#btw i put the link in the source instead of the post if that works better?

[me-sploh-rada-imas]

[jennyandvastraflint]

Would love to hear more about your thoughts on the commercialisation of fandom!!

Ooooh, boy you've opened a can of worms. I took a Fan Studies course at uni for a module bc I could choose it, and I did a lot of research into this specific topic... I hope it's okay that I'm just putting in some of my slides and then summarising underneath each!

Now, fandom in, for instance, fan fiction spaces, works on the basis of a Gift Economy in which gifts rather than money are exchanged. However, these gifts aren't just meant for one person, but for many, and even when you for instance do an artwork or a fanfic for someone, other people can still ALSO read it. These gifts can (but don't have to) be responded to with another gift, be it a comment on a fic, or a fic in return. Now, I could go into much more detail here, but I recommend checking out for instance this text by Trisha Turk on the TWC for some more in-depth stuff about this. (I'll list all the sources I used in the presentation in the end btw!) The gist of it is that fandom is a very complex system in which the reciprocation of gifts - and therefore labour - is distributed across the community.

(more under the cut)

HOWEVER capitalism, as always, comes along and tries to ruin things for profit.

Fandoms continue to form because of the unrestricted movement and no one dictating what is well, "really" canon and what isn't. I'm sure you've witnessed some fans in more recent years refusing to ship things that "won't become canon anyway", positioning the canonicity of a ship or a scenario higher than... well, their own critical reflection and interpretation OF the media and their own creative endeavours. At the end of the day, canon for me personally is something to draw on, negotiate with, or reject if it's stupid, while more recent fandoms I've seen sometimes go about their engagement with fandom as a sort of... worshipping of canon almost, and where being noticed by the creators is sort of the ultimate goal.

Now, this is of course connected to corporations realising that hey, actually people engaging with our media and creating something about it bring in numbers, and with them being able to make a profit off of views on social media, they seek to drive certain forms of engagement with the content. However, they are of course seeking to police HOW you engage with things, and don't you dare stray from their vision too much. This, of course, harms especially marginalised communities who propose alternative readings of media, who subvert the show itself and who transform it into something else, adding themselves into the work and into a world where, by design, they were invisible. It's also an attempt to undermine fan activism and grassroots organising by fans (if you wanna hear more about fan activism shoot me another ask and I will ramble <3 edit: link to post about fan activism) by keeping them in line with a sterilised version of fandom. In this sterilised and controlled version, the forms most often encouraged are things like video edits (but don't be too out there, that's bad too) that can be consumed like content by fandom... They like video edits, sterilised fanart, and things that are easily consumed and bring numbers, but "don't you dare write that nasty Spirk fanfiction where they have sex in the captain's chair! Ewww, yuck yuck!"

Rather than having a fandom driven by community, you have one driven by consumption, and that has become increasingly clear in the past few years, with readers on fan fiction asking "When next chapter?", pressuring artists, writers, etc. for more 'content' for them to consume without a) participating in the Gift Economy fandom is built upon and b) realising that these fan works are gifts to the community in the first place, and not content... These are, by the way, often the same fans who will cheer on AI because now they can finally read a story they wanted someone to continue :D Instead of using their own fucking brain, they're asking a bot trained on scraping works to produce them some bad, surface level jumble of words just so they can consume, consume, endlessly consume without ever having to think.

A few years ago (well in like, the late 2000s), a site called FanLib wanted to profit off of the resale of fanfiction, but were quickly shut down. Their mistake was that they mistook the community of fandom for a commodity to exploit for their own commercial interests. I'm not sure you've seen it, but Wattpad has sent authors emails asking them to update their fics frequently because it would appease the algorithm (see Tumblr Post about this here), which leads me to my next little point!

Algorithms! If you have ever done fan edits and posted them on sites like TikTok, Instagram, etc., you'll have noticed that... unless you post regularly and frequently (like. one edit a day at least), the algorithm will NOT push your video at all and it will be buried. Algorithms are based on how well a post performs not in terms of actual community that is built, but of course on numbers. Wattpad also functions on an algorithmic principle, which is why you have some........ individuals coming to AO3 and complaining about the supposed algorithm, spamming their work and reposting it, yadda yadda. Basically, these fans are so used to being spoonfed by an algorithm by now, they are confused when they are actually left on their own and are supposed to learn some basic fandom rules. It's honestly frightening to see fandom not only be reduced to this surface level interaction and to number-based algorithmic systems, but also to the trend-hopping TikTokification of fandom.

A study done by Booth and Dare-Edwards published in 2021 that focused on school age children basically came to the following conclusions... Children still connect "fan" with the same stereotypes of obsessive and unruly individuals that were plaguing us thirty years ago. A whole bunch of children think fandom is a thing of the past and that it peaked in the early 2000s - and while fandom of course is different now and has changed with the spread of the internet, fandom very much still is A Thing. Further, children connected fandom and being a fan mostly with buying merchandise and collecting, and also with plain consuming content, echoing "neo-liberal associations of ‘emotion’ with ‘buying power’, but at the same time, seemed to pathologize those who practice fandom (as they see it) ‘too much’" (Booth and Dare-Edwards 230). The text concludes that while there has been an explosion of media and you are becoming more multi-facetted in what you are a fan of, lilypad hopping and essentially abandoning fandoms after a brief period of surface level engagement and consuming content is increasingly becoming more common. From my own experience, this is for instance the case with shows like Willow (2022), Good Omens(ish), etc. Pretty much anything more recent doesn't have as stable a fanbase and if you enter the fandom a month too late it's already fizzing out. It's really fucked up, honestly.

Right, after that long tangent about this, I want to bring up ancillary models, which is an attempt by capitalist companies to market the previously unwanted Gift Economy of fandom as something new and desirable, but something they are in control of.

Ancillary Content Models try to lure fans in with "free" Behind-the-Scenes content. The guise they have stolen from fandom of acting like a Gift Economy of saying "here, this is for all our dedicated fans <3 Consume :D" is used to downplay the commercial infrastructure these Content Models (honestly it's already in the name). The "gifted" content is more concerned with getting loads of people to individually consume as much of it as possible to create an alternative revenue on for instance social media through views, clicks, likes, etc. They're essentially trying to commercialise our viewing time and keep us engaged with that additional content as much as possible. Rather than having a community that comes together to share their ideas and stories around a metaphorical campfire, Ancillary Content Models want each person alone to sit and stare at the stuff they put out as much as possible, always placidly clicking "like" and demanding more. They also want to cultivate an "official" fan community (aka the ones most dedicated to consuming additional content) that they can monitor and control, and they don't encourage anything that's too... out there, too subversive, too queer, etc. Coined "re-gifting economy" by Suzanne Scott, capitalism with these Ancillary Content Models has warped the Gift Economy fandom functions on into a model that equates consumption with community, and which wants to profit off of fans' engagement and their free labour of making viral TikTok edits that adhere to the sterilised version of what a fan "should be". The example I used in my presentation for this is from The Dragon Prince, which, while I do love the show, has been pushing such Ancillary Content Models. They also have a Discord (which is regulated and monitored) as their "official fan community" place, and not only are the rules pretty strict, but it also just... doesn't feel like a community but just like a bunch of people wanting more content gathered in one place :/

Now, to conclude this, capitalism sucks and is trying to ruin fandom communities in order to replace them with something they can make some more money of, and rather than having a critical fanbase that questions things, they want one that endlessly consumes the "free" content they churn out. Stay active in fandom, remember we're a Gift Economy, learn the fandom rules, and keep hating capitalism <3

Fan Work: Labor, Worth and participation in Fandom's gift economy by Trisha Turk

Now, the sources I have used for this...

Repackaging fan culture: The regifting economy of ancillary content models by Suzanne Scott

Stanfill, Mel. “The Fan Fiction Gold Rush, Generational Turnover, and the Battle for Fandom’s Soul.” The Routledge Companion to Media Fandom, edited by Melissa A. Click and Suzanne Scott, New York, 2017, pp. 77-79.

"No one's a fan of anything anymore, this isn't 2002.": Surveying 7–17-year-olds on being a fan and contemplating the future of fandom. by Paul Booth and Helena Louise Dare-Edwards

[postive-rainworld-anarchy-conf]

i’ve been waiting for people to realize azriel was a terrible person since last december. he reblogged a callout post (full of false accusations about zoophillia and stuff, as per usual) and then just DUMPED this huge rant about how incest fanfiction made him think it was okay to kiss his brother when he was 14.

no i’m not joking. obviously i can’t put a link here but: tumblr dot com / azrielfiend / 737002511661187072/tws-for-a-much-of-stuff-im-reblogging-again-but

just remove the dots and spaces and it’ll take you to the post, but in case you don’t want to, a DIRECT QUOTE from it is: “proshipping influenced me SO much that i almost (romantically and unconsensually) kissed my brother on the lips before my dad stopped me. speaking of my dad, i had intrusive thoughts about him and having crushes on him too.”

it just goes to show that this guy is fr not okay. even at 14, all the incest fanfiction in the WORLD could make me EVER make me think that incest is okay?? you couldn’t waterboard that info out of me either idk why he just randomly decided to dump that shit on some post like that (probably for pity points and to get attention…)

looking at it, and btw for anyone that doesn't know, you HAVE TO make your stuff screenreader accessible, not just because someone else might need it, but because if you ever need it for whatever reason, even for a bit (like after an eye surgery) it sucks to not be able to read what you've written.

especially when in tags, it makes it worse since people who wish to avoid those things can't when you do stuff like put zeros instead of an O, or a 4 instead of an r.

this is just a massive pet peeve of mine, but I read stuff like this and wonder why they are even censoring it like that?

read it and uh.

no yeah, no. ok no what I see what you mean, holy fuck. I mean way to sacrifice yourself to make a point there but damn.

"that sentence is also ableist because it assumes everyone can just tell it apart easily and youre dumb for not being able to."

uh, eh, ah. ok, I mean like. ok???? in that case, don't read it??? what

"i cant rest easy knowing proshippers would influenced kids like how they influeneced me in the past. its haunting, if you say this isnt harmful. then youre surely mistaken. im done. do not argue me on this im just so upset people are defending moonstone."

I think this just you, honestly???

I'm sorry but what the fuck did I just read

huh. that sure was a take & the half

I don't think this was developed because you were in the proshipping community, I just think you had incestuous thoughts about your brother and father? and then tried rationalizing why you did that as being convinced to do so because of proshipping. (even though most proshippers, not all, but most will tell you to not fuck your family, and instead read stuff about it instead or something) instead of realizing that maybe you just wanted to kiss your brother and were looking for an excuse.

this is all on you probably?

like you don't just get thoughts like that from outside sources. that comes from you.

but also at the same time, I don't know the situation, so who knows.

like it's fine to have incestuous thoughts and all, alot of people do. but the problem is acting on them... especially when it's non-consensual...

you have to work through them, not work for them.

well that was interesting

[raihanijulie]

[ LEMNISCUS GUIDE BLOG!!! ]

☆Reading until end of blog will be much appreciated!!! (Psst, theres a discord server link i slipped in btw....)

Picture below isnt accurate with tumblr bc this was made for instagram post.

You may be wondering... "What is Lemniscus? Why do you keep mentioning it in your posts?"

TO BEGIN WITH, Lemniscus is one of the planets in this universe with Ribbaniuns the living beings in it! The population of Lemniscus consist the various anthropomorphic animals.

And thats where we begin sharing the story and contents of these characters by the name LEMNISCUS! You could say Lemniscus is a series/project my friends and i worked on together!!! (We took Lemniscus bc we literally only focus on this planet... No else.)

Ah... So then, "Who are the characters? Why do they look like the characters from Sonic series?"

THIS. is a good one to explain and i reallly want you guys to keep in mind with this!!!!

Yes! The Lemniscus cast does look like the characters from Sonic the hedgehog because they do take the design and traits inspiration from them! BUT! The personality, backstories, interractions, lores, all of those... We worked and develop on it ourselves!!! (Theres similiarities still, but its only SLIGHT!!! Theres some differences when compared)

Thats why this is NOT counted as Sonic au, instead, its their own universe and story! The Lemniscus cast are original characters/ocs based on existing character that later we develop so they wont look EXACTLY like the existing char they took inspiration of!

I could say that this universe's origins of making is basically 'based on Sonic'. Throughout time, there are improvisasion little by little as we worked on building chars and stories, making it their own thing :D!! So, again, Lemniscus and Sonic are two different thing... I appreciate yall's understanding. I dont want any miscommunication between Lemniscus and Sonic franchise! <"3

The original characters belong to their respective owners <3 (Keep in mind we are 4 person putting our characters in ONE and worked together in this)

Alright!!! Now INTRODUCE THE CAST/CHARACTERS!

Here ill list out the characters name with their profile links AND respective owners too! Get to know each of them by clicking their names:

Hz Railstar, Alora Quinn, Victoria Opal, Ezra (JULIE/HANA!!! ME!!! :D HOIHOI!!! I link you guys to my chars' masterpost in tumblr hehe,,, its more detailed!!!)

Gausberto, Nova, Puffin, Xenophone (Hani! NOTE: She doesnt put much infos of her characters, i'll most likely be the one to share the infos through source from her she is my own sister after all Infos about Hani's chars are most likely in the discord server!)

Aero and Noire ( @m3tr0n0m333 )

Rambutan Stoneheart ( @cherriosblog )

OH!!! But thats not it!! Theres more infos i'd like to share....

Slowly but surely, we noticed our Lemniscus contents dragged people to start being curious about it, even interested with the series/project we worked! Of course, with a warm welcome, we opened a discord server, ☆LEMNISCUS (Hz Universe), for the little community we have :D!!!

The server is a great place for you to learn more about the characters (bc again, SOME of the Lemniscus cast here are explained alot more in the discord server instead!) and LORESSS obviously! Its even easier and you can keep on track whenever new things are shared by us :)

The characters arent only the ones shown here... In fact, there are more than you think. Yes! Im talkin bout the side characters! Theyre mostly explained and digged alot more in the server soo....

Hop in and join to get more familliar of Lemniscus!! ☆

.

This must conclude the blog. Thank you everyone for the consideration and supports of this little project we worked on! <3 I, the one to start all this fun chaotic universe is very grateful that i'd make it this far by sharing contents of these silli cast, not only me, but by you dedicated supporters and friends that worked alongside me ☆

Live, laugh, burn Hertz!🔥🔥🔥🔥

[reserved-system]

Love is Blind [HSBB]

You know that moment when you've known someone for so long that it feels like you've own them forever? That how this fic reads :D It's so light, and fluffy. In this AU Grian is blind and has a massive crush on Scar, whom he shares an apartment building with. How does the rest unfold? You'll have to read the fic and find out yourself!

[Link here!]

Maggiee did such a wonderful job, and was our biggest supporter during this! So let's go show them some love! Another huge shout out to the mods and specifically Dux for putting this event together! Check out the #hsbb 2023 tag for more works and fics like this!

Extras under cut - Wips, rambles, the whole nine yards

Over the course of 2 months, this piece took us nearly 16 and a half HOURS. Up until switching to Procreate I never had an art program that timed how long I worked on something. If CSP has this feature I must've not been able to find it.

The amount of time is pretty stunning to me. I'd say 16 hours isn't that bad! At least by my own standards.

Absolutely shocked by the amount of strokes btw. That's fucking insane.

So for once I actually went at this with a few thumbnail sketches and this was the winner out of the 3 and I blew it up to size and started the finalized sketch.

The funniest thing is I started this right before my art style decided to change so I hope you enjoy the old art style :P <3

So, I did something interesting here. In the past when we would do full pieces we would do a lineless background, so everything besides the characters were painted lineless.

THIS time we decided to line the background with maroon instead of black to help break up the characters from the background so they pop! more and I really like how it turned out and we're happy to say this has carried over into other pieces. :]

I want you to pay attention to Scar's wheelchair in these shots, it's the only thing that changes. I remember doing the shading on the background and main color on the characters all in one night because I was having a bad bout of insomnia and I posted my progress in the artist wip-sharing channel on our event server and looked back at it the next morning and was SO embarrassed I had to fix it. This is also when I changed references.

For some reason I didn't capture any in progress shots of the shading but we did manage to get a few shots of Grumbot. :] He's modeled after a labadoodle! While working on this the team and I discovered that's what they were originally bred for, to be hypoallergenic guide dogs! Isn't that cool!?

