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tiny-katara · 2 years

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cilla my beloved not to bother you in the asks again BUT i realized i’ve never seen your LOK thoughts & i’d love to know them! (i just saw ur tags & u mentioned the animated movie probably wouldn’t be any better than lok - agreed - so i assume you’ve seen it, but if u haven’t then feel free to ignore this!)

have a great day my bestie!!

bestie you literally cannot bother me in the asks i don't think it's possible. i love seeing you pop up in them! it makes me so happy <3

if i'm being perfectly honest, i've only seen 3 or 4 episodes of lok, but i do have a vague understanding of the plot and it's such a mess??? some of these things i say could very well be misinformed, so don't hesitate to correct me lol.

honestly i think korra herself is kinda cool. she reminds me a lot of katara tbh because she wants to fight and she's really good at it. her design is cute and i do like her shorter hair as well. i think her little gang is also pretty fun and they all had some good potential. it's also never going to not be funny that korra and asami both date mako and then decide that dating each other is better. also bolin seems like he's a cute little dorky guy, which i whole-heartedly support. they all deserved better characterizations but the overall concepts weren't bad at all.

something about korra that really bothers me is that energybending isn't exclusive to the avatar. it seems pretty dangerous for the average person to use, so i wish that it had just stayed as something the avatar could do to maintain peace when absolutely necessary. it just feels wrong to take a core part of someone's identity. kind of reminds me vaguely of the way our restraints work at the hospital i work at. we consider chemical restraints to be much more severe and intense than like literally tying someone down to the bed because takes their identity and very being away from them. we have some pretty nasty patients here in america and i have never seen us use chemical restraints and my unit has some batshit people. so yeah, something about that whole thing rubs me the wrong way. i think taking away ozai's bending was valid because he had abused it, but that conclusion was far too easy for aang to come to. it is not something that should be taken lightly.

i also hate they solve the airbender crisis by just "now everyone bends" because it just kind of fuels this idea that if you don't have an exceptional skill, you're not as good as other people. like nonbenders have their strengths too??? getting rid of them does not solve the problem, it will only create new weaknesses. becoming too reliant on something that can be taken away is dangerous. we want a functioning society, not a building on the edge of a cliff that will crumble if one little stone chips off.

one of the worst things about korra is how they treat bloodbending though. do you have any idea how fucking useful that could be??? literally life saving. so many zutara fics under like 100k handle bloodbending better than a 4 season show and that's just ridiculous. katara should have been able to hone the skill and find its weaknesses and strengths. it's honestly very ignorant and just shows that they have a very poor understanding of the importance of blood in the body, which i could excuse if they didn't also demonize the skill and treat it as pure evil. i swear part of the point of the oringial show is that no form of bending is inherently good or evil and then they do that??? they don't even have a proper understanding of their own themes.

i don't think i really need to mention that the show is just full of blatant sexism towards katara doesn't get a statute, autonomy, accomplishments, etc. but that happens to all the women??? like where tf is suki??? you're telling me this girl that hijacked an airship and just vanished off the face of the earth??? yeah, i don't think so.

also yue??? she's badass of her own accord--and this a bit of a tangent but yue is a badass in a feminine way. like katara and suki are both feminine and badass, but they're badass bc they'll beat you up in the street if you're out of line. yue is badass in the sense that she is endlessly serene and patient and can calmly take you down without a single rude word. she will not be a pushover even tho she is kind and she is understanding, yet stern with her judgements. she is so cool snd it literally does not make any kind of sense that she is not mentioned or given a statue or any kind of acknowledgment. its literally so ridiculous and infuriating.

toph is treated slightly better, but is still a bad mom and everything surrounding her is just a mess. the fact that the stupid cabbage guy (sorry i don't really like him that much lol) gets his own statue makes my blood boil. like i know it's supposed to be a joke, but it's just a slap in the face because none of our beloved female protagonists get the same respect. it's disgusting.

i really don't even have the strength to get into kata/ang and their children and the damaged relationships and ignored cultural values and all of that, but just know that it's absolutely horrifying that katara had to give so much of the culture and identity she was proud of up for a man. no one should ever have to give up a piece of their identity for their partner.

anyways thanks for the ask bestie <3 you're welcome to drop in anytime i really do love hearing from youuu!!

#anti kataang #anti bryke #lok is a bit of a mess #the writing isn't great tbh #like i just... no #katara deserved better #so did suki #and toph #and sokka #i forgot about him for a sec but he does too #and yue #everyone does really #even aang #he didn't need to be a bad father #but here we are

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valleyfthdolls · 2 years

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You want Sonadow prompts? I'll give you Sonadow prompts:

In the period of time between SA2 and Heroes, Sonic calls up Rouge and asks if any trace of Shadow has been found. He doesn't feel comfortable joining a search investigation and he gives Rouge Shadow's inhibitor rings because he knows that Rouge knew Shadow better than Sonic did. Perhaps during one call Rouge is trying to withhold information that they've found Shadow but she doesn't want to get Sonic's hopes up because Shadow is in critical condition (and with amnesia).

Two touch-starved hogs, neither accustomed to physical contact. After a long while, one of them works up the courage to hold out a hand or offer up a hug. They both hate to depart.

Shadow teaches Sonic how to hone his Chaos powers.

Alternatively, Sonic conditions Shadow so that he can sustain his Super form for longer.

In Sonic Boom, Sonic and Shadow are exes. An in-shambles Shadow decides to destroy the universe over this.

Following his humiliating defeat at the hands of Shadow, Infinite studies Shadow for his weak point to make the best second impression. In watching Shadow's interactions with Sonic, he comes to the conclusion that Shadow is unknowingly crushing on Sonic. He comes to Eggman with a plan to incapacitate Shadow by luring him in with promises of harming Sonic, defeating him, and leaving just enough time for him to watch Sonic's captures in Green Hills. The meeting prior looked something like this:

They play a game of gay chicken... that lasts their entire lives. By the end of the week, they've already gotten married on the beach. They have kids. They decide that whoever dies first is the loser (remember son, dying is gay). This ends up with them beating the shit out of each other in hopes to murder the other that turns in a make-out session.

Shadow feels insecure over Sonic, allegedly "just a guy that loves adventure", being able to match a being created to be the ultimate lifeform. Sonic gives him a pick-me-up by pointing out all the things Shadow surpasses him in.

Once every few months, Shadow's Black Arms genes kick in and he endures behavioral/physical changes for a week. Sonic's there to help him get through it... and experience some of those strange behavioral tics secondhand. (ha ha Shadow be like "biting you biting you biting you" behaviors)

Alright, I'm tapped out for now.

wdym that one abt infinite isn't canon /j

i am looking very intensely at the boom!sonadow one, them as exes is such a headcanon/pos

kinda reminds me of this one lyric from feel better, now i wanna write smn from this but i never finished sonic boom 😭

also that first one 👀👀👀👀

especially thinking about my au, i always depict shadow with intense burn scars from falling from the ark, so like, they find shadow, and he's miraculously alive despite it all, but he's in horrible condition. every exposed inch of skin, which is much more due to a lot of fur being charred and burned off, is covered in swollen, bubbling, reddened 3rd-degree burns, with spots that even look burned black. certain parts (fingertips, toes, ears) are burnt to a crisp and barely look functional, and his burns are leaking fluid and bleeding. he's not even conscious, and while he may be alive now, it's not guaranteed how long he'll stay alive. sonic doesn't care about that, all he wants is for shadow to live now and rouge knows that, but she can't tell him shadow is alive when he's like this, so she just lies and says that they haven't found anything yet augh i love it

the last one reminds me of how i write the werehog and shadow tbh. i have a hc that dark gaia's energy tends to be in high concentrations around the full moon, and under specific circumstances it can cause sonic to transform, leaving shadow with a werewolf bf who likes to lick his face bc shadow thinks its gross

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south-park-meta · 3 years

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why do you think cartman is abusing stan? they get along ok

I think Cartman's abusive towards everyone with Kyle and Butters getting the worst of it. But I have come around more to the way Cartman's abusive to Stan than when I made my initial analysis of their relationship. I said there that Cartman attacked things that mostly Stan's not bothered by, and some of that's true. Like, attacking him for caring about animals isn't something that affects him very often.

