost moon) family, who resembles the former daimyo of ringo and the god of the blade ryuma,

well. those are some crazy parallels luffy and zoro share outside of their equally kinda crazy and meaningful relationship, as individuals and crew.