[With the source we found here]

My partner and I own a poodle and he was kind enough to be my reference/model. He was well compensated with treats don't worry.

Anyways, thank you for reading our rambles! Whether you're here from a reblog, from the fic itself, or were already following us. I hope you enjoyed! Be sure to keep your eyes peeled for the rest of our pieces for the event.

From the Reserved System, Happy HSBB everyone!! <3 <3 <3

[thepuckishrogue]

Javier Escuella x GN!Reader in: What You Want, What You Need

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | f!reader | m!reader ||

|| javier m.list | rdr m.list | writing blog ||

↠ Requested By: The absolutely unreal levels of thirst I have for this man ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: So very NSFW ((is2g, if I see any minors interacting with my stuff it’s ~on sight~)) ↠ Chronology: In the here and now because it’s a Modern AU ↠ CWs/TWs: There a lot, but the biggest are mild exhibitionism, m!dom/sub dynamics, rough treatment/sex (Reader receiving), jealous Javier (but make it non-toxic), light choking (Reader receiving), and orgasm denial/control (Reader receiving). For a complete and more detailed listing see the note below the cut. And if I missed anything, please let me know!! ↠ Betas? Lmaoooooo… ↠ Total WC: 7.5k~

“Oh fuck you, Escuella.” “You’d best watch that mouth of yours, mi amor. Just because daddy-dearest can’t take you over his knee anymore doesn’t mean your papi won’t.”

A Modern AU in which you take your teasing a little too far at a friend’s party. In return Javier will make sure that you get what you deserve before you get what you need.

He’s using papi SARCASTICALLY ffs lmao

‼ PLEASE NOTE THAT I AM NO LONGER POSTING NEW WORKS TO THIS ACCOUNT ‼

The only reason I’m putting the GN version on here is because it doesn’t make sense to break them up. If you want to keep up with my work, head over to my writing blog, linked above. ((that’s where the link for my rdr m.list will take you, btw))

Anyways! Sorry it took me so long to write this. I have no excuse aside from being lazy and not wanting to cringe my way through reading my old writing lol.

Also! I’m trying something new, as far as translations go. Instead of having them all at the top of the post, they’re now directly under the paragraph they appear in. Imo this makes for an easier read, but if it’s having the opposite effect let me know; if enough people are having problems with it I’ll go back to the old format.

((also, also—I’m naught but a basic ass English speaker and thusly all translations are still internet-sourced, so if they’re wrong please refrain from coming for me lol))

💦 Tags: Reader uses they/them pronouns || Reader has ambiguous anatomy || Reader is POC friendly || M!dom/sub dynamics (with Reader being a low-key bratty sub until they sweeten up) || public teasing, but make it ~sexy~ (Javi receiving) || fingering (Reader receiving) || orgasm denial (Reader receiving) || penetrative sex (Reader receiving) || rough treatment/sex (tho not overly so) || one SARCASTIC use of “daddy/papi” || lots of pet names (including that “good baby” type beat, Reader receiving) || Reader purposefully making Javi jealous (in a playful, non-toxic way lol) || Charles is an accomplice in the aforementioned foolishness (there’s an… implied understanding there*) || naturally that means there’s a certain level of exhibitionism but it’s all R-rated stuff || arm binding via a scarf (Reader receiving) || light choking (Reader receiving) || lots of praise (Reader receiving b/c that’s Javi’s jam) || voice kink stuff (goes both ways) || ((write that off to OP being a self-indulgent shit once again lol)) || orgasm control (Reader receiving)

*So basically after fucking around Reader finds out that Javi’s not one to be teased after he winds them up only to leave them wanting. Reader, wanting to get back at him for not finishing the job, utilizes one of their mutual friends (Charles) to stoke a little jealousy, but I swear it’s not as toxic as it sounds lmao. It’s less about actually making him jealous and more about fraying his ironclad sense of control by triggering his possessive streak… Which, okay, still sounds bad I suppose, but there’s being possessive and then there’s being possessive in a hella toxic way; Javi is the latter. What’s more it’s implied that the three of them have an understanding of sorts, so it’s all in good fun.

“Is this what you wanted, mi amor?” ((my love))

Yes, your body screams as his hand works against your center, the drag of his callouses creating a delicious friction with every pass over the hot, sodden flesh. Your hands grip at his shoulders, hard and nearly tight enough to bruise, as you grind up into his touch.

You know you must look thoroughly debauched right now—head thrown back to expose more of your neck to his care, lips slightly parted under pants and half-formed curses, skin flushed and sweat-slick, and eyelids weighed down by the weight of your lust—and that’s saying nothing of the state of your clothes. Items have been hastily tugged and rearranged to get the most needed parts exposed in the quickest amount of time possible. You clearly look like you’re in the process of being ravished, but Javier…

The man couldn’t be more put together if he tried.

There’s not a hair out of place, and despite the desperate hold you have on his shirt, the damn thing hasn’t even so much as wrinkled. The only sign that he’s even the least bit affected by all of this is the tent in his pants and the desire that darkens his gaze, but you suppose that’s to be expected. If he wasn’t so damnably good at keeping his composure you wouldn’t have bothered with doing the things that have led you to this moment.

An ‘accidental’ brush of your fingers against his crotch, whispered filth as you casually rested your weight against his back, the instant transformation of a simple spoon into something far more erotic once it passed your lips—nothing was off limits, not when you were so hell-bent on breaking him. It’s all consensual, this game the two of you play. Sometimes the teasing is mutual, other times it skews a bit more against one of you, but the end goal is always the same: to bring the other so close to the edge that they willingly hurl themselves over it.

Today’s party had been the perfect excuse to indulge in a bit of play, and your man had been all too willingly to serve himself up as prey. This, of course, was due to the fact that he was more than confident in his victory. The thrill of the challenge was the only thing that gave the get-together any allure; sure, Karen and Sean do hold the crown for best house parties in your friend group, but you’re not always sure that they’re worth the (usually hangover induced) headache.

You’d brought you’re A-game, starting with wearing an ensemble that you know he couldn’t resist. His mind had clearly gone blank when you first emerged from the bedroom, though he quickly rearranged his face into something cavalier before telling you to “–get your cute ass in the car so we can get gone.” Your fingers played along the inseam of his pants for the entire length of the ride, but aside from an initial arching of his brow he was annoyingly nonplussed. You had stepped things up considerably once you were inside, but despite essentially giving a plastic spoon a blowie (just out of view of an unsuspecting Arthur and Lenny) the man hadn’t done so much as smirk in your direction.

After a good twenty minutes got you nothing but an ache between your own thighs you finally gave up and decided to try to enjoy the party. With a cup of something mixed and fruity in hand you headed off to join your friends, but before you could make your way into the living room a familiar hand was curling itself around your arm and dragging you off in the opposite direction.

It just fucking figures that being ignored would be the back-breaking straw. You would’ve been mad at it if it wasn’t gonna result in yours getting blown out.

Neither of you said anything as Javier led your deeper into the house, not that there was much to say anyway. It was pretty damn obvious from the set of his jaw and the hunger in his eyes that you had won, and it could never be said that you weren’t a gracious winner …self-satisfied smirk notwithstanding.

His lips were on yours before the door had even fully shut behind you. You had laughed a bit at his eagerness, but the taunting sound soon morphed into a moan when your back slammed into the wall just beside the thing. Eyes smoldering and smile wicked, he groped at your clothed form in a way that had you writhing and grinding against him within seconds. It was only once you were a panting mess that he finally, finally bypassed the layers to touch you properly; hot and wet, proof of your arousal met his questing fingers, electing a groan that was nothing short of orgasmic. Things had moved quickly from there, and the rest…

“I said—‘is this what you wanted?’”

The words are growled against your ear, though the harsh pant of the breaths that follow travel downwards until he’s nipping at the corner of your jaw. A broken mewl pushes past your lips at its sting, and though the sound leaves him shuddering against you, it’s clearly not enough to sate him. His free hand connects with your ass in a resounding slap, one that while not overly hard is still enough weaken your knees considerably.

“Yes,” you groan out, the word catching in your throat as his thumb rubs a fresh pearl of precum over your sensitive flesh. “Fuck! Javi, yesss…”

Hot, bothered, and more than a little desperate you rut against his hand with hard little jerks. Your borderline frantic movements and needy little sounds leave him chuckling darkly as he works you over with practiced ease. His tone is condescending as hell as he pulls more and more out of you with lascivious words murmured in a husky timbre. He’s playing you like a goddamn fiddle, but you don’t care, can’t care—about this or anything else that’s not your impending release.

“Baby, I need, fuck, I need–”

“Shhh, I know.”

And you don’t know how he knows, just that somehow he always, impossibly does, and now is no exception. He descends to his knees with a smoothness that only repetition can bring, nudging your legs wider so that you’re more fully on display for him. He looks up at you then, wanting to make sure that you’re watching—as if you could ever be looking anywhere else. His eyes flicker with a familiar mischief as he runs the flat of his tongue over your heat and you damn near scream at the wet, warm trail it cuts.

“Careful now, cariño, you don’t want them to hear us– Oooo…” The word fades into a rolling chuckle when your hips give an involuntary thrust forward that has him amending his statement. “Or maybe you do? Mmmm… You like that, huh? You like the thought of them hearing what I do to you? Hmm, mi bebé travieso?” He all but purrs the last word as he presses a kiss to your quivering thigh before putting his mouth to work again. He alternates between gentle sucks and teasing flicks of his tongue against your most sensitive areas; meanwhile his fingers gather up a measure of your moisture before pushing inside of you to start up a lazy pace. This treatment lasts for a few glorious seconds only to come to a stop so abrupt that it leaves all of your muscles seizing up in confusion. ((sweetie || my naughty baby))

You know what he wants—an answer to a question, that if he were less petty, he wouldn’t expect a real reply to—just as you likewise know that he won’t start again until he gets it. And so you take a shaky approximation of a breath before managing to stutter out, “J-just… returning the favor.”

Laughing, he takes your meaning instantly. With as many times as you’ve been forced to listen to Karen and Sean go at it on various occasions, it does only seem fair. Of course, your reply is more copout than actual answer, but thankfully he lets it go. For now. You’ll definitely be talking about this again at some point in the future—probably later on tonight, actually—but for right now he’s content enough to go back to ruining you with his deft fingers and talented mouth.

You’ve always been fascinated by Javier’s hands. They’re slightly larger than what you would expect from a man his size, and yet somehow they don’t seem out of proportion to his body. They hold so much potential, both to create and to destroy—a point that is mirrored in the tattoos and scars that cover the dusk of his skin. You love to see them in motion, whether he’s doing something as mundane as tuning his guitar or something more perilous like playing with one of his many knives; the former is a particular point of fascination as you cannot help but to wonder if the skill transfers over to more carnal activities. The way his stroking thumb works in time with the bob of his fingers into your heat you’re inclined to say that yes, yes it does.

And his mouth…

Holy fuck, his mouth.

It doesn’t matter where it is he’s kissing you, having his lips pressed against your skin is always enough to leave you weak. Warm and pillow soft, they glide over you leaving a feverish trail of desire in their wake. Calloused fingers continue to work you open, adding to your pleasure in a way that sees your voice scaling higher, louder, as any lingering worries about being overheard are vaulted clean out of your head.

In this moment his only goal is to see you coming undone, and under Javier’s touch you’re a rapidly fraying thread. He’s loving every minute of this, you know he is, but—“If you can’t keep that pretty little mouth of yours quiet, amor, I know my cock can.”

“Oh my god.”

The throb your core gives is almost painful in its intensity as you imagine having him face fuck you until tears are spilling past the corners of your eyes before bending you over and absolutely ruining you, and you have to wonder just what this man has done to you. You were never this damn kinky before—or maybe you’ve always been a closet freak—either way since getting with Javi you have been turned completely out, and you’re not even mad about it, honestly. What you can do without, however, is his smug little laugh. Like yeah, he totally has a right to it, wrecking you the way he is, but still. Any saltiness you feel is quickly forgotten as the spooled pleasure in your stomach wrings itself tighter. Your bodies work in tandem creating the perfect rhythm, so fucking perfect, and you’re so fucking close, just a little more and then—and then he’s pulling away?

What?

“Nooo! Javier, why–”

“Orgasms are for good little loves,” he tells you simply as he rises back to his full height.

“You cannot be serious right now.”

But looking at him you know he is. Honestly you should’ve been expecting something like this—you had been teasing him for nearly twenty minutes before this all began—but you’d thought that your punishment was going to come in the form of him gagging you with his dick before fucking you until you screamed. But this… Well this is the other side of the coin that you’d forgotten to consider. Yes, he’s hard and yes, he wants this just as badly as you, but Javier’s more than willing to deny his own needs if it means winning this little game of yours. He’s petty like that, and what’s more he has the will to see it through.

Well fine then, you think with a pouty twist of your lips. If he wants to be that way I’ll just finish myself off and–

Fingers close tightly around your wrist before you can properly touch yourself. “What did I just say, bebé?” ((baby))

“And who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do to and with my own body?” you ask with an arch of your brow. The bite of your words would be more effective, you’re sure, if they weren’t so damn breathy, but there’s little for that.

“Oh, mi amor,” he starts with a chuckle as he pins your hand to the wall beside your head, “you know exactly who I am.” He kisses you then, long and deep, and you find yourself melting under it despite your annoyance.

Damn this man and his silver everything! The thought drags its way through your sex-addled brain as your free hand twists itself in his shirt, though whether the action will lead to you pushing him away or pulling him closer you’re not sure yet, and before you can decide he’s breaking the kiss.

“Get dressed, cariño, we’ve got a party to get back to,” he breathes against your lips before pecking at them again.

“You can at least let me err, calm down some and clean myself up a bit–”

He shakes his head as he pulls away from you. “No, I don’t think so. I want you just like this, baby—all leaky and throbbing and wanting. I want you aching just as much as I am. It’s only fair, after all.”

Eyeing the bulge that’s seriously testing the tensile strength of his zipper you’re inclined to agree, reluctantly though it may be done. After all you are the one that kicked things off. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that you’re left to live with the consequences? Yeah, not so much. Fair’s fair, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it. Pouting all the while, you quickly set yourself back to rights—well mostly. Thanks to the hasty tugging of your prior urgency your clothes aren’t hanging like they’re supposed to and won’t be again until they’ve been washed and re-ironed, but there’s nothing to be done about that in the now.

You’re left to silently lament the fact that you’re about to take a mini walk of shame that hasn’t been entirely earned since you didn’t actually get any. Cutting your eyes over at the reason you’re in such a state you find that, aside from his very obvious arousal, the fucker looks as put together as ever.

“You suck, you know that?”

He snorts as he snakes an arm around your waist, guiding you towards the door. “Yeah, I do. I also lick and nip and tease and you love it.”

“Oh fuck you, Escuella.”

“You’d best watch that mouth of yours, mi amor. Just because daddy-dearest can’t take you over his knee anymore doesn’t mean your papi won’t.”

“Promises, promises,” you snark back, though there’s no denying the longing seated in your words.

His only reply is a dark little chuckle that leaves you throbbing with want and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. What’s worse is that you’re about to walk through a party full of all of your friends, and while it’s not the first time they’ve seen you flustered and frazzled like this the situation is still less than ideal. Thankfully the thought of having winks and suggestive comments tossed your way is enough to kill off any lingering lust, but this is going to be a long night either way—or is it?

A plan starts to come together in your mind as you hear Charles’s laughter floating in though the backdoor; he rarely ever laughs loud enough for it to be heard so far away, so you can only imagine what’s been said or done to garner such a reaction. Though his mirth usually runs on the quieter side of things, the man does have a mischievous streak that can almost rival Sean’s, and it’s only common sense and general kindness that keeps him from tapping into it more.

Tonight, however, he’s going to step outside of his self-imposed restrictions—you’ll make sure of it.

After all, your plan relies on it.

“What’s got you laughing so hard, Chuck?”

Charles doesn’t even bother with correcting you as he knows that you’re already well aware of how much he despises that nickname. You’re just looking to get a rise out of him, but unlike your boyfriend, he’s not so easily bated. Though to be fair to Javier, it did take you a good twenty or so minutes to finally break him—maybe more as whatever game it is you two are playing more than like started long before your arrival–

And is set to carry on for a while longer, if the state of them is anything to go by.