But with that said, there IS a core of attacking Stan for (lacking) masculinity and that actually does seem to be something he's anxious about...just not to Cartman directly. Cartman regularly calls him a pussy, gay, weak, seeming like a girl. The Cissy is probably the best example of the name-calling because it encompasses basically all of it

Do you know your girlfriend's going around tellin' everyone that you're gay?! [Stan looks around] Oh yeah! She's got the whole school believin' that she's attracted to girls, but she's dating you! So what does that make you, Stan?! A girl! STAN-AN'S A GIR-RL! You'd better curb your dog, Stan! You'd better curb your dog before people start ripping on you!

He tells Stan he's too weak to control his girlfriend, that he's gay, and that he's a girl all at once. Stan actually has a reaction (looking around, looking nervous, and he does end up talking to his dad and Principal Victoria. Cartman GOT a reaction, just not one he wanted).

The thing is, Stan's masculinity IS the thing he's most defensive of, and is his 'weak point' in relation to Kyle being Jewish, Kenny being poor, Butters being naive. He gets nervous about seeming gay and has to overcome it. He does get ripped on/ name-called/dismissed for not being manly enough or seeming gay by both his uncle, who he looks up to, and his dad, who he does (for most of the show) have a mutually loving relationship with. MOST of the 'Stan has a moment of character growth in the way of accepting who he is' comes down to him being okay with shirking stereotypical masculinity. Cartman is a master at honing in on weaknesses and he ABSOLUTELY has Stan's down.

So, then, why doesn't Cartman really tear the shit out of him more?

The thing is that Stan doesn't rise to the bait in angry outbursts. Kyle does. Kenny does, sometimes, too. Butters is specifically dismissed as a Kyle punching bag replacement because he doesn't. But Cartman also can't just casually abuse him constantly the way he does Butters, or put Stan's dick in his mouth while he sleeps, or give him a poop moustache, because Stan would up and leave the friendship, or actually physically beat him up. It has to be a verbal or emotional, non-physical attack. Stan doesn't get ripped on by Cartman more because he doesn't tend to take the bait in a way that would be fun and would let Cartman continue to feed off of it and really tear him to pieces.

So why doesn't Stan take the bait? Is he not upset by it?

The thing is he DOES get upset about this kind of thing. He just tends not to confront it directly. Instead he tends to want to compensate for the accusations. He tries to force Sparky to be straight. He doesn't play along at the wild west show because Wendy's there. He shoots and kills Skuzzlebutt. He becomes hypercritical of Gary and chews him out for Mormonism. And in each and every one of these cases, the best choice is consistently for him not to worry about seeming like anything except what he is. I think The Cissy is a step forward for him in, instead of outright denying who he is, he just sits down and questions it instead. Personally I think there hasn't been another comment on it since he came to the conclusion he is a boy (I know there're nb headcanons for him and I won't pick at it too much because I don't think it runs contrary to his character per se, I just don't agree with it. I see it as more of another masculinity introspection than really specifically a gender one), but I think it's a step forward for his character growth. He has multiple times gone through an arc of 'hide who you are, then realize who you are is really an asset', and sometimes that gets to a point of 'fuck what people think' but often it just kind of is what it is and he doesn't really do anything with it. He still cares about not being manly enough, and often the lesson of it is 'yeah you ARE kind of a pussy but it's fine, people will like you anyway, or being a pussy is beneficial to helping people'. While the recent seasons have made Stan more depressed and miserable, he's also FINALLY starting to get to a point of-- instead of worrying what makes other people like him, what makes him an asset to other people-- 'What makes me like myself? What makes me who I am?'

ANYWAY with all that said, the reason Cartman doesn't get much out of moments like this is that Stan often doesn't have a reaction, period. Sometimes it's because he probably literally doesn't care. He doesn't always value Cartman's opinion, and he does seem able to let a lot of comments go as just being bullshit. The other thing is that if it actually gets to the point of GETTING a reaction, it's not one that would be fun for Cartman. Literally the only thing that's ever come out of Stan reacting to the insecurity that Cartman harps on (whether because of Cartman or not) is that he either suppresses or questions it, and decides he likes himself more as he was to start with. Like he very consistently has improved himself through being criticized on this very point.

So does he have a point that Cartman can hurt him on?

Absolutely, and that point is Kyle.

Stan consistently has stronger, more hurt, more violent reactions to Cartman when it's Kyle that Cartman's going after. When Cartman makes a comment that Kyle's going to die, Stan tells him not to say things like that (even though people regularly die or talk about death around them). When Cartman's treating Kyle unfairly and Kyle can't do anything about it himself, Stan rights it. Even when Stan and Kyle aren't getting along, multiple seasons after Stan told Kyle that he was destroying the last thread of friendship they had left by siding with Cartman in the GOT arc, he still takes tit-for-tat revenge on Cartman in Band in China for Kyle's sake.

The way to get Kyle to respond in a fun way is for Cartman to attack Kyle.

The way to get Stan to respond in a fun way is for Cartman to attack Kyle.

I think it's noteworthy that when Cartman checks out on the 'broship' it's after Stan has checked out on Kyle, and pointedly stayed out of Kyle's fight with Cartman even after Kyle asked him to get involved with it. It's not worth keeping Stan tied in to the group because he's not coming to Kyle's defense, so there's no fun to be had in Stan hanging around. It's ALSO noteworthy that Kyle is equally blindsided by both of them.

But, okay, Cartman is nice to Stan sometimes. He's probably nicer to him than he is pretty much any other character. I think Cartman was playing a balancing act and lost.

He wants Stan and Kyle to be friends, because their friendship is important to get them both riled up. But he wants himself to be the most important to both of them, and that means he HAS to knock them down a peg in each other's opinions. They need to be friends with each other, good enough friends that Stan wants to defend Kyle when Cartman's mean to him and Kyle can't defend himself. It's no fun if Kyle's literally defenseless and Cartman gets jack for a reaction. But they have to be best friends with Cartman, because Cartman has a massive ego. This is a pretty damn hard line to walk.

But here are some nice things that Cartman's done for Stan:

-He came and hung out with him on Tegridy, and had solo activities bonding with him through board games and things like that.

-He helped Stan with the drug ring in Hummels and Heroin

-He saved the pangolin

The first two things are a clear spit in Kyle's face. Kyle is the core group who seems most disconnected from what's going on on Tegridy. Cartman is very clearly trying to take Kyle's place as Stan's go-to. Around(ish, keeping in mind the show's internal timeline) the same time, through the GOT arc, he is focusing his attention on bonding with Kyle.

Likewise, Kyle tells Stan outright he's not going to help with the Hummels problem in the second case. Cartman gets involved because Stan says he 'needs' him. He's willing to help because it puts him in direct competition with Kyle; he's helping Stan when Kyle told him to figure it out himself. He is weasling in on the best friend role.

In the last case, I think it's because he still wanted the 'broship' to work, and like I said I think he did up until Stan gave up on his friendship with Kyle. Stan's having a complete mental breakdown, which would cause issues and not be enjoyable on Cartman's end, so he'll give him a bone and let him maintain his sanity so Cartman can keep having fun pitting Stan and Kyle against each other while being besties with them both. He just flew too close to the sun and lost with it because Stan was teetering on the edge for the friendship since YGO and the next episode pushed him over.