He’s hardly surprised to find that the pair of you are looking more disheveled than last you were seen. While Javier’s only slightly mussed, it’s more than obvious that you’ve been taken through your paces. There’s a wrinkle in your clothes that hadn’t been there before and your lips are plush in a way that says you’ve been kissed thoroughly and with a level of enthusiasm that would have left you moaning into the ministration as you grinded into your lover’s palm with needy little ruts of your hips…

He quickly averts his eyes as soon as the thought manifests lest you pick up on the way you’re affecting him—have always affected him, if he’s being honest. And it’s not just you. Javier is dangerously alluring in his own right, and he finds himself falling into his orbit more often than not. He’s never allowed himself to explore whatever it is he feels for either of you as you and Javier have always been a thing, though there’s no point in denying that there’s an attraction there, and a mutual one at that. Javier’s always been the more flirtatious out of the two of you, but when you have a mind to you can fluster him like nobody else. None of you have ever seemed truly interested in taking things beyond that level—yet.

Charles cannot help but to feel that one of these days there’s going to be a shift. The signs are all there, after all; the way you all gravitate towards one another, trading lingering touches and longing looks. Things that he would usually consider an invasion are much welcomed advances when they’re coming from the pair of you and he often finds himself reciprocating without any conscious thought. It’s all so confusing and thrilling and catalyzing that he cannot help but to crave more. Arthur has told him on several occasions to bite the bullet and make a move, but given that he’s dealing with an established couple he’s more than willing to follow your lead on this one.

In the now he gives you a response in the form of a nod towards one of the party’s hosts. Sean is just now scrambling his way back onto the deck (quite literally as he’s opted to climb over the railing instead of using the stairs like a normal person) after an overly-dramatic retelling of one of his more daring exploits had sent him tumbling off of it. Luckily for him the fall was a short one into relatively soft grass, so really it’s only his pride that’s been bruised. Seeing that his audience has increased by two he starts his story from the beginning and the pair of you listen with rapt attention–

Or, rather Javier does. You, however…

It starts out innocently enough, with you slumping against him and resting most of your weight against his shoulder. Charles contemplates draping an arm around you—it wouldn’t be odd of him as it’s a position that you’ve been in countless times before, but he doesn’t want to presume—but before he can think himself into a circle you’re snaking your arm around his waist. Your hold isn’t particularly tight, only really pressing in enough to keep you connected. After a few seconds you start to feather your fingers up and down his side in a move that he would’ve considered innocent if not for the wicked little smile on your face. There and gone in a flash, he finds himself looking at you more fully to be sure of what he saw; all he receives for his troubles, however, is a playful wink that leaves him batting down a burst of nerves.

It seems as if he’s unwittingly become a participant in whatever it is the pair of you have going on. He’s surprised, but he can’t say he’s opposed.

Steeling himself with a sigh, he finally allows his arm to drape across the breadth of your shoulders. The movement catches Javier’s eye from where he stands on Charles’ other side, as does the continued skittering of your hand. His expression as he takes this all in changes by degrees as he assesses you both separately; when looking at you there’s a knowing tint to his gaze that’s clouded with a banked lust, though when his eyes meet the taller man’s stare that knowingness sharpens into appraisal. Had the desire there dissipated Charles would have backed off immediately, but thankfully that isn’t the case. Javier gives you both a smirk that leaves Charles flushing in a way that gives him one more reason to love the dusk of his skin.

It’s apparent that Javier’s happy to let the two of you play, so Charles is content enough to let you do as you will. Your hands move higher and higher with each pass over the waffle-knit of his top until clever fingers are dancing up the back of his neck to gently tangle themselves in his nape. Nails scrape upwards into the loose wave of his hair in a move that nearly has him moaning out loud. He’s just able to bite down on the sound, but there’s nothing to be done for the way the rest of his body betrays him with a shiver. Having his hair played with has always been a weakness of his, but one that not many know of thanks to the boundaries that he’s set in place. The number of people who can say they’ve had the pleasure of obtaining this knowledge are few, and those who’ve gotten such a visceral reaction out of him because of it are fewer still.

Sounds seem to fade away as you continue to lull him with your ministrations, with not even the combined drunken yelling of Sean and Lenny’s conveyed anecdote being enough to pull him out of the stupor. He allows his mind to wander as you work; the images that flash through his head are ones that he usually reserves for hours far later than this one, when he’s alone with an ache between his legs that cannot be abated by anything but imaginings of the only two people who could reduce him to such a base state. His grip on you tightens unconsciously, forcing you more firmly against his chest and you’re quick you mold yourself against him.

Your pace is languid as you work him over with the repetitious scrape. It feels like he’s under the sweetness of your care for a small eternity, and he’s more than happy to stay lost for another eternity still, so when your fingers curl and tighten against his locks and tug there’s really no way for him to stop himself from crying out. Luckily the story has finally reached its end to a cacophony of laughter that’s just loud enough to drown out a sound that’s caught somewhere between a yelp of surprise and a moan. Thankfully everyone’s too drunk and-or preoccupied to notice the way his chest heaves and his eyes darken as he looks at you through heavy lids–

Well, everyone except for Javier. He’d honestly forgotten that the other man’s still here—that anyone’s here, really—but now his presence encompasses all of Charles’ attention.

“Alright, amor, you’ve had your fun,” he tells his partner. His tone speaks of mild amusement, though there is a sliver of something there—something dark and wanting, ravenously so—that leaves their breath hitching. To Charles, “It wasn’t very nice of them, starting something they know they can’t finish– Not tonight, at least. But don’t worry, ‘mano—next time, we got you.”

The words feel like they’re caught somewhere between a promise and a threat, but Charles finds that that only adds to their appeal. The pair of you say your goodbyes then, first to him and then to the group at large. A chorus of wolf-whistles and teases are given in response, with everyone having a pretty good idea of why you’re cutting out early, but if they suspect his role in things they’re kind enough not to mention it.

As Charles watches your retreating forms he runs a shaky hand through the length of his hair only to find that the motion doesn’t bring him the stability that it usually does. How can it, when he can still feel your phantom touch, the exquisite bite of your nails against the sensitive skin of his scalp…

These memories will continue haunt him, he’s sure—unable to be exorcised in full until he’s lying sweat-slicked and sated between two equally worn-out bodies.

“Is this what you wanted, mi amor?”

Javier’s thrusts can only be described as punishing, more so due to depth and force than speed. Your body jolts forwards with every snap of his hips, but the firm hold he has on the scarf that binds your arms keeps you from going too far—not that you want to be anywhere else but here, completely laid bare and at the mercy of the man at your back. The word ‘mercy’ used very loosely here as he is being absolutely ruthless and you’re loving every second of it.

Face down and ass up, he’s had you bent over the desk from nearly the moment you stepped into your bedroom, only stopping long enough to tie your arms behind your back. In all honesty you’re pretty sure this is the true reason he pushed so hard for its inclusion in the room—there’s definitely more appropriate spaces for it—but whatever. It’s not like you can complain when it gets such frequent use.

So yes, this exactly what you want, what you need…

“I asked you a question, baby, and I expect an answer,” he continues on in a low, demanding tone.

You try to reply, you swear you do, but whatever it is you manage to slur out between moans isn’t an adequate enough reply. Javier’s voice drops to something just above a true whisper as he leans more fully against you—close enough that you swear you can feel the beat of his heart against your back, close enough to feel the pant of his breath ghosting over your skin—with the sinuous roll of his hips slowing further.

“Forgot how to use your words already?” he tsks against the shell of your ear. “That’s okay, cariño. I know you wanna be good for me, so I’m gonna help you out…” Taking your confused sounding whimper for the question it is he chuckles before saying, “How? It’s easy—Imma fuck the answer out of you.” ((sweetie))

Before you can fully process his words he’s unwinding his hand from the cloth, pulling back, and pounding into you quick and hard. The feeling has you gasping out his name followed by a babbled yes-yes-YES that leaves him growling out his approval. He calls you his good baby then and the small bit of praise makes your brain fizz as your body reacts on instinct. Eager hips throw themselves back to meet his thrusts; though your positioning doesn’t really allow for much traction your efforts do earn you a few moans and curses of approval, at least.

“Mierda. Look at you. You like being fucked hard, huh? Like me taking you like this?” The words are little more than a rumble with how low his voice has dropped, and the change in timbre leaves you clenching up around him more. “Fuuck babe—that’s it, that’s– Fuck. Yeah, you love this shit. That why you were being such a little tease, yeah? Did you want me to fuck you ‘til you remember who you belong to?” ((shit))

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer this time, choosing instead to take your jaw in hand. His grip is just this side of bruising and well at odds with the gentle way his thumb strokes over your bottom lip. Your tongue snakes out mindlessly to flick at its calloused pad and you hum at the slightly salty taste of his skin. Javier hisses out a curse as you continue to lave over the digit, and you can practically feel his narrow-eyed stare from where it’s sure to be drilling into the back of your skull. Unwilling to relinquish even the least bit of control just yet, his palm slides downwards until it’s resting firmly against your neck. Long fingers easily encase the column, and while he doesn’t squeeze nearly as hard as he had been before there is a definite and steady pressure there. You know he’d sooner hurt himself before he would ever risk truly hurting you, but there’s still something undeniably alluring about feeling like you’re on the edge of something so dark and dangerous.

Your moan is slightly strangled as you lean more heavily into his hand, with your hole clenching especially hard as the oxygen vacates your lungs. In turn Javi grunts at the sensation even as his fingers squeeze just that little bit tighter, and in that moment you’re sure that a death of a different kind is close at hand. Spanish is falling from his lips much faster than your addled mind can ever hope to translate, but when he does finally switch back over to English he’s hardly saying anything you want to hear.

“What?” He gives a particularly hard thrust as you croak out the word, leaving you to damn near choke on it.

“You heard me, amor—don’t. You. Cum. After the shit you pulled tonight did you honestly think I was gonna let you cum so easily?”

Your replying whine is pitiful indeed, not that you actually expect to receive any sort of reprieve at this point. Still, that doesn’t stop you from looking over your shoulder and giving him your best pout. For his part your man mimics your expression, giving your neck a few soothing strokes before allowing his lips to pull off into a devious little smirk.

“Aww, look at you. There’s no need for all that, baby, I’m gonna give you what you want—not that you’ve actually earned it, not yet. You’ve been especially bratty lately; playing all these games, teasing me… I can’t just let that shit slide, so here’s how this is going to work: I’m gonna keep fuckin’ you good ‘n’ hard ‘n’ deep, and you’re gonna take it for as long as I say. When I decide that you’ve learned your lesson I’ll let you cum, and if you go over the edge before then there will be consequences.”

And you know he’s as good as his word.

Despite him saying all of this between pants, sharp curses, and a few breathy moans there’s no way in hell you actually stand a chance of outlasting him. Even if his stamina wasn’t god-tier and his will just as solid, pure pettiness would see him holding out if it meant keeping you on the edge. And as for those ‘consequences’, you cannot even begin to guess at what they may be, but a part of you really, really wants to find out. You’re positive you’ll enjoy it—maybe not as much as him, but you’ll still have your fun.

Before you can make up your mind about whether or not your defiance would be worth it, his hand is leaving your neck to hold your hip steady. You gasp slightly, already lamenting the loss of pressure, only to have the breath knocked out of you by his next thrust. The force of it sends you reeling, with the only thing keeping you from face-planting being the hold your man has on you. Instead your sweat-slicked body is shoved further up the desk in a move that would’ve been extremely uncomfortable if you weren’t already so gone.

Wanting a bit more agency, Javi grabs up the length of cloth that dangles between you; his movements do not falter as he shores up his grip with a few twisting motions before pushing into you again and again and again. He sets up a brutal pace that sees his hip bones digging into the plush of your ass and his balls slapping against you with every forward push. This is the only bit of attention that anything other than your hole has received since leaving the party and you damn near sob at the brief flashes of stimulation.

You’re not even sure what nonsense is pouring out of your mouth at this point, but if it’s anything like the disjointed garble that’s currently floating around in your skull then it’s one flaming wreck of a mess. You can hardly go by Javier’s reaction as you’re pretty sure that you could be singing lullabies and he’d still be into it. He just loves to hear you—it doesn’t particularly matter what sounds you’re making so long as he knows they’re a result of the pleasure he’s bring you. You’re much the same honestly, though listening to him turn the velvety syllables of his native tongue into growls and groans in the heat of his passion is its own type of torture. His voice is already an aphrodisiac in its own right, but when he’s fallen as deeply into his lust as he has into you it becomes something otherworldly.

Your man’s words slowly begin to shift from admonishments for your earlier behavior into praise for “–taking your cock like un buen pequeño amor,” and you can only hope that means you’ll get what you need sooner rather than later. ((a good little love))

Time stops making sense as he continues to take you. You’re both hyperaware of its passage and not, with seconds impossibly feeling like hours, but the minutes they bleed into hardly even registers. Your need for release becomes this all-encompassing thing that dictates your every move, breath, and thought. It creates a thrumming want that invades all of your senses until there’s nothing outside of it. Even Javi’s voice becomes little more than a cluster of sounds that you’re just barely able to perceive, though one phrase breaks through the haze every time he says it:

“Don’t you cum, cariño.”

His words are both boon and bane.

They’re the only bit of sense to be found in the symphony of needy sounds and hammering hearts and the repetitive meeting of flesh, and yet at the same time they are the very chains that hold you back from the one thing you need most. Your body is demanding, screaming, begging for this to end one way or another, and soon. You’re sure that each new thrust will bring about your end, and yet you hold yourself back even as your legs shake from exertion and your arms ache from the strain. Those four words will not allow you to do any less.

When the tension in your arms lessens you honestly think the limbs have finally gone numb, but then you’re being pulled up against Javier’s hard chest and you realize he actually let go of the scarf. The jarring pace he’d been keeping up slows to a gentle roll that makes you grind into him with a desperate whimper before he stills his hips altogether. His lack of movement has you rutting against him like some crazed beast, but the only thing this nets you is a throaty chuckle that makes you throb all the more.

“Tan ansioso,” he breathes against your ear as well-toned arms pin you flush against an equally muscled chest. This leaves you unable to do anything more than whine, much to your annoyance and his continued amusement. “You really want to cum, don’t you?” ((so eager))

“Fuck! Javi, you know I do–”

“Then say the word, mi corazón.” ((sweetheart))

“Please.”

“‘Please’, what?”

“Please let me cum.”

The moan he lets out at your words comes from somewhere deep in his gut making you shiver with your want. The only thing better than hearing him make such deliciously wicked sounds is knowing that you’re their cause. He’s always so quick to tell you that he’s the only one that can make you feel the way that you do—and it’s true, he definitely gotten you addicted to his particular brand of carnality, but it’s fine since you know it goes both ways.

Javier presses a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your nape before nipping the skin there. “So good,” he purrs as his left hand snakes up to rub at your steadily leaking core. “Un bebé tan bueno para mí.” ((such a good baby for me))

His hand passes through the mess, smearing your arousal further until he’s zeroing in on your most sensitive area; all the while your hips wiggle against him in a desperate bid to rut into his palm properly. Unfortunately the movement does little for either of you aside from frustrating you further.

“There you go, teasing me again.”

“‘M not trying to,” you tell him, “just wanna feel good—wanna make us both feel good…”

Your trailing sigh turns into a moan when he thrust against you again. The movement is spastic, an involuntary response to the way that your walls flutter around him. He swears lowly before releasing you completely and pulling out; the sensation of his thick cock leaving you is good for all of two seconds before you realize that he’s not pushing back into you. For one panicked moment you think that he’s going to leave you tied up and aching, but before you can even form the first syllable of your plea he’s freeing your arms and turning you to face him. It’s the first time you’ve gotten a clear look at him since being bent over the desk and you’re pleased to find that he looks just as much of a mess as you do. Hair mussed, lips parted ever so enticingly, cheeks flushed, and dewy skin glistening so prettily under the warm-hued lights—he’s sex personified in this moment and the sight somehow makes you burn for him all the more.

Javier is drinking you in just as readily, being, as always, especially taken with your mouth. Heavily lidded eyes track your lips movements as you wet them, and when you bite into the plush skin he lets out a shuddering breath. A muttered “Fuck” is all the warning you get before his lips are crashing into yours while hands eagerly grip at your hips to pull you flush to him. The heat of his cock is like a firebrand between you, and the press of it against your skin has you instinctively writhing against it.

Your movements leave him shivering as he exhales harshly—the first sign that his self-control is starting to slip.

“Get on the bed, mi amor—wanna look in your eyes while I fuck you, wanna see you fall apart…” He breathes the words against your lips before taking the bottom one between his teeth just as you had a moment ago. The sting of his bite is soothed away by a swipe of his tongue before he’s kissing you again.

Somehow he has enough presence of mind to get you both moving and soon you feel something solid, yet yielding hitting the back of your legs. You’re just wobbly enough for the disturbance to take you off of your feet and Javier readily follows you down. So close to the one thing you both want, need, the kisses grow sloppier and more hurried. It takes a few moments for you both to get into a more settled position, but as soon as you do he’s lubing up again before pushing into you completely with one long stroke.

Your breath catches at the feeling of being full once again while he lets out a sound that’s half contented sigh, half growl, with the latter completely overtaking the former when you roll your hips up to meet his. The pace he sets is far less grueling than it had been when he was taking you from behind, but it’s no less maddening for the change. Long, deep strokes end with a languid snap that has him hitting something inside of you that leaves you damn near sobbing every time. It doesn’t take long for you to get back to that same level of torturous pleasure that you’d been drowning in minutes before and soon you’re clawing at his back and calling out his name like it’s the only word left in your lexicon.

All the while your eyes are locked with one another’s, mostly at his insistence. When he said that he wanted to see you fall apart he meant it; a firm hand against the side of your face keeps you from turning away while tutting words part your lids whenever they flutter shut for longer than a few seconds.

“You’re doing so well, mi amor, so good,” he tells you. His words are slightly slurred and you know he’s just as drunk on you as you are on him. The thought leaves your walls clenching and he hisses at the added tightness. His pace quickens as he drops his head down into the space between your shoulder and your neck. Kisses, nips, and sucks carve a path upwards until the warmth of his breath is ghosting over your ear. “Touch yourself for me.”

It’s an order that you’re all too happy to follow.

Your fingers quickly move down to work against your sloppy sex and you can only hope that the whole ‘no cumming until I say so’ thing is no longer in effect because if not you are in so much trouble. With everything going on you’re only gonna be able to last about a literal minute and that’s being hella generous and rounding way up, honestly. Javier knows this, knows you and your body damn near better than you do some days. He sees it in the way your eyes glint with desperation, can feel it in the way your whole body tenses just so, can hear it in the pant of breaths that come quicker, shallow. Part of you worries that he’ll drag things out just to punish you further—or worse yet, leave you wound up and wanting—but a bigger part of you knows he’s not that cruel. Javier always makes sure to give you what you need and right now you need to cum, badly, and so does he if the fevered look in his eyes is anything to go by.

“Yes, babe, yes. Just like that, fuck me back—Joder! Tan buena…” His muttered praises become more and more scattered as his hips begin to meet yours faster and faster until— ((fuck! so good))

“Do it for me, mi amor. Cum.”

Your body doesn’t hesitate to follow the simple command, and the orgasm that rocks your frame is almost blinding in its intensity. A wordless cry rips itself from your throat as bliss—white-hot and all-consuming—skitters across your every nerve setting them alight. All the while you hold on to the man that still hovers above you as if he’s the only thing tethering you to this plane, and for all you know he is. After all, you’re pretty sure that one cannot experience something so world-shattering as this and not ascend to some higher form of consciousness, if only for a moment.

For his part, Javier shudders and bucks his way through his own release just as you’re coming to the end of yours. Your nails follow the length of his spine as you watch him fall apart—eyes pinched shut, chest heaving, lips parted under hard pants—he rarely looks more beautiful than when he’s cumming and the sight is one that you’re positive you’ll never get tired of seeing.

Kisses are traded between shaky breaths as you both work your way through the last of the aftershocks. They’re sweet, lingering things that are seemingly at odds with everything that preceded them—only not really as he’s always like this once your games have come to their end. All loved up, he likes to keep you close so that he can dote on you as much as you’ll allow him to. Feeling safe, warm, and sated, gentle strokes of his hands against your cooling flesh and murmured declarations of love are the lullaby that sees you drifting off into slumber.

© thepuckishrogue/TheViperQueen, 2019-2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[blackat-t7t]

Hey man, I was doing some research for transmasc folks dealing with polycythemia and came across your post (this one tumblr.com/blackat-t7t/738252703648661505/cw-medical-talk-self-harm-mention-as-a-hyperbole?source=share) and I was wondering if you ever found a solution or experienced an improvement with this? I know at least one person has tried anti-allergy medicine with some effect, but polycythemia is one of my main concerns going on t (which is potentially on the horizon).

I really hope you are feeling better btw!

[link to original post, for reference]

Hey there. I'm not sure how helpful it will be, but I'll tell you my experience. I was able to find a solution in the past, but in the last year it stopped working.

I started T in 2016, and started having those symptoms about a year later. I also read that antihistamines helped, so I took benadryl as often as the label allowed. It helped but didn't eliminate the symptoms, and it wasn't really healthy to continue long-term. I also read that while polycythemia was most common in people taking injectable testosterone, it could also happen to cis men not on HRT, mainly when under massive amounts of stess. I ended up starting antidepressant/anti-anxiety medication and going off T for about a month. When I started my injections again, I had no more problems.

Until part way through 2023.

I was still taking the antidepressants, but under some major stress. At the time, I was putting 100% of my income towards 100% of rent for a 3 bedroom apartment, and dipping into my savings for everything else, with no support from the people I lived with. However, even after I moved into a much better situation, the symptoms continued.

I did have a blood test run looking for signs of autoimmune disorder, because I thought that if antihistamines helped it might be related. The initial test was out of range, but not any of the follow-up tests the lab automatically ran looking for specifics. I had ordered the test myself and didn't have a general doctor to suggest further tests or next moves, so that didn't really go anywhere.

For the last few month I've been taking my T shot only once every several weeks, instead of every week like I'm supposed to. The symptoms clear up after a few weeks, but come back when I do my next shot.

The last 2-ish months I've been changing my medication, cycling off the antidepressant and onto a mood stabalizer. I also started ADHD stimulants less than 2 weeks ago. I'm hoping all that will help lower my stress levels enough that I can go back to my regular dose of T, but I don't know yet.

Ultimately, the symptoms have such a negative effect on my quality of life, I've decided that if I can't find a way to permanently get rid of them, I'd rather go off testosterone entirely. In June I'll be exactly 8 years on T, and most of the changes I wanted (bottom growth, voice change, facial hair) won't be undone if I stop taking it (hell, it might even improve the bald spot!) My biggest concern is starting to menstruate again, but even that would be less distressing than the itching.

I'm sorry I don't have any more answers for you. For what it's worth, I've never heard anyone else talk about this, at least not with symptoms as bad as mine, so it must be a very rare side effect. I hope you're able to get whatever medical care you need to have the life you want.

[doubleddenden]

Okay so some more details about Synchronizing dropped from Famitsu and DenFamiNicoGamer- they also covered more about quests and legendaries and stuff, but I'm mainly focusing on synchronizing. Btw, this is not a leak, this is legitimately published info, I just wanna talk about it.

My source is DenFamiNicoGamer (link courtesy of Serebii), and it's all in Japanese. But translations from various sources get most of the point across.

First off, it would seem that we can control ANY pokemon in the game. Not just Pikachu, not just Kanto golden boys, not just select Pokémon ANY- if I'm understanding correctly anyway. This is actually pretty huge- apparently we can also run off a ledge as certain pokemon like Flygon and remain gliding or flying as well. In this mode, you cannot talk to people (of course, you're a pokemon), but it seems like you can actually FIGHT wild Pokémon like this. Unclear how that will work, but image translation from my phone claims the Y button says "attack."

Facts aside, I have a couple of personal thoughts about this:

First off, I think as exciting as this is, expectations shouldn't be TOO high. They said themselves this is a prototype, and I didn't see anything in the way of being able to take flight on your own, so most likely this is to confined areas with limited button inputs.

Second, we'll have to see just how advanced this is, but I'm thinking this is sort of an evolution of the in game Let's Go mechanic and nothing too complicated, just be a simple button to launch a generic attack. Could be useful for mobs in a future installment.

Third, I said it before in another post, but this seems like a lot of effort put into a mechanic they'll just toss after dlc. Game Freak has a habit of testing features they're considering making a bigger mainstay in a game following at some point and builds off of things- think like the Wild Area to the Isle of Armor and Crown Tundra to the areas of Legends Arceus, and finally to open world. Think also to the Following mechanic brought back to IoA to SV, the bike system from SwSh to the Ko/Miraidon riding system, Legends Arceus's battle Camera to SV, etc.

Now what does this mean? Could be a number of things, could also be nothing. Could be a mechanic in a future Legends game or gen 10 where we fight AS the pokemon in real time battles instead of turn based for limited battles (personally I don't see them dumping turn based because competitive is too big to just completely toss in a main game), could be testing grounds to replace the current ride mechanics for something with certain pokemon in our party (the flying off a ledge as a flying pokemon is one thing, we will see how that works with swimming pokemon if applicable), who knows. Hell, I could be shooting shit and it's just nothing, but that seems unlikely to me.

Anyway I'm excited. This is a lot to play with for pt 2 of the dlc.

[loudwolftraveler]

Hello! Since i post something that is related to the 'sick beauty' official on hiatus end. I wanna talk to you about the novels i publish on my pf in my wattpad.

First, is that i don't own any of them nor view it as my original work, no. I publish novels that are already translated and published in for entertainment purposes.

Second, 'Sick Beauty' will be coming to end maybe this coming 30th and the new published novels will be coming soon on 1st of January.

Third, the new novel stories that will be published is called "The demon king always thinks I'm secretly in love with him' & 'Master, may i suck it up?' it's both BL and Romance that has a yandere tag on it. Yeah, you hear me, it has a tag of yandere.

Fourth, actually if any of you guys ever visit my pf on wattpad, you will be notified quickly there (expecially if you follow) the new upcoming novel stories, actually is 'The demon king always thinks I'm secretly in love with him' AND 'Like Pearl and jade' but then i forgot than the 'Like pearl and jade' only has a romance tag (not yandere) then i was like: 'you know maybe we should change this story since i planed to publish a two novels that has Yandere tag on it before moving on to action genre.' then i started to search on novel updates which is the source i found these stories btw, no own of mine that is also no original work of mine, remember that. And i found old work of mine in my draft, which is not continuous. The old work of my draft is called, 'I am Fated Villain' and i have one more but i don't remember it anymore.. (I'm not that good at remembering things) The 'l am the Fated Villain' is also a continuous novel, since i make a draft out of it, i thought that maybe i should post this instead of 'Like pear and jade' but yet since its continuous, it has about 100+ of chapters. And i was like: ehh, i decided it this is the one! And i make a post there in my wattpad pf saying that the 'Like pearl and jade' will be replaced as 'l am the Fated Villain' and couple of minutes later, i realize that i can't make this one cuz first its continuous, second it has many websites of translation, third i gave up the idea of publishing it and search for another one, this time its completed, then i found the last and the final decision, the 'Master, may i suck it up?' is the final replacement of 'like pearl and jade' which is still romance but it has yandere tag this time. But u can still search for it in the wattpad or the Google. It will give u whole of it.

Fifth, is the rechanged scheduled, i post here too something related that i will be publishing this coming 25th right? Actually the 'sick beauty' has many chapters, i tell here, the story has also about 100+ (jk all the chapters of sick beauty is 137 and one is extra) so i rechanged the schedule which is btw, tomorrow i be publishing about 5 chapters (which is original schedule) and on 25th is another 5 chapters. Making it to 10th chapters each, cuz we go nowhere near end of the story. That's why also i put it on hiatus cuz I'm tired as f*ck on those months i don't think i be continue to publish the new stories (continuous chapters) next year cuz we having full f2f and i don't like it one bit.

If any of you wondering again what's the genres i be following up after two new upcoming novel stories, these are the following:

Action -> Romance -> Yaoi(BL) & Yuri(GL) -> Tragic/tragedy -> Horror.

Don't worry i be balance them all, if i can :D.

Repost Links again!

Wattpad pf: https://www.wattpad.com/user/FayeRafaelleTomol

Check anytime, my lovelies!

[ukelele-boy]

Heyo! I am honestly in awe of your art style it’s so good!! Do you have any advice on compsition/how to make your pieces more dynamic?

Hey Sunsketcher (love this name btw)! I love your art too, you inspired me so much. Honored to get an ask from you!

I will explain my own drawing process when it comes to composition and dynamicness, hopefully the wording is ok and it helps you.

Dynamicness:

1. Think of movement as a dance. A dance telling a story.

(What is the character experiencing? What is the mood of the piece? What kind of emotions are they feeling and what kind of poses convey those emotions?)

(Usually, dances have grace, strength and balance, unless you are purposely creating an effect of disharmony and disjointedness)

2. Line of motion. This is something that goes along with my above point. In animation, the characters are always doing something, and there is a specific line that goes through them, showing it. In the python art, you can see the two main lines (apollo and python's, curving towards each other, with a sub-line of Apollo punching contrasting that curve. The act of punching is disharmony so that's why it is crossed over the curves.

3. Considering anatomy at the beginning of drawing makes drawings stilted unless you truly feel like you can manipulate the anatomy like it's your own. Instead, try to imagine the movement and the "beat" like you experience in animations. Imagine your art as a still frame shot of an animation. Try to use your strokes to capture the essence of the movement and then later fill in the anatomy. In the messy sketch below, I disregarded anatomy and just was trying out as many different lines as possible to see which one expressed the beat and dance I had in my mind.

Another example are these horse sketches I did. The anatomy is completely wonky in some, but the essence of the horse can be represented in a few lines. This works for humans too.

In this art, I wanted to show how Apollo's wings were spreading on the ground, in a sort of grieving elegance. And the dead son in his arms is limp and has little balance or smooth lines, unlike Apollo. I did this to create a sense of disharmony between the always perfect Apollo and the mortality of the son. It helps accent them both. And then the scorch marks draw the eye to the duo.

4. Composition wise: think of the foreground, middle ground, background when creating your artwork. Use the foreground to immerse the viewer into the piece and direct their eye to the subjects. I used the rocks and part of python's body (blurry part on top left) to draw the viewer into the scene. This is similar to anime and movies, so if there are any shots or scenes that you felt were particularly well done, try to look for how they do the foreground, middleground and background and put that into your art.

5. Use color as an additional layer of contrast. Bright colors draw the eye and are able to highlight important subjects (characters, objects etc.)

6. If you start to draw and have no idea how to pose the character, I recommend looking at some dynamic fight scenes in manga, anime and art. I also love these two posts in particular as I find them really good sources of inspiration: 

Battle scene composition:

https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/838091811920322288/

Sword fighting composition: 

https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/95842298307452250/

(The author,  EtheringtonBrothers, is on tumblr but because they have like 1828248 art tip posts I cannot link it for you as I can’t even find it XD)

Anyways, thank you for reading, feel free to ask more questions if you need clarification. 

Extra: Another art where I did a quick analysis to show you my thoughts

[houseofglass]

Hmmm, this spn prequel seems to have ruffled a lot of different feathers. My dash has provided me with Jared hate, Jensen hate, confused tinhats, and even a splash of Cockles/Destiel opinions.

Here’s my take. Spoiler alert: unpopular opinions ahead. I’m not linking anything because I’m in the middle of an unprecedented heatwave and I don’t feel like finding all the sources. Do your own research. Or not. Whatever. I just want to get this all out as coherently as possible. Here we go:

From the beginning, Jensen has been a professional. He didn’t let the drama on Dark Angel get to him and he’s said that he actively avoided having that same drama on the set of spn. He’s known as One-Take-Ackles because he brings his A-game every time.

Jared liked to mess around on set. Take after take after take after take. There was reddit post about how the crew would be working 13 (?) hours to get everything set up and still had six hours of teardown to do and then bam! actors messing about and making the day longer. Like, just say your lines dude. Anyway. Jared liked wresting, getting others to break, and pranking. I think he even pranked Misha by ruining his car more than once. Not cool, IMO.

J2 had a massive fight on set in season two. I recall it being about Jared egging Jensen on to fight but Jensen just stared him down until Jared left the set. They made up and agreed to never do that again as it promotes a bad workplace. Keep your shit contained, kind of thing.

But Jared didn’t, not really. One incident in particular is the wrestling with Osric Chau. Osric is a trained fighter and Jared was apparently going to slam him into the concrete. I repeat, into concrete. Osric dislocated Jared’s shoulder as a result. Jared still didn’t back off and Osric dislocated it again, this time Jared needed surgery and rehab. The wrestling finally stopped.