In conclusion, Cartman's actions with Stan are 100% meant to manipulate him and emotionally destroy him. It just happens that Stan takes attacks on himself pretty internally and might even come out stronger for it. So for the most part if everything else is going fine, he's a tough nut to crack. The stuff that really fucks him up and tears him apart mentally is attacking Kyle, or attacking his friendship with Kyle.

#long post

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veronicamarsconfessions · 3 years

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Is Rob Thomas Jealous of Taylor Sheridan’s Success?

Remember when Taylor Sheridan was nominated for an Oscar for ‘Hell Or High Water’? Although Rob Thomas did congratulate him for his nomination, some people detected some sarcastic undertone within his tweet. Don’t know whether they are friends in real life or not, but many suspected that RT was a bit envious that TS was nominated for Best Writing.

Before he was famous as a great screenwriter who also wrote the acclaimed ‘Sicario’ franchise, he appeared as a recurring character Danny Boyd in VMars. You may remember Danny Boyd; one of the cousins of the Fitzpatrick and specifically Liam’s right-hand man. He also played the great Sheriff/Deputy Chief Hale from Sons of Anarchy. After many stints as recurring characters in many shows, he started to write a screenplay. Sicario is a film about Cartel hitmen and Narcos. Very well written and made, and it made him a household name.

This is why fans took notice when Rob started to inserted many Narcos-style storylines about a cartel hitman in Neptune (season 4 VMars). The plot was weak and seemed out of place from the whole VMars vibe. Rob wanted to put every ingredient that made Cartel drama, Noir, Comedy, and Romance into this one miniseries, he forgot about the characters and what made it good in the first place. He wanted to be taken as a “serious” writer so much, he forgot that he was using an existing show with a different vibe and insisted that the show was matured. He wanted the show to be Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, Sons of Anarchy, Sicario... but he ended up using all the tropes into this blender and the result is a mess. It’s like making ice cream but then he decided to add some onions just to spice things up.

Rob is well known to ‘borrow’ many plots and storylines from his favorite movies into his shows. He claims that it’s more of a homage. But when every episode of his shows is some kind of homage of something, it bears a question of whether he could write an original story or not.

Taylor Sheridan’s Sicario was less about the hitmen plot but more about the characters. Many shows like Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, and many more are about the characters and how much they are written brilliantly. Fans love the shows not just because of the plots (although they are good), but because of the characters. Fans care about them and want to see more of them. The plots are there to accompany them, not the other way around.

Rob thinks to get taken seriously is to have all those plots into one giant bowl. He forgot about the characters; therefore he forgot what made the show brilliant. He forgot (or ignore) why the show was great; it was all about the characters. And the fact that he is also jealous (based on his tweets back then) about his fellow creators, kinda cemented the idea that he is stuck in an old school writing that he is accustomed to and not liking the idea that other writers from his generation are more successful and more acclaimed than him.

What he said about Taylor Sheridan made people frown. He said, “Hey remember this guy who played this loser Danny Boyd?” (Paraphrasing, of course) and then he posted an unflattering picture of the character. “I made him!” I think many fans pointed out on Twitter that he was only joking, but could feel the jealousy seeping through the tweet.

When Jessica Chastain was nominated for an Oscar, he also tweeted, “I am assuming Jessica Chastain will thank me profusely in her acceptance speech tonight. Veronica Mars made her career!” Fans of Chastain (who didn’t know who he was and thought that he was the singer of Matchbox 20) immediately roasted him on Twitter, calling him out, and got angry because this man claiming that her success was because of him. He immediately said that he was only joking and that he was proud of her, that an Oscar nominee used to be on his show.

But this has become a pattern, that when someone he knew suddenly become successful, he would joke that they should thank him. Fans were surprised that he never said anything about Tessa Thompson’s success and soaring career when he was on Twitter, but glad that he didn’t. The only actors that always praising Tessa Thompson are Percy Daggs III, Erica Gimpel, Francis Capra, Jason Dohring, and Kyle Gallner. Fans never heard Rob Thomas said anything about her, but maybe that was a good thing. Tessa Thompson mentioned that she had a bad experience on the set of VMars because of the way they treated her character and the fact that they straightened her curly hair so it wouldn't look “ghetto”, and the fact that Rob wrote her character as a punching bag.

Back to Taylor Sheridan, the man is now known as a successful writer-director who directed “Wind River”, a movie about the rape and murder of a Native American girl on tribal lands, and is meant to provoke conversation about the exploitation experienced by indigenous women. When the movie was bought by The Weinstein Company, Taylor Sheridan threatened to destroy the movie after Harvey Weinstein's scandals. “I said, if my movie’s going to die, I’ll be the one to kill it,” Sheridan said in an interview. “I will take my name off it, and publicly denounce it. I would have said, don’t go see this movie, don’t rent it, don’t watch it. If he was going to remain publicly attached if he was going to benefit from a film highlighting the atrocity he perpetrated? No.” He also demanded that the proceeds from the movie would be given to charity and women’s organizations.

He was ready to nuke his own movie before letting it live on with Weinstein branding. Some of us always pondered... Whether Rob would even do the same thing (denounce his movie, giving the film money to charity, etc)? Judging by his own scandalous iZombie tv show when Robert Knepper guest-starred in the show it seems he wouldn't nor care. He never publicly comment about Robert Knepper and his rape allegations. The only people who commented were the actors like Rahul Kohli, Malcolm Goodwin, Robert Buckley, and Rose McIver. Maybe the people (Rob and Diane) who write rape in every show as plot devices but not as raising awareness are not really feminists as they claimed to be.

Taylor Sheridan might not be the next great screenwriter; occasionally his works are problematic. He is this manly Marlboro man writer who writes about men even when he writes about feminist stuff. His female characters sometimes are white and pretty with the tendency of damsel in distress or white saviors. But at least he is trying to hone his skill to be a better writer. We will see more about his future in interest. In conclusion, Taylor Sheridan, the glorified extra from Veronica Mars probably deserves those recognitions. Rob Thomas can steam.

#Taylor Sheridan #Rob Thomas #Veronica Mars #Sicario #Sons of Anarchy #tv #film

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lakemojave · 4 years

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Supergiant Games: Same Bones, Different Skeletons

I just finished a retrospective of all 4 games by Supergiant on my twitch channel, and I have a few thoughts I wanna connect and questions I wanna explore. My love for these games is real strong and i could write a whole essay just gushing about them, but I wanna give some thought to what makes them so compelling: not just to me, but to damn near everyone I’ve talked to on their discord who feels the same. I myself rank Bastion among my favorite games ever, and Hades is climbing that list at a clip. And even though I could take or leave Transistor or Pyre, they keep pulling me back.

But I could talk a whole lot about each game’s appeal and waste a lot of time. I’ve gushed enough to my friends about how Bastion and Pyre’s rugged, apocalyptic atmospheres draw me in with their incredible vibrance to contrast. I could talk about how Ashley Barrett’s vocal tracks carry Transistor on their shoulders, or what makes Hades so much goddamn fun that the game doesn’t really need to be much else. But I realize that if the Supergiant library is so universally appealing to me, there must be some sort of connective tissue between them--some sort of fundamental similarity that makes them work. After thinking about it for more than five minutes, it turns out there are many; some are pretty obvious, and some less so. This brings me to the conclusion that the Supergiant library, with its four wildly distinct and different games, still follow a noticeable formula--one that is flexible enough to allow such completely different games.