In all of this, J2 became good friends. I, personally, believe they started messing around sexually right after they auditioned for the parts and then got serious early on. They lived together, and Jared had his first breakdown immediately before announcing his engagement to Gen.

J2 are a good match. Jensen grounds Jared and Jared helps Jensen to be more outgoing while ‘on’ outside the set. Jensen seemed reserved and shy before Jared and was more confident and comfortable with Jared by his side. Jared can spin almost out of control and Jensen helps keep his feet on the ground. They also have an energy that’s been described as lightning in a bottle.

Fast forward a whole bunch of years. They’re still on the same show but have other interests. Each of them ensures that the other has the spotlight in turn. When one has a project, the other is quiet on social media so the focus won’t be taken away. They tell each other everything, as evidenced early on when PR and managers tried to play one off the other. They simply didn’t allow that to happen. Nope. Instead, they stepped back so one could shine. Jared opens a bar and Jensen is supportive. Jensen opens a brewery and Jared is supportive.

During all of this, they still perform at cons for fans. For a while, near the end of spn, I noticed Jensen seemed to be drunk/drinking often. He had a flask while getting a tattoo, he was spotted with fans while drunk and kissed one, the Bad Idea Instagram post. This isn’t unusual. He’s an adult. He can drink. I just thought it odd that I was noticing it more and asked myself, was he always a frequent drinker and he just stopped hiding it or is it a result of the rise of cell phones and constant casual photos?

But then Jared was arrested. He was drunk. Not tipsy or having a good time. Drunk. He assaulted an employee. A lot of people said he was just a big puppy and he didn’t mean anything by it, but that didn’t sit well with me. By this point I’d heard too many stories about Jared being a bit of an asshole. Also, I don’t think Jared has depression. I think he has bipolar disorder. He’s had too many incidences of mania for me to believe it’s just depression. He feels emotions deeply, that’s obvious to me, but he also has emotional swings that remind me of my own bipolar disorder. Am I self-inserting? Maybe. But I know the signs and I see them in Jared. BTW, depression meds can bring on mania if you have bd. You need a different cocktail for bd, and you shouldn’t drink while on them.

By the time J2 announced the end of spn, Walker was already in the works. I knew something was up when I saw Jensen advertising himself at every opportunity. The whole King Bacchus thing and him showing up at after parties/events that are designed for networking kinda cemented this for me. I figured he was parading around looking for work and wondered why Jared wasn’t doing the same. Then Walker was announced.

Now, I admit, my timeline there might be a bit off. Maybe Walker was announced before Jensen was King, but my brain is melting and I can’t remember. Either way, I did note that Jared had plans for post-spn when Jensen didn’t.

The wives started getting involved. Gen is on Walker and Danneel is part of Chaos Productions. Me, being the tinhat that I am, thought this was to ensure the wives have an income and are tied to their husbands. From a non-tinhat pov, I can see their involvement as a natural, nepotism thing that happens.

Jared is doing well on Walker, or so I’ve heard. I haven’t watched the show. Jensen got a role on The Boys and is filming now. Cool. Cool cool cool. Both have acting gigs.

Then Jensen announced, on social media, right before the Walker finale, that there’ll be a spn prequel that’ll be narrated by Dean.

Right. Before. Walker. Let that sink in. All these years, J2 have always stepped aside for one another to ensure they have the spotlight in turn. But now Jensen is hogging it? Jensen is taking the focus off Walker and putting it on himself? Not cool man, not cool.

Also, there was no mention of Sam in the prequel. No mention of the other half of spn. Jared has said, publicly, that he’d drop anything to work on spn stuff, so he’s available. So why wasn’t he ‘in the know’ about this? How could Jensen have slipped this past him?

Jared was seen in Colorado during Jensen’s birthday, just before Jensen went to Toronto. So they’ve seen each other. Even if, in the minuscule possibility, that Jared didn’t see Jensen that weekend, they’ve admitted to talking to each other a lot. So why didn’t Jensen, at any point, tell Jared about this prequel?

Then Robbie Thompson tweeted. Jared was hurt even more. Apparently, I heard through this blue hellsite, that Jared wanted RT to write for Walker, but RT refused. Why? Who knows.

Let’s go back in time, shall we?

Jared messed around on set. Jensen didn’t. I can believe that some crew members/writers/producers/directors would have hated working with Jared. Yes, I said that. Not everyone likes a goofball or prankster. Some people think those people are bullies in disguise.

Maybe, just maybe, the lines were drawn when spn ended. Some people supported Jared, others Jensen.

Before anyone yells at me too loudly, answer me this: how did Jensen - and everyone involved in the prequel including Kripke - keep this from Jared? Didn’t anyone at any point ask how Jared felt about it? Or if Jared was available? Or if Jared would have input? “He’s too busy on Walker” doesn’t cut it as an answer to me. Spn was about two brothers, always two brothers, and now a prequel will only feature one brother?

So I came to the conclusion that the industry deliberately took sides in this whole thing. Nobody told Jared because they didn’t want to work with him again. He has his own show, he’s busy, - these are easy ways of handwaving him out of the equation.

Bottom line, finally, is that Jensen stepped in some shit when he didn’t tell his co-star, his partner, his friend, about a prequel to the show they worked on for fifteen years.

Will I ever know all the details of why Jensen would do this? Nope. I’m not in the industry.

I still believe J2 were/are in a relationship and their wives are beards. I believe they have a wonderful friendship and were as close as two people can be. I don’t want to think that relationship is over. I don’t want to believe they’ve gone separate ways. But man oh man, Jensen fucked up big time here.

I can’t wait for a tell-all book thirty years from now.

[thefirstknife]

Born of Wrath - Ruins of Wrath

I want to elaborate on this post because I think it's important how the whole boss area is set up.

First of all, the whole Shattered Realm this week feels different. It's just a vibe and some aspects of the whole area. But the boss room is definitely the most interesting.

It's in a Hive warship and the centerpiece of the room is something like an elevated podium from which you have a good view towards the big Taken ball in a strange device hovering in the air. This was shown during the reveal trailer as well.

The rest (with pictures even!) under the read more:

This is the same device located in the Shrine of Oryx:

It almost appears like the one in the Shattered Realm is positioned to look into the Shrine of Oryx from above. This structure, btw, is a communication device that the Hive on the Moon used to talk to Oryx. Now, obviously, no longer used to talk to Oryx and instead, they most likely use it to talk to Xivu Arath. This would also make sense as the Shattered Realm is Xivu's domain. That room is a place from which the Hive in the ascendant plane can communicate with the Hive in the Hellmouth, vice-versa and beyond. Presumably.

And of course, there's the elephant in the room.

A strange dark crystal bound with chains overlooking the Shrine communication device structure. I'm not the only one to be unnerved by this, nor am I the only one to have the thought that this is Osiris' prison. A place where real Osiris is suspended in some sort of hellish Hive version of cryo. The chains are what really sell it to me. If this were bigger, I'd probably say it some sort of a Hive creature being held here for some future boss fight, but the size just doesn't fit.

Furthermore, I've said a few times now, but I am beginning to suspect that Xivu Arath and Savathun are not really the enemies they're trying to tell us they are. It's important to know that the Hive have a very strange and utterly alien social structure. To them, murder and torture are expressions of love. They believe that this is what gives them strength so if you kill someone a lot, it means you love them a lot because you're helping them grow stronger.

Of course, Savathun is legitimately an exile to the Hive. She has practiced heresies. Goes without saying. The problem is that we kinda took her word for a fact that she is being hunted by her sister while not really thinking about how we have no confirmation of this from the other side. We don't know what Xivu thinks. Is she tolerating her sister's heresies for a grander plan? It wouldn't be the first time that Savathun is scheming in order to strengthen the Hive. Xivu knows her sister. I am finding it harder and harder to accept that Xivu would simply hunt her down on behalf of the Black Fleet without thinking it through.

After all, their last known interaction was Savathun preparing Torobatl for Xivu's invasion. They were on good terms. Savathun helped Xivu to obliterate the Cabal. And what was the whole plan with Osiris if not Savathun preparing OUR system for Xivu's invasion? These two are mirrors of each other, but with slightly different execution due to the fact that humanity has something the Cabal do not: Light. So obviously, infiltrating the Guardians required a more careful and insidious plan.

I believe this plan started a long time ago, but was finally fully put in motion, you guessed it, in Immolant. In Immolant, Osiris is exposed to the whispers of Xivu Arath, is drawn out to fight her and is eventually stripped off his Light BUT he is left alive.

There are two points I have to mention that do not align with what we know from Immolant (and Immolant is the most reliable source out of them all):

1. Savathun's speech from week 1 - specifically, the cutscene. Quote: “I found a form more pleasing to your eyes. Osiris was lost. Lightless. I saved him from Xivu Arath and assumed his shape.” This is a lie. Savathun did not save him from Xivu: Sagira did. Sagira's sacrifice is what pushed Xivu's influence away: "Blinding Light erupts from Sagira's core as she splits apart. A wave of Light surges and tears across the chasm. Her sacrifice cleanses every trace of Xivu Arath's presence. The sigil: erased. The cryptolith that supported her projection: destroyed." 2. Page 3 of the new lore book Ripples (still not on Ishtar as of writing this so I'm linking to my post with the relevant bit) - For easier reading:

"Savathun was weak to allow their deaths. To cede ground to the Celebrant; to Guardians." - This is not what happened. Xivu Arath lured Osiris to the Moon, Xivu Arath spoke to Osiris, goaded him into killing everyone and LAUGHED while he did so, because Osiris' rampage gave her tithe. Not only that, but Immolant describes the Celebrant carving a ritual to drain Osiris' Light away and let him die. The Celebrant then leaves. So it wasn't Savathun who ceded any ground.

"The Celebrant steps forward. A massive cleaver dangles from its hand, weightless. The beast carves a rune into the stone on either side of Osiris, its eyes locked with his. It nods to him, and then turns to the sigil.

"All tithes to Xivu Arath. War Dominant. Endless." Its tone is soft rasp and soot."

And:

"The Celebrant drives its sword into the cliffside stone above Osiris's head. The cryptolith erupts in neon flare.

"Die well, Osiris." The Celebrant bows and withdraws from sight into Luna's depths.

Wisps of Light hemorrhage through his skin, trimmed in blood and drawn around the blade embedded above him as if it were a nostepinne spike."

This is very odd. There's a lot of inconsistency and lying going on. Hell, Xivu didn't even take Osiris' Light at all. The attempt was made but Sagira made sure the ritual isn't finished by sacrificing herself. Kelgorath was lied to, both by Savathun AND Xivu Arath to whom he pledged himself (and died for in the first mission during Season of the Lost: Kelgorath was the Wrathborn we fight just before we enter the portal to the Mara & Osiris cutscene).

This, to me, implies that they're in on this together. It's important to note that when it came to the Cabal, everyone thought that Umun'Arath was being influenced by Xivu, but it was actually Savathun doing it on Xivu's behalf. It is possible that all the voices Osiris was hearing were actually also coming from Savathun on Xivu's behalf. But if that was the case, then Kelgorath wouldn't have felt the need to renounce Savathun because she was the one who helped Xivu, instead of "ceding ground" as he claims. This inconsistency makes me believe that Savathun's and Xivu's courts don't really know the full scope and details of their mutual plan. The Hive sisters are literally lying to their own people for the benefit of the plan.

We only have Savathun speaking to us, but never Xivu Arath. What are her thoughts on all of this? What are her thoughts on Savathun? Is she really hunting Savathun at all? Obviously, Xivu would know that Savathun will most likely betray her, but if Savathun lays down the ground work for Xivu's invasion (like on Torobatl), why would she care? She knows her scheming sister well enough. As long as there's war, Xivu will be fed her tithe, making herself stronger and stronger. Savathun's schemes are benefitting her.

Which leads me back to the chained crystal in Shattered Realm.

Savathun's bargaining chip, Osiris. Where is he? Who is looking after this most valuable prisoner while she's trapped in her own crystal? Who would she trust to make sure he stays bound until the time is right? Who has the power to keep him bound while she's playing the game on the other side?

Well, it's Xivu Arath of course. So it would not surprise me for this crystal to really be him, bound and chained in Xivu's domain, under her watchful eye and kept in place by her power.

And, of course, where did we find "Osiris" on the Moon when we went to rescue him? In the Shrine of Oryx. The same place that the chained crystal is located in, on the other side, looking down to the Shrine from the ascendant plane.

I didn't mention it until now, but the post's title is a reference to both Immolant and Shattered Realm. "Born of Wrath" is the name of the first chapter of Immolant pt. 2, where Osiris first encounters the cryptolith, visions and voices of Xivu and gives her tithe. It would be fitting if Osiris' wrath that was "born" in that moment led to his "ruin" and eventual imprisonment in the "Ruins of Wrath."

I am looking WAY too hard into this, but it really isn't a Destiny lore analysis unless I'm a little unhinged. :)

[sabugabr]

Why the Clone problem in Star Wars animated media is also a Mandalorian problem, and why we have to talk about it (PART 2)

Hi! I finally finished wrapping this up, so here’s part 2 of what has already become a mini article (you can find Part 1 here, if you like!)

And for this part, it won’t be as much as a critic as part 1 was, but instead I’d like to focus more on what I consider to be a wasted potential regarding the representation of the Clones in the Star Wars animated media, from the first season of The Clone Wars till now, and why I believe it to be an extension of the Mandalorian problem I discussed in part 1 —  the good old colonialism.

Sources used, as always, will be linked at the end of this post!

PART 2: THE CLONES

Cody will never know peace

So I’d like to state that I won’t focus as much on the blatantly whitewashing aspect, for I believe it to be very clear by now. If you aren’t familiar with it, I highly recommend you search around tumblr and the internet, there are a lot of interesting articles and posts about it that explain things very didactically and in detail. The only thing you need to know to get this started is that even at the first seasons of Clone Wars (when the troopers still had this somewhat darker skin complexion and all) they were still a whitewashed version of Temuera Morrison (Jango’s actor). And from then, as we all know, they only got whiter and whiter till we get where we are now, in rage.

Look at this very ambiguously non-white but still westernized men fiercely guarding their pin-up space poster

Now look at this still westernized but slightly (sarcasm) whiter men who for some reason now have different tanning levels among them (See how Rex now has a lighter skin tone? WHEN THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN KKKKKKK) Anyway you got the idea. So without further ado...

2.1 THE FANTASY METAPHOR

As I mentioned before in Part 1, one thing that has to be very clear if you want to follow my train of thought is that it’s impossible to consume something without attributing cultural meanings to it, or without making cultural associations. This things will naturally happen and it often can improve our connection to certain narratives, especially fantastic ones. Even if a story takes place in a fantastic/sci fi universe, with all fictional species and people and worlds and cultures, they never come from nowhere, and almost always they have some or a lot of basing in real people and cultures. And when done properly, this can help making these stories resonate in a very beautifull, meaningfull way. I actually believe this intrisic cultural associations are the things that make these stories work at all. As the brilliant american speculative/science fiction author Ursula K. Le Guin says in the introduction (added in 1976) of her novel The Left Hand of Darkness, and that I was not able to chopp much because it’s absolutely genious and i’ll be leaving the link to the full text right here,

“The purpose of a thought-experiment, as the term was used by Schrodinger and other physicists, is not to predict the future — indeed Schrodinger's most famous thought-experiment goes to show that the ‘future,’ on the quantum level, cannot be predicted — but to describe reality, the present world.

Science fiction is not predictive; it is descriptive.”

[...] “Fiction writers, at least in their braver moments, do desire the truth: to know it, speak it, serve it. But they go about it in a peculiar and devious way, which consists in inventing persons, places, and events which never did and never will exist or occur, and telling about these fictions in detail and at length and with a great deal of emotion, and then when they are done writing down this pack of lies, they say, There! That's the truth!

They may use all kinds of facts to support their tissue of lies. They may describe the Marshalsea Prison, which was a real place, or the battle of Borodino, which really was fought, or the process of cloning, which really takes place in laboratories, or the deterioration of a personality, which is described in real textbooks of psychology; and so on. This weight of verifiable place-event-phenomenon-behavior makes the reader forget that he is reading a pure invention, a history that never took place anywhere but in that unlocalisable region, the author's mind. In fact, while we read a novel, we are insane —bonkers. We believe in the existence of people who aren't there, we hear their voices, we watch the battle of Borodino with  them, we may even become Napoleon. Sanity returns (in most cases) when the book is closed.”