Game Design

The Supergiant library are all essentially top down action rpgs, Transistor having the most elements of the genre. This is still a pretty weak connection, given how different they all play from each other. The only two that have much overlap in the most basic sense are Bastion and Hades, with the same general fast paced, real time combat. On closer examination, the two games have enough differences in the variety of mechanics at play, (Bastion with its multiple weapon slots and a shield, Hades with its sheer number of commands) that even they are hard to compare.

There are, however, several mechanics that the library loves to use. The first that comes to mind are the difficulty conditions: idols in Bastion, limiters in Transistor, titan stars in Pyre, and the pact of punishment--and arguably Chaos boons as well--in Hades. Their function is simple: increase your challenge for a little extra reward. Bastion and Pyre go the extra mile by fixing in world building elements to this mechanic; Bastion’s idols inform about the game’s pantheon, while Pyre informs about its, well, evil pantheon. The use of these conditions is indicative of Supergiant’s game design philosophy as a whole--you, the player, can make the game as hard or easy as it takes for you to have fun. The inclusion of infinite lives in Bastion or god mode or hell mode in Hades further builds on this point. This library is designed for all sorts of audiences, whether they want to be challenged by their games or simply immersed in the story.

Another repeating mechanic in these games are the use of challenge rooms, which started in Bastion as the training grounds and, to a lesser extent, Who Knows Where. In Transistor they are the sandbox test rooms, and in Pyre they are the beyonder crystal’s scribe trials. They appear in Hades a little more ambiguously; the infernal troves or Erebus rooms are not quite the same, but they serve a similar function. This function is a momentary break from the gameplay loop for a little extra reward, much like the previously discussed conditions. Transistor and Hades’ challenge rooms offer relatively negligible rewards; the sandbox rooms simply offer xp and unlock tracks for the jukebox, while the Erebus tiles offer double the reward for any normal tile. Bastion and Pyre go the extra mile by giving specific, long term rewards for their challenges. In Bastion’s training grounds, the Kid earns weapon specific abilities that are among the game’s most powerful; in Pyre’s scribe trials, exiles can earn character specific talismans that feed their specialization. For the most part, these rooms give the player a low stakes opportunity to practice, hone their preferred playstyle, and reward the effort, all while being completely optional.

Akin to these breaks in the game loop are designated resting areas/hub worlds. The Bastion, the Sandbox, the Blackwagon, and the House of Hades each offer a moment to interact with characters and lore, goof around with the environment, buy permanent upgrades, or just take a break. Transistor utilizes this function the least of the library, since it never once requires the player to enter the space. Pyre utilizes it the most since it has the most breaks in both frequency and number. In a way, this decision is both a game design and storytelling choice. Between all four games, perhaps excluding Transistor, this is where the majority of story beats take place. It is where the player can read up on some fresh lore or meet the ever growing cast of characters, and eventually grow to cherish them (as I often do playing this library). Without little breaks like these, the climactic or world/story shaking events that take place out in the actual playable space have no impact or narrative weight. The fact that all these sort of interactions are completely voluntary also rewards the player in the storytelling sense; by choosing to engage with the figures of the story rather than having that choice decided for them, the player feels as though they themselves have agency in the story unfolding.

Style

Perhaps the most distinct part of the Supergiant library, (and perhaps what I personally love most about it) is its aesthetics. There are few games that look, feel, and sound the way these games do. Yet, the four of them hardly resemble each other. Bastion is a rugged, frontier-esque sci fi apocalypse, Transistor is a sleek, cyberpunk apocalypse, Pyre is a high fantasy purgatory space, and Hades is simply stylized Greek mythology. It is a shock to remember, then, that these four games are all designed by the same artistic team.

I confess I don’t know much about art, so I don’t have anything too profound to say about Jen Zee’s art style, besides that I like it a lot. It is also worth noting that despite her spearheading art and character design for the whole library, each game still looks visually distinct, and not just in their overall aesthetics. Take the character design of the library, for instance. Bastion’s human figures tend to be short, stocky, with exaggerated facial features. Their colors are highly saturated, with a soft, almost blurry quality that gives a level of warmth to the fatalistic atmosphere. Transistor’s characters, barring Red, tend to be based around palettes centered around a single color, such as the Camerata red and the spectrum of the function character profiles. Pyre is the first of the library to use talking portraits, which contrast robed figures with stark color palettes and simple designs with unrobed figures with much noisier details. Hades is easily the most distinct of all four, using simple colors and thick outlines on all its characters. The most consistent feature of all their designs, as usual, is how wildly different they are. For Hades, Zee makes sure that characters only look alike in any way if they have some relation to each other, such as the Furies, Achilles and Patroclus, or Zagreus and his parents. On the whole, the versatility and variety in the character design is impeccable.

What I most enjoy about these games is Darren Korb’s soundtracks, which continue to vary wildly. From the closet-recorded Bastion soundtrack to the whole two and a half Hades score, Korb’s scoring keeps improving and changing in the 10 years Supergiant has operated. His music, which adds and changes motifs as each game progresses, contributes to the atmosphere just as much as the visuals do. Whenever he teams up with Ashley Barret to add vocal tracks to certain parts of the game, they always manage to place them at critical narrative or emotional beats, turning them into the games’ most memorable moments. The team goes one step further every game by incorporating a musician or source of music into each game, giving the music just as much character as the one performing it. It also sneaks its way into the aforementioned hub worlds by providing the player a means to play their favorite tracks whenever they want (except in Hades, where they have to pay in game for that privilege). In essence, Korb makes sure to give each game a distinct feel through its music, but familiar enough to connect the library in the player’s mind.

Just as Supergiant gets so much mileage from Korb and Zee alike, they also manage time and time again to make use of Logan Cunningham’s top notch voice over work. Originally the sole voice actor at Supergiant Games, Cunningham continued on from famously narrating Bastion as Rucks to remaining a ubiquitous voice throughout the library. His role as the Transistor in the game proper drives the emotional core of that game, and his role as the Voice/Archjustice proves to be a solidly effective, yet distant antagonist. In Hades, his roles are somewhat overshadowed by Korb’s performance as Zagreus, (which I’m still blown away he still had time to do) but his performance as Lord Hades is still excellent. Supergiant also uses Cunningham in Hades to sort of satirize how often he narrates for them by casting him as the narrating Old Man, then allowing Zagreus to break the fourth wall and acknowledge him. It is as if the team at Supergiant knows how much they use the same stylistic team, then mocking that same choice.

To other studios: learn from Supergiant

I’m running out of things to say and my ball of yarn that connects all these newspapers and polaroids on my wall is running thin. I would talk more about Supergiant really knows how to end a game and frequently does so in similar ways, or that their library is a masterclass in character-driven stories, but this little essay is long enough.

Instead, I wanna talk about how Supergiant does something right which so many AAA developers and publishers don’t seem to understand. To contrast with the Supergiant library, consider Assassin’s Creed, another franchise I have spent an embarrassing amount of time playing. This franchise releases a game almost every year, and in my experience, when a company does this, you tend to get the same pig with a different paint. From the original Assassin’s Creed to their most recent release, Assassin’s Creed Odyssey, the differences seem to be night and day. Combat and free running are far more complex than they once were, rpg elements to story and gameplay have been introduced, composers, writers, voice actors, and cast members have changed with each release, and the sheer size of the game has become staggering. Yet, in the 13 years and 11 main releases in the game’s history, (plus spinoffs) any change has not only felt incremental over time, but fundamentally insignificant to the skeleton of the game. Assassin’s Creed 1 and 2 play and feel differently, but the differences are subtle. The bones are different, but every year they assemble to form a vaguely Assassin’s Creed shaped thing. People who play games tend to hate this and frequently berate companies for this practice; Bethesda and GameFreak receive the same criticism that their games are so formulaic that their new releases might as well be carbon copies of the ones before it.