[...] “ In reading a novel, any novel, we have to know perfectly well that the whole thing is nonsense, and then, while reading, believe every word of it. Finally, when we're done with it, we may find — if it's a good novel — that we're a bit different from what we were before we read it, that we have been changed a little, as if by having met a new face, crossed a street we never crossed before. But it's very hard to say just what we learned, how we were changed.

The artist deals with what cannot be said in words.

The artist whose medium is fiction does this within words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words. Words can be used thus paradoxically because they have, along with a semiotic usage, a symbolic or metaphoric usage. [...]  All fiction is metaphor. Science fiction is metaphor. What sets it apart from older forms of fiction seems to be its use of new metaphors, drawn from certain great dominants of our contemporary life — science, all the sciences, and technology, and the relativistic and the historical outlook, among them. Space travel is one of these metaphors; so is an alternative society, an alternative biology; the future is another. The future, in fiction, is a metaphor.

A metaphor for what?” [1]

A metaphor for what indeed. I won’t be going into what Star Wars as a whole is a metaphor for, because I am certain that it varies from person to person, and everyone can and has the total right to take whatever they want from this story, and understand it as they see fit. That’s why it’s called the modern myth. And therefore, all I’ll be saying here is playinly my take not only on what I understand the Clones to be, but what I believe they could have meant.

2.2 SO, BOBA IS A CLONE

I don’t want to get too repetitive, but I wanted to adress it because even though I by no means intend to put Boba and the Clones in the same bag, there is one aspect about them that I find very similar and interesting, that is the persue of individuality. While the Clones have this very intrinsically connected to their narratives, in Boba’s case this appears more in his concept design. As I mentioned in Part 1, one of the things the CW staff had in mind while designing the mandalorians is that they wanted to make Boba seem unique and distinguishable from them, and honestly even in the original trilogy he stands out a lot. He is unique and memorable and that’s one of the things that draws us to him.

And as we all know, both Boba and Jango and the Clones are played by Temuera Morrison — and occasionally by the wonderful Bodie Taylor and Daniel Logan. And Temuera Morrison comes from the Maori people. And differently from the mandalorian case, where we were talking about a whole planet, in this situation we’re talking about portraying one single person, so there’s nowhere to go around his appearance and phenotypes, right? I mean, you are literally representing an actual individual, so there’s no way you could alter their looks, right?

(hahahaha wrong)

And besides that, I think that is in situations like that (when we are talking about individuals) that the actor’s perspective could really have a place to shine (just the same as how Lea was mostly written by Carrie Fisher). In this very heart-warming interview for The New York Times (which you can read full signing up for their 5-free-articles-per-month policy), Temuera Morrison talks a little bit about how he incorporated his cultural background to Boba Fett in The Mandalorian:

“I come from the Maori nation of New Zealand, the Indigenous people — we’re the Down Under Polynesians — and I wanted to bring that kind of spirit and energy, which we call wairua. I’ve been trained in my cultural dance, which we call the haka. I’ve also been trained in some of our weapons, so that’s how I was able to manipulate some of the weapons in my fight scenes and work with the gaffi stick, which my character has.” [2]

The Gaffi stick (or Gaderffii), btw, is the weapon used by the Tusken Raiders on Tatooine, and according to oceanic art expert Bruno Claessens it’s design was inspired by wooden Fijian war clubs called totokia. [3]

And I think is very clear how this background can influence one’s performance and approach to a character, and majorly how much more alive this character will feel like. Beyond that, having an actor from your culture to play and add elements to a character will higly improve your sense of connection with them (besides all the impact of seeying yourself on screen, and seeying yourself portrayed with respect). It would only make sense if the cultural elements that the actor brought when giving life to a fictional individual would’ve been kept and even deepened while expanding this role. And if you’re familiar with Star Wars Legends you’ll probably rememeber that in Legends Jango would train and raise all Clone troopers in the Mandalorian culture, so that the Clones would sing traditional war chants before battles, be fluent in Mando’a (Mandalore’s language) and some would proudly take mandalorian names for themselves. So why didn’t Filoni Inc. take that into account when they went to delve into the clones in The Clone Wars?

2.3 THE WHITE MINORITY

First of all I’d like to state that all this is 100% me conjecturing, and by no means at all I’m saying that this is what really happened. But while I was re-watching CW before The Bad Batch premiere, something came to my mind regarding the whitewashing of the Clones, and I’d like to leave that on the table.

So, you know this kind of recent movies and series that depicted like, fairies in this fictional world where fairies were very opressed, but there would be a lot of fairies played by white actors? Just like Bright and Carnival Row. If you’ve watched some of these and have some racial conscience, you’ll probably know where I’m going here. And the issue with it is that often this medias will portray real situations of racism and opression and prejudice, but all applied to white people. Like in Carnival Row, when going to work as a maid in a rich human house, our girl Cara Delevingne had to fight not to have her braids (which held a lot of significance in her culture) cut by her intolerant human mistress, because the braids were not “appropriate”. Got it? hahahaha what a joy

Look at her ethnic braids!!!

One of the reasons this happens might be to relieve a white audience of the burden of watching these stories and feeling what I like to call “white guilt”. Because, as we all know, white people were never very oppressed.  Historically speaking, white people have always been in privileged social positions, and in an exploitative relationship between two ethnic groups, white people very usually would be the exploiters  —  the opressors. So while watching situations (that every minority would know to be very real) of opression in fiction, if these situations were lived by a white actor, there would be no real-life associations, because we have no historical parameter to associate this situation with anything in real life — if you are white. Thus, there is less chance that, when consuming one of these narratives, whoever is watching will question the "truthfulness" of these situations (because it's not "real racism", see, "they're just fairies"). It's easier for a person to watch without having to step out of their comfort zone, or confront the reality of real people who actually go through things like that. There's even a chance that this might diminish empathy for these people.

Once again, not saying this is specifically the case of the Clones, majorly because one of the main feelings you have when watching CW is exactly empathy for the troopers (at least for me, honestly, the galaxy could explode, I just wanted those poor men to be happy for God’s sake). But I’ll talk more about it later.

The thing is, the whole thing with the Clones, if you think about it, it’s not pretty. If you step on little tiny bit outside the bubble of “fictional fantasy”, the concept is very outrageous. They are kept in conditions analogous to slavery, to say the least. To say the more, they were literally made in an on-demand lab to serve a purpose they are personally not a part of, for which they will neither receive any reward nor share any part of the gains. On the contrary, as we saw in The Bad Batch, as soon as the war was over and the clones were no longer useful as cannonballs, they were discarded. In the (wonderful) episode 6 of the third season of (the almost flawless) Rebels, “The Last Battle”, we're even personally introduced to the analogy that there really wasn't much difference in value between clones and droids, something that was pretty clear in Clone Wars but hadn't been said explicitly yet.

In fact, technically the Separatists can be considered to be more human than the Republic. But that's just my opinion.

So, you had this whole army of pretty much slaves. I know this is a heavy term, but these were people who were originally stripped of any sense of humanity or individuality, made literally to go to war and die in it, doing so purely in exchange for food and lodging, under the false pretense that they belonged to a glorious purpose (yes, Loki me taught that term, that was the only thing I absorbed from this series). Doing all this under extremely precarious conditions from which they had no chance of getting out, actually, getting out was tantamount to the death penalty. They were slaves. In milder terms, an oppressed minority. And again, I don't know if that was the case, but I can understand why Filoni Inc would be apprehensive about representing phenotically indigenous people in this situation. Especially since we in theory should see Anakin and Obi-Wan as the good guys.

(and here I’d like to leave a little disclaimer that I believe the whole Anakin-was-a-slave-once plot was HUGELY misused (and honestly just badly done) both in the prequels and in the animeted series  — maybe for the best, since he was, you know, white and all that, and I don’t know how the writers would have handled it, but ANYWAY — I believe this could have been further explored, particularly regarding his relationship with the Clones, and how it could have influenced his revolt against the Jedi, and manipulated to add to his anger and all that. I mean, we already HAD the fact that Anakin shared a deeper conection with his troopers than usual)

Yes, Rex, you have common trauma experiences to share. But anyway, backing to my track

As I was saying, we are to see them as good guys, and maybe that could’ve been tricky if we saw them hooping up on slavery practices. Like, idk, a “nice” sugar plantation owner? (I don’t know the correct word for it in english, but in portuguese they were called senhores de engenho) Like this guy from 12 Years a Slave?

You know, the slave owner who was “nice”. IDK, anyway  

No one will ever watch Clone Wars and make this association (I believe not, at least), of course not. But if we were to see how CW deepened the clone arcs, and see them as phenotypically indigenous, subjected to certain situations that occur in CW (yes, like Umbara), maybe some kind of association would’ve been easier to make.

I mean, come onnnn I can’t be the only one seeing it

You see, maybe not the whole 12 Years a Slave association one, but I don’t think it’s hard to see there was something there. And maybe this could’ve been even more evident if they looked non-white. Because historically, both black peoples and indigenous peoples went through processes of slavery, from which we as a society are still impacted today. And to slave a people, the first thing you have to do is strip them from their humanity. So it might be easier to see this situation and apply it to real life. And maybe that could lead to a whole lot of other questions regarding the Clones, the Republic, the Jedi, and even how chill Obi-Wan was about all this. We might come out of it, as lady Ursula Le Guin stated in the fragment above, a bit different from what we were before we watch it.

Maybe even unconsciously, Filoni Inc thought we would be more confortable watching if they just looked white (and because of colonialism and all that, but I’m adding thoughts here).

And of course I don’t like the idea of, idk, looking at Obi-Wan and thinking about Benedict Cumberbatch in 12 Years a Slave or something like that. Of course that, if the Clones were to play the same role as they did in the prequels, to obediently serve the Jedi and quietly die for them, that would have been bad, and hurtfull, and pejorative if added to all that I said here. But the thing is that Clone Wars, consciously or not, already solved that. At least to my point of view, they already managed to approach this situation in an incredible competent way, that is giving them agency.

2.4 AGENCY AND INDIVIDUALITY

So, one of the things I love most in Clone Wars is how it really feels like it’s about the Clones. Like, we have the bigger scene of Palpatine taking over, Ahsoka’s growth arc, Anakin’s turn to The Dark Side, the dawn of the Jedi and rise of the Empire and all that, but it also has this idk, vibe, of there’s actually something going on that no one in scene is talking about? And this something is the Clones. We have these episodes spread throughout the seasons, even out of chronological order, which when watched together tell a parallel story to the war, to everything I mentioned. Which is a story about individuals. Clone Wars manages to, in a (at least to me) very touching way, make the Clones be the heros. 

Can you really look me in the eye and say that Five’s story didn’t CRASH you like a full-speed train???? He may not have the same amount of screen-time as the protagonists, but his story is just as important as theirs (and to me, it might be the most meaningful one). Because he is the first to break free from the opression cicle all the Clones were trapped into. 

His story can be divided into 6 phases.

1 - First, the construction of his individuality, in other words, the reclaiming of his humanity. 

2 - Then the assimilation of understanding yourself as an individual of value, and then extending this to all his brothers, not as a unit, but as a set of individuals collectively having this same newly discovered value.

3 - This makes him realize that in the situation they find themselves in, they are not being recognized as such. This makes him question the reality of their situation.

4 - Freed from the illusion of his state, he seeks the truth about it.

5 - This then leads him to seek liberation not just for himself, but for all the Clones (it's basically Plato's Cave, and I'm not exaggerating here).

6 - And finally, precisely because he has assimilated his individuality and sought freedom for himself and his brothers, he is punished for it.

His story is all about agency. Agency, according to the Wikipedia page that is the first to appear if you type “agency” on Google, is that agency is “the abstract principle that autonomous beings, agents, are capable of acting by themselves” [4], and this abstract principle can be dissected in 7 segments:

Law - a person acting on behalf of another person

Religious -  "the privilege of choice... introduced by God"

Moral -  capacity for making moral judgments

Philosophical -  the capacity of an autonomous agent to act, relating to action theory in philosophy

Psychological -  the ability to recognize or attribute agency in humans and non-human animals

Sociological -  the ability of social actors to make independent choices, relating to action theory in sociology

Structural - ability of an individual to organize future situations and resource distribution

All of them apply here. And this is just the story of one Clone. We know there are many others throughout the series. 

Agency is what can make the world of a difference when you are telling a story about an opressed minority. Because opressed minorities do exist, and opression exists, and if you are insecure about consuming a fictional media about opressed minorities, see if they have agency might be a good place to start. So that’s why I think that everything I said before in 2.3 falls short. Because the solution already existed, and was indeed done. Honestly, making the non-agency representation of the Clones (the one we see in the prequels) to be the one played by Temuera Morrison, and then giving them agency in the version where they appear to be white, just leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

And honestly, if they were to make the Clones look like Temuera Morrison, and by that mean, take more inspiration in the Māori culture, maybe they wouldn’t even have to change much of their representation besides their facial features. As I said in part 1, I am not by any means an expert in polynesian cultures, but there was something that really got me while I was researching about it. And is the facial tattoos. More precisely, the tā moko. 

2.5  TĀ MOKO

Once again I’ll be using the Te Ara: The Encyclopedia of New Zealand as source, and you can find the articles used linked at the end of this post. 

Etymologically speaking,

“The term moko traditionally applied to male facial tattooing, while kauae referred to moko on the chins of women. There were other specific terms for tattooing on other parts of the body. Eventually ‘moko’ came to be used for Māori tattooing in general.” [5]

So moko is the correct name for the characteristic tattoos we often see when we look for Māori culture. 

These ones ^. Please also look this book up, it’s beautiful. It’s written by  Ngahuia Te Awekotuku, a New Zealand academic specialising in Māori cultural issues and a lesbian activist. She’s wonderful. 

According to the Tourism NewZealand website, 

“In Māori culture, it [moko] reflects the individual's whakapapa (ancestry) and personal history. In earlier times it was an important signifier of social rank, knowledge, skill and eligibility to marry.”

“Traditionally men received moko on their faces, buttocks and thighs. Māori face tattoos are the ultimate expression of Māori identity. Māori believe the head is the most sacred part of the body, so facial tattoos have special significance.”

[...] “The main lines in a Māori tattoo are called manawa, which is the Māori word for heart.” [6]

Therefore, in the Māori culture, there’s this incredibly deep meaning attributed to the (specific of their culture) tattooing of the face. The act of tattooing the body, any part of the body, is incredibly powerful in many cultures around the globe. The adornment of the body can have different meanings for these different cultures, but all of which I've come into contact with do mean a lot. It’s one of the oldest and most beautiful human expressions of individuality and identity. 

And in the Star Wars universe, the Clones are the group that has the deeper connection to, and the best narrative regarding, tattoos. In fact, besides Hera’s father, Cham Syndulla, the Clones are the only individuals to have tattooed skin, at least that I can recall of. And they do share a deep connection to it. 

For the Clones, the tattoos (added to hairstyles) are the most meaningful way in which they can express themselves. Is what makes them distinguishable from each other to other people. Tattoos are one of the things that represent them as individuals.

And I’m not BY ANY MEANS sayin that the Clones facial tattoos = Moko. That’s not my point. But that’s one of the things I meant when I said earlier about the wasted potential of the representation of the Clones (in my point of view). Because maybe if it were their intention to base the culture of the clones after the polynesian culture, maybe if it were their intention to make the Clones actually look like Temuera Morrison, this could have meant a whole deal. More than it’d appear looking to it from outside this culture. Maybe if there were actual polynesian people in the team that designed the Clones and wrote them (or at least indigenous people, something), who knows what we could’ve had. 

Even in Hunter’s design, I noticed that if you take for example this frame of Temuera from the movie River Queen (2005), where we can have a closer look at the design of his tā moko

Speaking purely plastically (because I don’t want to get into the movie itself, just using it as example because then I can use Temuera himself as a comparison), see the lines around the contours of his mouth? Now look at Hunter’s. 

I find it interesting that they choose to design this lines coming from around his nose like that. But at this point I am stretching A LOT into plastic and semiotics, so this comparison is just a little thing that got my attention. I know that his tattoo is a skull and etc etc, I’m just poiting this out. And it even makes me a little frustrated, because they could have taken so many interesting paths in the Bad Batch designs. But instead they choose to pay homage to Rambo. And I mean, I like Rambo, I think he’s cool and all that.

Look at him doing Filipino martial arts

But then, as we say in Brasil, they had the knife and the cheese in their hands (all they had to do was cut the cheese, but they didn’t). Istead, it seems like in order to make Hunter look like Rambo, they made him even whiter??? 

2.6 SO...

Look, I love The Clone Wars. I’m crazy about it. I love the Clones, I love their stories and plots. They are great characters and one of the greatest addings ever made in the Star Wars universe. They even have, in my opinion, the best soundtrack piece to feature in a Star Wars media since John Williams’ wonderful score. It just feels to me as if their narrative core is full of bagage, and meanings, and associations that were just wiped under the carpet when they suddenly became white. It just feels to me as if, once again, they were trying to erase the person behing the trooper mask, and the people they were to represent, and the history they should evoke.

I don’t know why they were whitewashed. Maybe it was just the old due racism and colonialism. Maybe it was meant for us to not question the Jedi, or our good guys, or the real morality of this fictional universe where we were immersed. But then, was it meant for what?

The Clones were a metaphor for what? 

(spoiler: the answer still contains colonialism)

Thank you so much for reading !!!! (and congratulations for getting this far, you are a true hero)

SOURCES USED IN THIS:

[1] Ursulla K. Le Guin, 'The Left Hand of Darkness', 14th ACE print run of June, 1977

[2] Dave Itzkoff, 'Being Boba Fett: Temuera Morrison Discusses ‘The Mandalorian’', The New York Times, published Dec. 7, 2020, https://www.nytimes.com/2020/12/07/arts/television/the-mandalorian-boba-fett-temuera-morrison.html (accessed 15 September 2021)

[3] Bruno Claessens, 'George Lucas' "Star Wars" and Oceanic art' , Archived from the original on December 5, 2020, https://web.archive.org/web/20201205114353/http://brunoclaessens.com/2015/07/george-lucas-star-wars-and-oceanic-art/#.YEiJ-p37RhF (accessed 15 September 2021)

[4]  Wikipedia contributors, "Agency," Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Agency&oldid=1037924611 (accessed September 17, 2021)

[5] Rawinia Higgins, 'Tā moko – Māori tattooing - Origins of tā moko', Te Ara - the Encyclopedia of New Zealand, http://www.TeAra.govt.nz/en/ta-moko-maori-tattooing/page-1 (accessed 17 September 2021)

[6] Tourism New Zealand, ‘The meaning of tā moko, traditional Māori tattoos’,  The Tourism New Zealand website, https://www.newzealand.com/us/feature/ta-moko-maori-tattoo/ (accessed 17 September 2021)

[prismadog]

I kinda had a suggestion for your au,

So if you don't want to read it, this is your time to delete this ask,

But yeah, maybe Xornoth hasn't been completely corrupted when Scott's people sends them to the nether

As in like, he is definitely very corrupted and evil, but it's not too late for him to become human again

And then [insert something involving Shrub] happens and he is presented the choice of becoming human again and unlocking all the power of exor, at the cost of turning away from his humanity forever

why wouldn't I want to read a suggestion? I love talking to people! and I'd love to hear any feedback, comments, or suggestions!

ooh...I love this idea so much already!

I haven't thought too much about the end game yet but I have thought a bit about pre-exile Xornoth and it's pretty much what you said: maybe they're not fully corrupted and there's a chance for him to return to his former self.

EDIT: this is a quick message from after typing out the below post. I somehow ended up coming up with an end game, idk how that happened but it did. it's not exactly like you suggested but I hope it satisfies well enough. I really loved your ask btw.

also, this is fairly long so I'm putting a "keep reading line below". I think I might have also sort of written a story here? like, I meant for this to be just a little response but...it's not. it's practically a story for how things will go down. obviously, it'll need work, but it's a start!

.

pre-exile chance

my thoughts: there was one moment when Xornoth really questioned their actions, questioned their blind faith to Exor, questioned how they became a monster when all they wanted was to be the beloved hero that their brother Alinar is.

that moment, it was when they were banished from their home, but before they were exiled to the Nether. the people wanted them gone and they turned to their brother for help, they wanted Alinar to keep the people from banishing them. the moment where Xornoth questioned everything was when Alinar turned his back on them.

they moved to the caves and questioned every single little thing they've ever done - where had they gone wrong? why wasn't Alinar proud of him? maybe...maybe everything they were doing wasn't so good after all.

I believe that if when Alinar had found his brother again, if he had asked Aeor for aid in saving his brother instead of banishing them for good, there would have been a chance for Xornoth to return to his former self. but no, Alinar had to go and remove that chance entirely from the equation and exile his brother in the Nether.

* I'm using the Clash of the Great Stags as reference for that part above. I'm leaving Conal & Alinar's canon story as history for the AU versions, though, there might be a tweak or two in the future, who knows?

but. after reading your suggestion and having a good long think about this...maybe there is still a chance, even after Alinar turned his back on his brother.

so...I'ma gonna hash things out here.

.

hash out chance

we the fans know that there's going to be some form of "final battle" between the rulers and Xornoth - the same will be true for the AU as well. it'll be Xornoth, Sausage, Joey, and Shrub against everyone else - though, for Shrub, she doesn't want to fight, she doesn't want to see anyone get hurt, she just wants everyone to get along. but she knows that no matter what she does, everyone will end up at the final battle, ready for war.

but before that, there's a lot of moments where, like in canon, everyone is trying to find a cure for the corruption plaguing their lands. Shrub is no different, except, she pushes more towards a cure for people, for the demon themself.

Katherine, Scott, and Gem are more than willing to help her find a cure - they don't really know why Shrub is so insistent on curing the demon, she only ever vaguely tells them her reasons, but they're still going to help her because they're her friends.

during this, Scott will talk to Aeor, wondering if there is a way to cure the corruption at its source - the demon - without shedding any more blood.

Aeor, I know he's supposed to be a good god, believing in peace and equality - and he is a good god, but...I don't think he would want to resolve things between him and Exor peacefully. in the story I linked, he pretty much jumped right into a fight with Exor without hesitation

so, that being said, I don't think things would be any different even if his champion was looking for peaceful solutions. I believe Aeor would want Scott to take up arms against Xornoth and fight for him, to end the corruption once and for all.

Scott would be reluctant of course, torn between his god's wishes and helping his friends. so, maybe he does both - he'll try to help his friends find a cure for the demon but he'll also prepare for the inevitable final battle.

Shrub and her friends work tirelessly trying to find a cure, making several different potions, and each one Shrub takes home with her and gives them to Xornoth. they're reluctant to take the potions but they'll do anything for their gnome, even if it means turning their back on their god and giving up all the power Exor gifted them.

so, Xornoth tries every different potion given to them, even though not a single one has any effect on them, until all options are completely eliminated and the rulers run out of ideas. at that point in time, there is no other choice except war - war between the gods, between their champions, between people who were all once friends but are now on opposing sides.

maybe this is where Shrub breaks completely, at the moment when the others give up. maybe she begs them to keep trying - just one more potion, that's all we need, the next one will be the right one, I just know it, please keep trying, please don't give up yet, we have to keeping trying.

they'll question her on why she wants the demon cured so badly, they'll question despite knowing that she's only going to dodge every question asked.

but this time. this time Shrub doesn't dodge. this time, she stops giving vague answers and she stops telling lies that leave her with a pit in her stomach. this time, she breaks. this time, she tells them the truth. this time, she tells them the story of her life, her connection to the demon and how Xornoth is like a father to her - tending to her injuries, telling her stories, teaching her so many things, but most of all, loving her unconditionally.

she begs their forgiveness for lying to them for so long, begs them to help her find a cure for the only family she's ever known, begs them to not give up yet.

the other rulers would obviously be shocked, some might walk away feeling hurt and betrayed, some might come to Shrub and accept her as the child of the monster that plagues their lands. those that do accept her, they comfort her and she comforts them. they might all keep trying to make a cure, despite how hopeless it seems - they've already failed so many times, what more can they do?

Xornoth would have the same thoughts - what more can the rulers do? everything they tried, every potion made, has failed and it's just going to be more of the same. so, they make a decision, the demon seals their fate, the demon makes the call for war.

they go into the final battle reluctantly, knowing that there's only one true way to cure them and wishing that it didn't have to be with their death. they go into that battle hoping their little Shrub - their sweet, kind girl who showed them a better way of living - will be okay when they're gone. they know that her friends will be there for her so she should be okay, she can survive.

the two sides face off. no one wants to fight. Shrub, though she stands on the side of the rulers, is torn between her friends and her family. everyone there knows that the speeches given by the rulers of the Overworld are a poor attempt at staving off the inevitable.

Xornoth wants to be the one to throw the first punch, to get the ball rolling, get this fight done and over with, but they see their gnome, their beloved child, staring at them from across the battlefield, and she's crying. the battle hasn't even started and yet, she's mourning their death.

they don't attack. they stay their hand. they stand down. they move forward, hands up and open, free of any weapon, and walk gladly towards their demise. no one moves, all are still as the demon approaches, the usual sinister grin replaced by a grimace of heartache.

the demon stops before them, before their little Shrub and before the elf that looks so much like the brother they lost. Xornoth kneels at their feet, they say their parting words of love to their gnome, then they bow their head and tell Aeor's Champion to make it a quick death and please, if you could do me one favor, please don't let Shrub watch, please don't let her be here.

Shrub tries to go to her father's side, tries to beg them not to do this - there's still time, we can still find a way, please don't do this, please don't give up. Katherine and Gem hold her, embrace her in a way that her eyes are shielded from the bloodshed that's soon to come. they look to Scott, he's the one with the powers of a god that can rival the demon's darkness.

Scott is shaking where he stands but it's not from fear. he stands before the demon, above the monster that's terrorized his friends, and in his hands is the weapon that will strike the final blow and end everything. he had thought for a long time that Alinar was right in his actions, following the path Aeor laid out before him, banishing the only family he had to another world.

but standing here, knowing what he knows now about his friend Shrub, what he knows about himself as Aeor's Champion and about his past life as Alinar - he knows that Alinar made the wrong choice, he knows that there is a better way.

Scott, knowing that his next action is going to displease his god, drops the blessed weapon given to him and says - No. he kneels before the monster and says - You will not die today. he embraces the brother he never knew and says - We will find a cure.

this is where Aeor has a choice to make - enact justice on the crimes committed by Exor - or forgive his sins.

the Stag God follows his Champion's lead and chooses forgiveness. he stands before his own brother and chooses to end the war they've fought for eons.

with this, the corruption dies around them and Conal is freed. the demon melts away and an elf emerges from its remains. Conal embraces their brother come back to life and relishes in the life he's been gifted.

Shrub breaks free from her friends and practically crushes her family - both her father and Scott - with an embrace of her own. she cries enough tears for the both of them, though, Conal comes pretty close to out-crying their child.

and with that, the war is over, the demon is defeated, and the Overworld can live in peace once again.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Badass || Bill Denbrough x Reader

Day 2 of Fictober

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x [gn] Reader

Requested: how about you do a bill x reader where the reader is a badass but still in the losers club???? just came up with it!!! btw love ya work and love ya!!!!

A//n: Aw thank you so much! That’s so sweet of you. Love you too darling, hope you like it 💛💛💛 and thanks for being so patient like the rest y'all 😘 [also i am in no way a badass so I’m sorry, I tried lol] edit: OKAY IM ACTUALLY SO PROUD OF THIS, HOLY CRAP?? And again, i finished and pressed saved draft 30 SECONDS before midnight, so fight me this counts lol i just had to set up the title and tags and stuff on my computer before posting. anyways, thanks for waiting for this request, i hope you enjoy this, like i said, im actually surprised at how proud of this one i am!

Fictober Prompt: “that’s the easy part”

Warnings: Blood

“ROCK WAR~!”

The next thing you knew, rocks were soaring across the stream straight for your head. Luckily for your skull, your reflexes were faster than you remembered and you managed to duck before a giant stone could knock you out.

And yet you still heard a thump?

You peek out from behind your arms, looking behind you to see Richie laying flat on his ass, his glasses askew. You winced before you caught sight of a giant rock near his foot and quickly made a grab for it.

Your glare stretches across the stream, settling on the leader of the bigoted pack. You kissed the rock as you met his eye, a devilish smirk stretching across your face as you wound up. Bowers was scrambling for ammo but you had already released. The rock found its target with a satisfying ‘thunk’ leaving Bowers on his ass clutching his bleeding nose. He pulls his hand away, gaping at the overwhelming amount of blood that had already painted his hand before locking eyes with you.

“KISS MY ASS, HENRY!” You hollered with a triumphant smile. “YOU TWISTED FUCK!”

“What the fuck?” Belch and Victor began scrambling back, looking around desperately for rocks of their own.

The Losers spared wide eyed glances your direction as they unleashed a storm of rocks on the now deeply unsettled Bowers gang. Bill was the only one who hesitated, his wide blue eyes frozen on you when you turned to give him a smirk. You had been looking for ammo and it seemed he had the perfect one. You cocked a brow, your devilish smirk still dominating your face as you gestured to the stone in his hand.

“You gonna use that, Billy Boy?”

You threw a few quick glances across the barrens making sure your weren’t gonna get hit. Luckily morale seemed to be growing scarce over there.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t completely gone.

“Ow,” Bill hissed, right hand clutching his left shoulder. “F-f-uck.”

Your head whipped around on your shoulders again to see Victor Criss’s upper lip twitching into a satisfied smile as he looked at Bill. You returned your attention to your boyfriend and the rock he held out for you.

“Let me,” you seethed.

You snatched the rock up, stomping forward with a wild glare in your eyes that was enough to intimidate the bleach blonde. Victor was already on his heels and running, but you weren’t letting him get away that easy. You threw with all your might and watched with pride as it soared through the air and hit him directly on the spine that was poking through his back. He cried out in pain as he fell to the ground, his chin meeting the very rock bed that fueled the fight.

“EAT SHIT,” You spit. “YOU LACKEY ASS FUCK!”

~~~~

“Turn it off!” Beverly cried. “TURN IT OFF!”

The projector in Bill’s garage had quickly turned into It’s stage as It put on a horrific display for you and the rest of your friends. What was just once pictures of Derry, suddenly turned into pictures of Bill’s family - you missed Georgie terribly, having grown so close with him the year before he died when you and Bill first got together. And now you were all staring death in the eyes as It manipulated the very air in the room around you. Every click of the projector put you on edge, the stroking effect and of course the child eating clown tormenting you all.

It was hard to process your own thoughts as they were quickly drowning in everyone’s screams and your own fears. You clutched Bill tightly to your side, your arms linked and your fingers stitched together. Everything was moving so incredibly fast it was near impossible to process until you realized you weren’t holding Bill’s hand anymore.

“Y-Y/n!” He cried, tugging at the back of your shirt before it slips from his grip. “Y/N!”

Mike had already unplugged the projector, that much you knew. But you were fucking desperate. You lunged for the projector, gripping it tightly as you held it high above your head. With a guttural scream, you threw it as hard as you possibly could into the cement floor. It broke instantly into several unidentifiable pieces, the room now completely dark and eerily silent.

Heaving, you finally look up to meet your friends faces. Each of them were gaping at you, an expression they seemed to always be wearing around you.

“Well,” you say finally. “I think it’s safe to say we found It.”

~~~~

“How hard is it,” you seethed, your voice growing in volume. “to NOT wander off? In a FUCKING HAUNTED HOUSE?!”

You took all your anger and fear out on the door Richie was being held in. Your elbows were practically glued to the surface while your fists and forearms repeatedly pounded on the door. First Eddie, now Richie. You swear, these idiots had to me smarter than this.

“Richie!” Bill joined your side, pounding on the door that had closed all on its own.

“RICHARD!” You pounded on the door again, your anger turning to pure fear that was now stinging your throat and eyes as tears began to well. “This is not fucking funny, open the goddamn door asshole!”

Your hand wraps around the doorknob again, and you shake the handle, jostling it around in hopes something will cave. When the door flew open, you didn’t know whether to chalk it up to luck, skill, or it was all still part of It’s torment but you didn’t care. Richie was alive, and tumbled into your and Bill’s grip.

“Richie!” You hugged the boy tightly, then pulled away with your signature glare. “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!?”

“N-n-no t-time,” Bill says, looking between you and Richie with determination in his eyes. “L-let’s get outta here.”

A muted thump answered before you could. You, Richie and Bill all looked to the source of the noise to see the moth-eaten mattress from earlier was now shifting by itself. It looked as if it was filled with jumping beans. A melon sized lump grew in the center before the fabric split to reveal the disheveled and muddied up head of your friend.