Yet, Supergiant Games, with its four games over ten years, has used essentially the same team and building blocks to make games that can hardly be considered interchangeable. Whether its the passion of this humble little indie studio or the sheer talent of this team, Supergiant takes the same pile of bones and assembles them in a different shape each time with care and attention. They are proof that a formula doesn’t need to be tweaked or altered or given a different coat of paint in order to be accepted; instead the formula needs versatility, the means to produce a fresh result each time. It also works best when we adore the result every time.

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #got shit to say #bastion #transistor #pyre #hades #hades game #supergiant games #supergiant tag

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sigmalied · 4 years

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THOBM S1:E4

While I’m here I’d like to obnoxiously discuss why Episode 4 of Bly Manor is my favorite, regarding the portrayal of Dani’s inner struggle with her sexuality, through a point-by-point chronological analysis.

Part 1: First Flashback

The episode opens with a flashback to Dani’s childhood, revealing the owner of the glasses as Eddie. Dani says she needs to go home, but Eddie insists she stays. At this point, persuading her to stay is relatively innocent. Some day, it won’t be.

We then leap to the moments before Dani and Eddie’s rehearsal dinner. Eddie asks if she’s ready, and Dani hesitates, giving a weak “I think so,” which Eddie brushes off without much concern, perhaps chalking it up to stage fright.

Dani does not speak at the rehearsal, but Eddie does. In his speech, he reveals that Dani had to dare him to kiss her, presumably because she couldn’t do it herself. He calls her “Danielle”, never “Dani”. Additionally, Eddie spent their adolescence and early adulthood asking Dani to marry him, each time receiving a “no” until Dani finally caved in. Why Eddie is so surprised about being dumped later on is beyond me.

Eddie’s mom, Judy, catches Dani escaping the dance floor and gives Dani her old wedding dress. Dani holds the dress in front of herself before a mirror and Judy asks her to say, “Good morning, Mrs. O’Mara,” in reference to both the first time she met Dani, and Dani’s wedding day when that will also become her name, too.

During this segment, both Eddie and Judy insist that Dani knows what she wants. Judy even encourages her to speak her mind. This puts some responsibility on Dani for her predicament, and it’s not entirely undue. Dani is passive. She is trapped, yes, but she has also taken no measures toward freeing herself.

Part 2: Day of the Funeral

The flashback ends and Dani’s in her room at Bly, getting ready for Owen’s mom’s funeral. The timing of Dani remembering her impending wedding on the day of a FUNERAL is incredibly telling, as is the obvious link between Judy’s dress and Dani’s only black one.

Jamie comes in, and when Dani expresses her reservations Jamie doesn’t pressure her to go if she’s not comfortable doing so. Jamie’s, “I don’t need you to be my date to Owen’s mom’s funeral” suggests they’ve discussed going together, probably sometime that same morning, but Jamie doesn’t trap her in that arrangement. She readily gives Dani a way out and doesn’t shame her about it. (Compare to Eddie and Dani before the rehearsal).

Dani asks Jamie to help her out of the black dress (just the zipper!). The point of this isn’t merely sexual tension, it’s also symbolic of Jamie freeing Dani from a life she equates with death. Eddie’s specter shows up, right on schedule, to guilt Dani for her intimacy with Jamie.

Part 3: The Kitchen & Dani’s Nervous Episode

Jamie returns from the funeral to find Hannah, Dani, and the kids preparing supper in the kitchen. Jamie eerily foreshadows the struggle she and Dani will face in their future relationship, as well as her own character development, when she discusses care for someone with a terminal condition.

Jamie catches Dani staring at her. Dani averts her gaze but keeps glancing back even as she approaches the kitchen sink. Eddie makes an appearance, as expected, and it thoroughly rattles Dani because his form has become physical as he places his hands on her hips. (It may be somewhat of a stretch, but the physicality of Eddie might imply that Dani's private thoughts toward Jamie were trending toward the ‘physical’). She excuses herself in a panic; it’s all coming to a head because she’s starting to realize what this means for herself.

Part 4: Second Flashback

Dani’s getting Judy’s old wedding dress fitted. Judy and her own mother watch. For such a short scene, this one is DENSE. Allow me to draw your attention to a few spicy quotes: “Luckily, Danielle does not share my taste in men.” - Dani’s mother. “Well, lucky for Edmund; he’s the lucky one in this equation...” - Judy. “Danielle’s father helped pick [my dress] out, and look how THAT turned out.” - Dani’s mother. Everything here has double meaning. From the obvious implication that Dani doesn’t have a taste in men at all, to the more subtler “THAT” referring to both Dani’s mom’s bad marriage and how Dani ‘turned out’ (to be non-heterosexual).

The tailor flirts with Dani. Or seems to. Either way, Dani hones in on it; how she compliments her shoulders, gives her a smile, lets a hand linger on her lower back. Dani sees their reflections together in the mirror.

When Dani resurfaces from this flashback she looks solemn, even grim, with realization. She’s still looking at Jamie, but now she understands why.

Part 5: Third Flashback & The Bonfire

Dani joins Jamie, Owen, and Hannah for a bonfire outside. She spaces out and recalls the night Eddie died. They went to dinner that night. Dani nervously bites her fingernails and Eddie says, “Hey, easy. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Dani replies, “I’m sorry. I keep trying to stop.” Some more subtext there. It should also be pointed out that Eddie doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, or if she’s okay. He just assumes it’s the stress of planning their wedding. Little does he know, Dani’s about to break up with him. She almost doesn’t, at first. She tip-toes around it. “I thought I wanted it. I wanted to want it... [there’s] so many people to let down...” Then Eddie says, “For a second it almost sounded like you didn’t want to get married at all,” and the opportunity is finally right in front her, put in words, because she hasn’t been able to do it herself.

They talk in the car. Dani says she didn’t want to hurt anyone, because she still loves Eddie, just not like that. “And it’s just what we were doing... If I could just stick it out, eventually I would feel how I was supposed to.” They’ve been physically intimate, but Dani’s been unable to feel any emotional connection.

Angry and hurt, Eddie exits the car, gets hit by a truck, and dies. This is the source of the guilt that haunts Dani. She blames everything on herself. If she had just married him, or had the guts to be truthful about herself earlier, Eddie would still be alive. This is her flawed logic, and it sabotages her every time she tries to move forward. She sees Eddie in reflections because she can’t bear to confront herself.

Back at the bonfire, they toast the dead. Jamie toasts the late Wingraves. Dani, too, surprisingly. What’s important is that she praises who Dani is: “a bit of a weirdo, but stronger than she thinks”. It’s brief, but significant when you contrast it with Eddie’s speech at the dinner rehearsal, where he gives no real indication that he even knows who Dani is. To him, Dani is Danielle, “this amazing, beautiful girl” and while those are nice things to say, he speaks nothing of Dani’s character.

Part 6: The Greenhouse

Dani and Jamie sneak away to the greenhouse, where Dani elaborates about her fiance and confesses how she still ‘sees’ him. Jamie doesn’t say she’s crazy, instead focusing on what matters: that Dani’s surviving. Jamie knows grief and trauma. She knows how it can fuck people up in different ways, from first-hand experience. It’s acceptance and the peace of being heard and seen that compels Dani to kiss her. She doesn’t have to dare Jamie, she doesn’t passively wait for it to happen, no, she takes the initiative to make a move first because for the first time possibly ever, Dani knows what she wants. But her guilt’s still there. It ruins the moment when she sees Eddie again.

Part 7: Drunk Dani Putting the Past to Rest

After drinking courage into herself and nearly getting fucking bodied by Viola on her way out, Dani tosses Eddie’s glasses into the bonfire and confronts his ghost a final time. She knows what she wants, but she first needs to make peace with the past and with herself.

In conclusion: This episode was a true delight from a critical point of view. Dani’s journey from realization to self-acceptance was filled with subtlety and heart the whole way through and I had such a good time picking out the parallels, subtext, and symbolism. I know S1:E9 is probably more popular, because yeah, that all happened, but S1:E4 was so well-written, personally relevant, and teeming with storytelling devices that the writer in me could not for a second consider any other entry as my favorite episode of the season.

#thobm #thobm spoilers #dani clayton #long post

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stellar-imagines · 5 years

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SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝matching quirks.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Todoroki Shouto ]

「Scenario of Todoroki with a reader that has a quirk similar to his, but they controls the elements earth and air where they’re both crushing on each other.」

There were times where Aizawa-sensei lets his students do whatever they wanted during Hero Studies. He gave everyone the opportunity to hone their skills on their own. He would still be around, supervising and paying close attention to what you were all up to. And today was one of the days where you were allowed to do as you please. You and Uraraka were having a competition against each other. Uraraka had both of her fists clenched together, floating steadily in the air. On the other hand, you had your attention focused on the air that kept you in the air. After a while, Uraraka released her quirk and landed on the ground with her two feet.

"Damn! I didn't manage to hold for that long!" the brunette let out a frustrated groan while you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, a small giggle escaping your lips as you rested your hand on your hip.

"I guess it's another victory for me." you beamed.

"Next time I'll last longer than you, [First Name]-chan!" Uraraka swore.

"What's going on here?"

Iida, Midoriya and Todoroki who were training with each other, slowly walked over to you and Uraraka. The last bit of wind disappeared at your command and you shifted your gaze towards the three boys. You smoothed out your hair which was a bit messed up from the usage of your quirk.

"We were trying to see who'll last longer in the air with our quirk. And I won." you threw a peace sign at the boys. The boys seemed a bit amazed with your vast improvement. Iida congratulated you, bringing up the fact that he had became faster. Both you and Iida were quite competitive when it comes to speed, you often use wind to propel yourself to surpass the speed of normal humans.

"Amazing! Now that you're able to give yourself the ability to float and move in the air then you'd be able to participate in mid-air battles! As you're able to control wind or air at will then you'd be able to reduce air resistance that makes your practically invincible in air. There's a ton of possibilities you can—" Midoriya was more enthusiastic.

"Deku-kun, you're to yourself again." Uraraka tapped the green haired boy who grew flustered, apologizing for being weird. You watched as Iida scolded Midoriya from getting too carried away while Uraraka laughed. While you stayed at the sidelines, watching the three converse with one another, you noticed Todoroki who shuffled closer towards you.

"You improved a lot, [Last Name]." you bi-color haired classmate was the first one to break the silence between the two of you. Shifting nervously on your spot, you avoided looking at him, knowing that you'd falter from seeing his handsome profile and end up embarrassing yourself.

"No, I'm nowhere near you level yet. Unlike you, I'm still not confident with using my earth manipulating abilities." you replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck with a light blush dusting your cheeks.

Even though Todoroki and you were classmates, you were only close because you're best friends with Uraraka who often dragged you to join with Midoriya, Todoroki and Iida. Forming friendship with Midoriya and Iida was easy but when it comes to Todoroki, it was a bit difficult. Maybe it was because of his godly handsome looks that never failed to fluster you. Or maybe it's the cool attitude he has when talking to anyone? Whatever the reason was, you doubt your own ability to talk to Todoroki for more than 5 minutes.

And perhaps, because of the way you act around the bi-color haired male, Uraraka was able to point out the fact that you have a crush on Todoroki. In addition, your excessive and exaggerated denying about your feelings didn't convince your brown haired friend. It was kind of obvious, not only to Uraraka but to your other classmates except for Todoroki himself. But of course, you're quite oblivious yourself. It was quite obvious to everyone that Todoroki likes you. They can see it, Todoroki gives you more attention, different from how he treats others.

"Stop bringing yourself down, [Last Name]." hearing his sincere tone made you turn to him. You were able to properly have a look at what kind of expression Todoroki was making.

"I mean what I say. You have improved a lot. Let's train together some day, maybe we can learn something from each other." he offered.

“A-Are you sure you’re okay with me?” you muttered.

“Yes, you’re a strong individual. Learning from you will be a great experience for me.” Todoroki nodded.

“Thank you.” you smiled nervously at the bi-color haired male who smiled in return, a blush dusting his cheeks as he did so. He didn’t want to say it out loud, the fact that he said this was so that he can spend some more time with you. In other words, Todoroki was just making excuses but he wasn’t lying.

"So, [First Name]! Can you carry people!?" Ashido skipped over to your side.

"I haven't tried yet but maybe I'll try next time!"

"That aside, spar with me! I'll get through your thick wall of rocks this time!" your pink haired friend grabbed your arm and began dragging you towards an empty part of the training field.

After classes ended, you headed straight to the dorms to rest. Even though it was a day off tomorrow, there were still a few things that needed to be done. For instance, that English essay Present Mic gave and then the math problems Ectoplasm gave your class. The instant you finished showering, you were holed up in your room, doing whatever homework was given to you. Just minutes before the clock hit 11, you decided to go to the common area to make a snack for yourself. 'Maybe I still have some pudding in the fridge.' you had thought to yourself as you stepped out of the elevator.

At that moment, you spotted Todoroki laying down on the couch. It was a bit hard to see from the elevator but you could tell that it was Todoroki from the two-toned hair color. The moment you reached the couch, you came to realize that your classmate was actually sleeping. 'He fell asleep!' you exclaimed to yourself, glancing around the dimly lit common area to find that there's no one but you and Todoroki. You walked past the couch, and made a beeline towards the refrigerator. There wasn't much in the fridge but you spotted a small cup of pudding. You pulled it out and slowly closed the fridge door.

Seeing Todoroki sleep so peacefully made you a bit weak and you didn't have the heart to wake him up when he looked so comfortable sleeping there. He was dressed warmly too, a turtle neck and sports pants but despite all that, he should be sleeping in his own room. You decided to stay around before going back to your room. You fiddled around with your phone while eating the cup of pudding. Occasionally, you'd glance at Todoroki to see if he's awake or not. 'Maybe I should bring a blanket.' you said to yourself, leaving the common area to grab a blanket to keep Todoroki warm.

"Oh, [First Name]? What are you doing up so late? Are you planning to go to the common area?" Hagakure asked.

"Y-Yeah! Just gonna do a bit of studying before I sleep!" you replied nervously before jogging off. The invisible girl took a few moments to think about your weird behavior.

Much to your surprise, Todoroki was still asleep. You slowly walked over and crouched down in front of the sleeping boy. Upon closer inspection, you were able to see his features. His eyes were closed in a relaxed manner which was an indication that he's having a pleasant dream. His breathing was slow yet steady and the way his hair frames his face makes him unbelievably handsome. You felt your face growing a bit red from embarrassment.

"What the hell am I doing, staring at him like this?! I'm like a creepy stalker." you muttered lowly to yourself.

"[Last Name]?"

Immediately, your muttering ceased and your eyes made contact with grey and blue. You squeaked in surprise, moving back instinctively moving back to create distance between the two of you. A faint blush graced your cheeks as you stared at your lap, avoiding your classmate's gaze.

"Can you come closer a bit?" his voice was heavy with sleep and tiredness.