He smiles at your twisted expressions. “Wanna play loogie?”

Your reflexes are faster than your thought process and you run forward. Just as a strange black goo starts to spill from fake Eddie’s mouth, your leg was swinging through the air. Your left foot connected with the left side of his jaw, narrowly missing the sizzling black ink and Eddie’s head popped off his body as you put it across the room.

It sails through the air, his greasy hair catching several cobwebs as it spins. Specks of the goo go flying landing on the walls and ceiling before the small head collides with a disturbing ‘thunk’.

“What the fuck?!”

“Holy shit,”

Eddie’s head lands in the far corner of the room where it rolls back and forth on his right ear before settling. He was groaning as if all the spinning had made him dizzy. The ooze of black goo came out even faster as if he were ralphing, and it was now pooling across the floor and inching towards their feed.

“Oh, that’s fucking GROSS!” Richie looks quickly to you. “And now you made him angry!”

“At least I did something!”

“Guys,” Bill pleads. “C-come on,”

The pool of black tar is spreading fast and you and Richie don’t have to think twice to listen to Bill. You all turn on your heel, only to find three doors instead of one.

Very Scary, Scary, and Not Scary At All.

Not Scary At All was the winner, Bill and Richie quickly decide. And despite your protest that it was all clearly a trick and the doors were misnomers, they opened the Not Scary At All.

“Where’s My Shoe?”

The light was turned on to reveal the severed body of Betty Ripsom and you had promptly decided you had had more than enough.

“WHERE THE FUCK WERE HER LEGS?!” Richie cried.

“I’ve got a guess but I’m not sticking around to find out.” You growled.

You cast a glance behind you to see the tar had eaten up most of the floor, giving you little room to do what you wanted. Luckily, you didn’t need much. You took a few steps back and looked at the door in the center, your eyes settling deep into the crimson letters spelling “scary.” You were certainly glad you realized when you did that unlike the door that held Richie hostage, this one could easily be broken down from where you stood.

You sighed. “I have to do everything.”

~~~~

“WELCOME TO THE LOSERS CLUB, ASSHOLE!”

Richie’s bat swung through the air and knocked the clown back. Pennywise quickly recovered and lunged for the nearest target with a disgusting growl. You quickly scrambled for a weapon as Mike stepped up to bat. He threw the fence iron rod at the monster but it was stopped midair when It’s jaw unhinged and out came several charred arms holding it in place. More and more reached out from inside It’s throat and made a grab at Mike who was fighting back the force of all the arms.

You never happier to have been too slow to save your friend when you saw Stanley pick up one of several spare iron rods off the ground. With a brave determination, he launched forward with a fierce battle cry as his torch came down on the branch of arms that now recoiled, saving Mike. It stumbled back, the charred arms slinking back into its mouth and disappearing and Pennywise stumbles again when Richie kicks It forward and away from him. Unfortunately that brought It right to Stanley.

“Stan, watch out!” Bill cries from your side.

But it’s too late, It’s head had already changed to the same horribly contorted lady that had you had already found attacking your friend. Only this time it was still wearing It’s clown suit, and it was racing straight for Stan.

“Stan!” You cried, already running forward after him only to stop second later.

Yet again Stanley roared, striking the clown across the face with the most furious look you had ever seen on him. Despite the horrifying circumstances, you were quite proud. You quickly fell back into line, ready to fight with the others and you smiled yet again when Mike followed up Stan’s strike with a devastating blow of his own.

The small moment of victory was soon cut short - a pattern you were currently getting used to - when a pair of red tentacles-turned-crab-claws pulled Mike to the ground.

“Mike!” Eddie shrieked.

Mike was able to barrel roll to safety as as It advanced on him. The end of each gigantic claw striking the earth and narrowly missing him and you and your friends quickly followed not knowing what to do. You couldn’t watch it anymore, and you hated yourself for what you were about to do but you knew you would simply never forgive yourself if you lost Mike, or any of your friends.

For what Bill wished was the first time of the summer, he felt you leave his side as you charged headlong into danger. Another guttural scream left you as you hurled yourself onto It’s back, your iron spike in front of It’s neck, both hands on either side of the rod and you pulled as hard as you could.

Pennywise’s disturbing, maniacal laughter grew even scarier, something you didn’t think was possible as he began to suffocate. You let yourself drop back down to the ground, your grip still tight on your weapon as you used your position to pull It down to the ground. It was still laughing through chocked breathes but it had done what you hoped, and stopped, Mike had gotten to safety with the Losers.

And for one glorious moment you felt indestructible. Until you saw it shift before you’re very eyes and your eyes widened, as did the eyes of your friends and Bill. It’s complete figure changed, starting with It’s head. You and the Losers no longer saw a painted lady, a mummy, a horrible memory, an abusive father, or even a late little brother. But they saw you, their friend Y/n, cowering and crying under the iron rod that pinned you to the ground by the neck.

“Please,” It whimpered, bottom lip quivering horribly. “Please don’t. I don’t wanna die.”

The real you was staring at the sight of yourself, the real fake you that you always tried so hard to push down. You knew it was Pennywise, but it was enough to make you choke completely. You were always so confident, and you were good at sticking up for yourself and the rest of the Losers. At least that’s all they ever saw, that’s all you ever let them see. Deep down you were terrified, and much more than that you were terrified that your own fear would get in the way of protecting your loved ones.

Like now.

“Y/n?” Bill’s soft voice called out to you, breaking you from your spell.

You look down at your blubbering face, tears streaking down your cheeks as you begged yourself for mercy. Several pleas leaving your lips when finally you pulled the rod back. Your eyelids flicker open, gazing back up at you and watch your every move cowering.

“Y/n?” Ben asks.

You don’t answer, you just straighten, your demon double cowering beneath you and it only angers you more to know none of this is It’s own fear. It was yours. It was mocking you.

Which was pretty stupid, considering you still had the spike.

You bare your teeth as you summon your strength, throwing the end of the spike into the ground, going right through your throat.

~~~~

You watched with head on Bill’s shoulder as another drop of blood from your palm fell onto the grass. You were trying to think about anything but the pain, and with everything you had faced this summer, you certainly had the pick of the litter.

“It feels different now,” you say, voice quiet. “And not just cause It’s gone, ya know?”

You even hate to let yourself believe that, but for the sake of your sanity and the chance of every getting another night’s sleep you’d have to believe it. And knowing Bill as long as you did, you know he felt it too.

You pick your head up off his shoulder and look to his gaze break away from the hills in the distance to meet your eyes. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, and you know for sure he’s thinking it too. Beverly was leaving for Portland, Stan said he heard whispers from his parents that they might be moving and that was all on top of the heavy weight of your guys’ trauma that had already begun to drain everyone.

“A-a-at least we-we’ve got each o-other,”

You smiled, nudging his shoulder with your own.

“Big sap,” you chuckled.

He smiled a little, enjoying the small moment between the two of you. But it disappears when his mind returns to image that had been replaying in his mind nonstop since Neibolt. The image of your cowering form that bothered you so much. He had never seen you - the real you, that was being confronted, that is - so distraught. He gulps, gathering his strength.

“W-what made you s-see that?” He asks.

You don’t answer for a long moment, and Bill fears he’s upset you. Or confused you, but he doubts that is the case. Finally, you look up at him, and lick your lips nervously.

“I’m scared Bill,” you croaked, heart pounding wildly at the admission. “I’m always worrying about you, I’m always worrying about Richie, Mike, Eddie, Stanley, Bev, and Ben. I’m always worried something is going to happen. I’m always scared something’s gonna happen to the ones I love, and I get scared that I’m not gonna be enough to protect them.”

You take a deep breath, swallowing all the air you lost in your unintentional rant. Somewhere during your confession, your gaze broke away from Bill’s gaze and now here you were afraid to even look him in the eye.

There’s another silence that Bill finally ends after a small thoughtful moment.

“It’s okay to be scared, Y/n,” he says, pulling your eyes to him. “I-I-It’s part of being h-human.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying your best to banish the image of your cowardly form from your mind. Suddenly the sting of your cut didn’t hurt so bad.

You looked back into Bill’s soft eyes, and shrugged.

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel too great either.”

He nudged you again with a charming smile.

“Well, y-you’re still a badass. Y-You’re always s-standing up for us,”

You chuckled weakly, sending him a smirk.

“That’s the easy part,” you say. “It’s looking out for myself that’s harder.”

“T-t-tell ya what?” You raise a brow at his sudden demeanor. “I’ll be t-the b-b-badass lookin out for you,”

You laughed, leaning in and giving him a lingering kiss that turned his cheeks absolutely scarlet.

You smiled when you saw this. “Thanks Billy Boy. Appreciate it. But I’d still like to work on myself a bit, ya know?”

He smiles again, this time triumphantly. “Deal.”

[indiaalphawhiskey]

I respectfully disagree with your last post (as an author). I’ve been in this fandom for 6 years and noticed it’s a little bit toxic when it comes to certain issues that should be normal and obvious to anyone.

I don’t get the “I choose the people I want to take criticism from” part. Ok, so why posting your work on a public page for independent writers where every subscriber will be able to read it and comment on it? Just send it to the people whose opinion matters to you and have a discussion about your work with them. If you post your work on a public page made specifically for independent writers, you are automatically posting it for everyone on that site. And every person has opinions on things and feels invited to express it if that particular thing is public and comments are open (I’m talking about respectful opinions, not slurs and offending someone).

If it was only for you and the people you actually want to get feedback from then wouldn’t it be easier to create an “élite” group where you read your work and then discuss it together? Because your post sends a very negative and exclusionary message to people that are reading your work for the first time or without knowing you as an author. It really seems like you are saying “dear readers, your opinion doesn’t matter to me so unless it’s positive I don’t want to hear it because this fanfic was written for me and this list of people.” Then don’t post it. But why making people feel excluded or bad because they did something normal just because they didn’t know it wasn’t written “for them” as you said in your post. And constructive criticism is just an opinion too as long as it doesn’t contain vulgarities, you don’t have to listen to it. Other’s opinion shouldn’t change the way you feel about your work but you also shouldn’t make them feel uncomfortable and bad for expressing it in a respectful way on a public page.

I know that authors on AO3 aren’t paid and that’s just for fun, but that’s what every page like AO3 is about: putting your work out there for other people to read with the possibility to express their personal opinion in a respectful way (I mean, you CAN disable the comments). Why making it public and then complaining and making other people feel bad for expressing their opinion on it? It’s not a diary or a personal Instagram profile.

So, first off, thank you for saying you respectfully disagree with me. I appreciate that you’re trying to be polite. 

There are many different ways I can answer this ask, because there’s a lot to discuss here, however, I’m exhausted by this conversation and have tackled it many times before, so I’ll link things when I see fit and get straight to the point.

My question for you is this: What is the purpose of you posting negative  (even though well-worded, polite, and tactful) unsolicited comments on a person’s fanfic? Why do you do it?

That’s not a rhetorical question, I really want you to think about the answer, because, for something to be called “constructive criticism” (which is specifically what we’re discussing here, versus the opposite “destructive” criticism) there has to be a point beyond just the fact that “it’s a public forum” and therefore, you feel entitled to express your opinion, whatever it may be. (That reasoning, btw, is called entitlement. No one said you weren’t allowed to have an opinion, but if you’re saying it to the author with no constructive, bettering purpose behind it, then at worst, your intent is to hurt them, which is just mean, no matter how politely you word it, and at best, you’re saying your opinions and preference take precedent over the author’s own.)

There are three reasons that I assume one can have when posting constructive criticism on work/art:

1. You want to help make them be a better writer, both now and in the future. 

I, and other fellow authors, explain why this doesn’t work here and here, and there are more posts about it like this one, if you need to hear it from voices that are not from the Larry fandom (which I assume you do, since you said this is a little bit toxic here particularly.) 

I encourage you to read all those posts, to get a better explanation in context, but the gist of them is this: for something to be truly constructive (synonym: helpful), the source, the timing, and the tact is key. Let me demonstrate: There is a difference between telling a friend while shopping, “I wouldn’t buy that dress, it’s not the most flattering on you,” and saying, while you’re out at a club, “Oh, that dress isn’t the most flattering on you, I wouldn’t wear it again.” -- Both are honest, worded politely, and both will achieve the same outcome: she will not wear the dress again -- but only one of them will cause undue stress, embarrassment, and self-consciousness (under the guise of being helpful), and that is all due to tact and timing. At the store, she can change into something else, and won’t assume you think she looks awful the entire day while you’re out. At the club, the damage is done, there is nothing she can do to change it, and you’ve just ruined her night.

The same goes for writing. I have seen people gracefully and willingly rewrite their entire first drafts based on astute and even harsh comments on their work, by their betas. I have never seen someone take down a fic and edit it based on a piece of constructive criticism given by a stranger on AO3. What I have seen based on that scenario, is people taking that criticism to heart and reflecting on whether or not they ever want to write again, because when they made themselves vulnerable, some people looked at it as an opportunity to ask for what would cater best to their own tastes, instead of appreciating the work as a true product of the author’s personal feelings and experiences. That results in less writers for the fandom, less content, and a whole lot of undue discouragement which is not something we want (nor is it actually constructive).

2. You want to engage the author in a deeper discussion of their work.

This is in direct answer to this part of your ask:

It really seems like you are saying “dear readers, your opinion doesn’t matter to me so unless it’s positive I don’t want to hear it because this fanfic was written for me and this list of people.”

You feel passionate (both positively and negatively) about my work? That’s lovely. I say, start a discussion with me. Ask me questions. Learn why I made those decisions. A discussion starts with an invitation to have a conversation (two ways, you say something, I say something, rinse repeat). It doesn’t start with “I didn’t like” or “This could have been better if”, and it certainly doesn’t start in a public forum, like the comments on AO3, where the writer runs the risk of looking like a defensive asshole. 

But India, you say, what if I don’t have the means to have a private conversation/the writer doesn’t have tumblr/they’ve long since been inactive in the fandom? The answers are, respectively: leave a polite comment asking if they’re willing to discuss, if they are willing to discuss, leave a polite comment asking how to contact them, and if they’re no longer active, find other friends with which to discuss your feelings in private.

But India, that seems like so much work. It is, flat out. But if you really felt that strongly about something I wrote, you would make that effort to understand it. Otherwise, why not just walk away?

3. You don’t know better.

I found this part of your ask extremely interesting:

“But why making people feel excluded or bad because they did something normal just because they didn’t know it wasn’t written “for them” as you said in your post.”

The reason I found it interesting is because it means that there are people who assume that all work that is public was made for them, to suit their tastes, which is, frankly, a bizarre way to consume art. I do not go into The Louvre, look at the Mona Lisa and say “I don’t see the hype, it’s not something I would hang in my living room.” I look at it and think “What does this piece say about Da Vinci and his life? What has this brought to the world? How has this helped people/art/culture?”

(No, I am in no way comparing my talents to Da Vinci, I am not delusional. But, I don’t think my work deserves any less thought than that of a professional artist, simply because I’m an amateur and it’s on the internet and not in a gallery, and you have the superpower of anonymity.) You asked me what the point was in posting my work publicly if I didn’t want to hear every single person’s personal (negative) take on it, and the answer is this: I post what I write publicly, because I hope it helps someone. I hope my thoughts, feelings, experiences, loneliness validate someone, entertain them, help them through a tough time, bring them comfort. I post because I want to invite people to lose themselves alongside me, heal alongside me, dream alongside me. 

(Notice how I said “someone” and not “everyone”. How I said “someone” and not “an élite group that discusses my work”, because yes, I do hope that my work positively impacts someone outside of my betas, my friend group. Does that mean someone can leave negative comments on my work? Yes. But should they? That’s a different question.)

I know my work won’t be a positive experience for every single person, but my goal was never to be relevant to every single person. So, my question is, if I’m not relevant to you personally -- if my work doesn’t touch you personally, heal you personally, entertain you personally, why not just walk away and find something that does? Who does your negative opinion really help? How is it constructive? What is its purpose? Why do you do it?

I will apologize for this, though: I spoke on behalf of all writers, and maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have been clear that though many writers feel this way, not all do. There are some, such as, I assume, yourself, who do view negative comments on AO3 as constructive, whether or not they are solicited, and I’m sorry to have spoken on behalf of you. However, I do still stand by this, though: it is much better to be kind than be right, and that definitely goes for comments on fic.