"Why?" Despite feeling a bit nervous and embarrassed, you shifted closer until you were face to face with him. When he grabbed hold of your hand, you were beyond shocked. Despite protesting about your hands being dirty, he held your hand in his gently. When you felt your hand in his hair, you had the urge to pet him like a dog. Todoroki Shouto’s hair was unbelievably soft and smooth! He leand into your touch as you gently rubbed his scalp, his eyes slowly closing.

Experimentally, you scratch the base of his hair which was near his neck and he lets out a pleased hum.

”Feels nice.....” he hummed, a soft smile gracing his face before he fell asleep again.

How was it possible that a simple expression from him made you feel this much? Your heart was racing and your face was really hot. In a split second, you fell in love with him all over again. ‘Just for a while.’ you told yourself as you petted Todoroki’s hair with a dumb, love struck look on your face.

“Your hands are so soft and warm. I really like it.”

On that night, you came to a conclusion.

Sleepy Todoroki is bad for your heart.

Total: 1627 words Published: 27.2.2020

Thank you for requesting! *｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و*｡ Trying to clear our inbox before the end of February. Sorry to make you wait for so long, anon! Hope you liked it. ― author Hibiki/Lou

Thank you for requesting! Lou is already on her break while mine is just right around the corner. I do feel bad for her because she’s working on all the remaining requests. That being said, I’m still doing my best to help type a bit. ― author Natsuki

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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maulsscream · 4 years

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(gif by obimauls)

MUTUAL TEMPTATION Maul x Ahsoka

This was just going to be a M fic but y’all are making me write another E because the muzzle has usyou feeling things. I 100% agree. Watch me and my thirst traps delivering another banger. Bless @mandalora for the newest addition to the thirst pile.

Please assume Maul had his legs chopped off above the knees for obvious reasons. It’s not rated E for nothing loves.

Disclaimer: as I’ve stated before please assume that Ahsoka is a fully grown adult woman in all my fics. Thanks.

SUMMARY Rated E - 1,815 words

Maul is a lot more agreeable when he’s tied up and gagged. Ahsoka can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure what her game plan is. She decides to make him wonder some more.

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Her lightsaber was pointed down at his jugular as Maul sat with his arms locked behind him back, tied up to his elbows by some sort of device from another time. His mouth was clamped shut by the muzzle he had been fitted with on Mandalore. Truly the Mandalorians had a taste for the eccentrics and the barbaric. It was all a little overboard, even for him. The binding of his arms and ankles he could understand, but the muzzle? Were they afraid he would somehow talk his way out of the justice Ahsoka wanted to inflict on him?

The low buzzing of the lightsaber caught his attention if only for a second. His eyes followed the blinding blue length of it back up to her face. Her intimidation techniques were weak at best. If her goal was to keep him from trying anything rash, she could have simply kept to the bounds he was in. But the look behind her eyes spoke of something else. Maul arched an eyebrow in a questioning manner. What exactly was her game plan here?

“You might think you know everything about me, but you’re wrong.”

Maul doubted that. He had searched the clone’s head thoroughly to gain every drop of intel he could about the young woman. It had been fascinating. She was as arrogant as she was headstrong. Of course there had been no place for her with the Jedi. She had a thirst for adventure. Had she finished her training under Skywalker, the thrill of protecting her precious republic would have never satisfied her just like it hadn't satisfied him. She had a greater purpose.

“Now don’t try anything.”

She said as she leaned her face in close threateningly, the tip of her lightsaber forcing him to tilt his chin up towards her. She turned her wrist just so and he could see in her eyes she was debating whether or not he deserved justice after all. There was darkness there, a potential he had seen during their duel. The conclusions he had drawn from the trooper’s memories of her were correct. Ahsoka Tano was neither good nor evil. She served no one. She simply was.

She saw his eyes glimmer with anticipation and delight as if he were daring her to just get it over with. Kill him or free him. Those were his options, not the ones she had picked for him. The blade of her lightsaber disappeared at the press of a button and she placed it back at her hip. Maul followed the motion carefully. He couldn't wait to see where this was all going.

What fun!

She was still too close for either of their comfort, although the zabrak couldn’t complain much. He hadn’t been subject to any torture yet but he guessed that might have been the reason she was in his holding cell. He had heard her sending his guards away before entering the room. It wouldn’t be her style but with no one to answer for but herself, it might have been her last desperate attempt at getting answers. Still, there was one last option she hadn't tried if torture was her last resort...

To his surprise, Ahsoka lowered herself in a squatting position in front of him and Maul had to strain to maintain eye contact. With the very restricted range of motion he possessed, it was almost impossible to see what she was doing down at that level. His legs spread further apart and he squirmed to sit up straight. There was an attempt at leaning his upper body forwards but the jolt of her hand to her weapon stopped him dead in his tracks.

She held his full attention.

“I hear these came as a reward.”

The former Jedi said as she knocked on the mechanical part of his leg with her knuckle. Maul rolled his eyes. The antagonising game would only last so long. He could see in her eyes she wanted more than to just look at his prosthetics.

Her hands encircled them and ran up their length ever so slowly, feeling every tiny scratches and small indents in the metal underneath her palms. For the first time that he could recall, Maul wished he had sensations in his lower legs. Just so that he could feel what she was depriving him of. Clearly this was her game. She would only give him so much, just a taste that was enough to feed the fire and make him long for more.

Her hands stopped at his knees, tapping her fingernails against the junction of flesh and metal. Maul caught himself wanting to feel those nails against his skin, across his body. Seduction tricks had never worked on him, he was not that kind of being. He was too smart to be so easily distracted by hollow promises and lustful glances. No. This wasn't it.

This wasn't a trick. Maul could feel it through the force. This was genuine. The attention he was paying her doubled, his senses sharpening and his psyche honing in on her presence.

Ahsoka used his knees as leverage to rise back up on her feet, causing Maul to tense in anticipation. She pressed on the his legs harder, reminding him of just how restrained and uncomfortable he was in his shackles. Was she expecting him to plea for his freedom back?

He chuckled, a soundless rumble that shook his whole body. She could read how amused he was by the way he was devouring her with his eyes. Her web was tightening around him. Whether he knew where she was headed or not with that line of interrogation, she didn't care. She only cared about him lowering his defences enough for her to penetrate his mind.

“I wonder... what’s going on up there?”

Ahsoka brought her fingertips to his temples and focused. She could feel him resisting, his mind straining not to let her in. He was going to fight her all the way, building walls as she dug deeper. Her jaw was clenched and her eyebrows furrowed. Fine, if he wanted to play the hard way so could she.

She climbed on top of him, making sure to drag the motion of her pelvis closing the gap between their bodies as much as possible. His breathing was quickening from both the mental blocks he was putting up and the sudden act of intimacy, his chest heaving. She had no trouble fitting her small frame onto his lap. He was oddly comfortable and warm, a reaction she guessed she had caused.

Maul continued to observe her with carnal fascination, the sound of his hearts loud in his ears. She was persistent. He knew what she would be searching for inside his thoughts, but he could give her something else. Something she might have wanted even more. Surely the thrill of the forbidden fruit would outweigh her need of answers.

Ahsoka had to focus on the task at hand. They could have fun later. As much as she wanted to see more of the tattoos littering his chest, she wanted answers first. She squeezed her legs harder around his waist and gave one last push into his mind. Her hands were fully wrap around his head now, her fingers toying with the release of the muzzle. Perhaps the promise of a reward would make him take the bait.

That he did.

Maul caved in all at once, his eyes closing as her forehead touched his. His thoughts were the definition of organised chaos. There was a sea of pain and suffering that Ahsoka quickly waived in favour of a less threatening and much more enticing dark corner of his mind. What was he hiding in there?

She had been baited, too. Her need for answers suddenly flew out the window. Maul focused his mind on the unspoken truth between them. She had just openly began her little dance of seduction leaving him barely any room to reciprocate given his physical situation.

But that’s what you like, isn’t it?

His thoughts were louder than a wampa as they echoed inside her own mind. She didn’t have to focus so much on making sense out of all of the glimpses of could-have-been he was showing her. The picture was clear enough.

In their conjoined minds, Ahsoka was clutching the top of his tunic, their bodies desperately pressing together. He was still tied up at the exception of his muzzle that had been discarded on the floor. Maul was kissing and biting along her exposed shoulder and throat, leaving marks on her feverish skin. He wanted to claim her just as much as he wanted to be made hers. In the vision, although she wasn’t sure now what was fiction and what was reality, one of her hands ran down his front and shakily entered his clothes, past the large belt and into his pants to grasp his length.

Her head was spinning. It was hard to focus when she could see from both of their perspectives. When she could feel both of their sensations and needs. It felt like an eternity before she reopened her eyes to find herself in the same exact position as the vision, only the muzzle was still on this time.

Ahsoka could feel him throbbing in her hand, a satisfied look in his eyes. She didn’t hesitate as she started moving her hand around him. Maul’s eyes were glued to hers, watching ever little change in her expression. The slight curl of her lips speaking of victory. His pupils were blown wide open with want. Ahsoka could see his breathing fogging up the metal of the gag. It would have been cruel to leave now. After all, she would be left begging for more too. But she could take care of herself.

She nuzzled her face into his neck, pressing a couple of kisses there but stopping when she heard his head thud against the panel behind him. Maul’s eyes rolled back into his skull and his hips rocked into her hand with a loud groan. He was at her complete mercy and there was something to be said about just how much he was eagerly giving in.

Her movements slowed before completely stopping. Maul understood the nature of the game. Ahsoka removed her hand from his pants, determined to make this last. She tucked his clothes back onto his large frame properly, giving a tug at his restraints to make sure they were still fully in place before gracefully unlocking her legs from around his waist and standing up. It left Maul admirative. She could show more self control than he had anticipated. Next time, he’d have to do better.

She’d visit him again now that she knew he was pliable.

Maul gave her a look that let her know he was looking forward to it.

#maulsoka #ahsoka x maul #maul x ahsoka #darth maul #maul #ahsoka #ahsoka tano #tcw #fics

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jonathanvik · 3 years

Text

Starlight Dream - Chapter 6

“Are you okay?” Aiko asked, concerned as Seina approached her from across the street. Her friend was moving sluggishly and had deep bags under her eyes.

“Fine, I suppose.” Mr. Kiyojiro hadn’t been lying about pushing her until she dropped. Her entire body hurt from the countless katas he’d forced her to carry out. Worse, even in her dreams, she couldn’t escape from them, forced to continue her training even there.

Colten zipped around her head. “I’m surprised he’s even allowed you a day off considering how serious he’s taking your training.”

Seina’s fairy friend paused for a moment before brightening. “I just thought of a cool name for your magical girl form!” Seina groaned. Not this again. She was fine with just being called Seina!

After doing an elaborate circle in the air, Colten spread his legs wide. “Lotus Karate!”

“No Colten. Just no.” Seina replied without hesitation.

“Okay. That was kinda bad.” Colten replied, dejected.

Mr. Kiyojiro coughed in his fist, reminding them they were talking about someone right behind them. “You need time to rest your body, too. Besides, your training is going better than expected. You’re a real natural.”

“Sure,” Seina replied, unconvinced. Her body didn’t agree with that statement.

“So, uh.” Aiko paused, reluctant to speak her next words.

“Yes, Aiko, we will learn cool moves soon.” Mr. Kiyojiro said, reading the girl’s thoughts. “In fact, I plan to have her start sparing soon. She just needs a good training partner. I’d do it myself, but I’d rather have someone around Seina’s age. I think she’d learn more effectively with a rival of sorts.”

“You might have someone who’d be a perfect fit,” Colten said, giving Aiko a meaningful glance.

“Don’t look at me!” Aiko replied. “I’m fine sitting on the sidelines. It’s safer.”

“Well, well. You need a sparring partner? I can think of someone who’d be the perfect match.” A figure said, appearing from an alleyway for a second before screaming in pain as Mr. Kiyojiro jabbed him in the stomach and flipped him onto the ground. His victim gave a strangled cry from having the breath knocked from his lungs.

“Oh, it’s you.” Mr. Kiyojiro said, finally getting a good look at the intruder. It was the former Lotus Butcher thug Masato.

“Are you okay?” Seina asked, concerned.

Masato wheezed some more, fighting back tears of pain. “Nah, I’m fine.” He stood straight, pretending he hadn’t gotten thrown onto his butt.

Colten groaned. “What are you doing here?”

“Me?” Masato crossed his arms, giving a confident smile. “Helping you defend the world, sister.”

Seina blinked. “Sister?”

Colten snorted with disbelief. “Really?”

“That’s right, brother. I figure you need all the help you can get. I heard about your training.”

“Why would you help us?” Siena asked, giving the former thug a suspicious glare.

“Because, we are siblings, you and I,” Masato replied. “You, Colten, and I share a special bond. We’re freaks, outcasts, someone no one wants. While we don’t share blood, the bonds we’ve formed run much deeper than that.”

“What’s this, we business!? What bonds?! Don’t lump me in with you!” Seina replied, agasted.

“As your big brother, I thought it would be only proper if I assisted your training.” Masato continued.

Seina gave her bodyguard a questioning glance. “Is there anything he could teach me?”

“No.” Mr. Kiyojiro replied automatically.

Seina nodded her agreement. She’d arrived at the same conclusion. “Thought as much. I appreciate the offer, but no thanks.”

“Yeah, this guy is kind of weak,” Aiko said.

“Oh come on!” Masato said in protest. “I have years of experience!”

“How many? How old are you anyway?” Seina asked, curious.

“14.”

“Eh? 14?!” Siena gapped at the massive muscle bound man in total shock. Colten made a croaking gurgling sound and Mr. Kiyojiro’s jaw dropped.

That’s only four older than me! “You look like you’re in your thirties!”

“I’ve lived a hard life,” Masato replied.

Mr. Kiyojiro rubbed his face. “Those must have been a hard five years.”

“You’ve probably already done the math and are a little confused. As I previously said, my family kicked me out. I bet you’re asking how that adds up with the vampire’s arrival? Doesn’t this mean I was kicked out about around nine? Yes, it’s a sad tale.”

Masato blinked. “Hey! Where are you going?!” Seina and her entourage were already walking away, losing interest in whatever the former thug had to say about his past. Just because he’d stop being a bad guy didn’t mean that she wanted to be his friend.

“Hey, I know! Instead of that guy, I’ll ask around.” Aiko said. “I might find someone local who’s interested.”

“Damn vampires. If only dojos still existed, it’d make this much simpler. There’s no guarantee we’ll find anyone with talent.” Mr. Kiyojiro grumbled to himself. “Nevermind. While not a perfect solution, it should suffice.”

“Perfect!” Aiko snapped her fingers. “I’ll ask around right away!”

Hey, I might make a new friend! Seina was looking forward to seeing what training partner Aiko might find for her. During her childhood, it was difficult to make friends with children her age. Many didn’t survive, or the vampire overlords moved them somewhere else. It forced her to have mostly adult friends. If it meant making a new friend, she’d endure the repetitive exercises and sore muscles.

“You could always ask me, little sister,” Masato said behind them. “I happen to know an ancient martial art that goes back centuries! No? Fine… I’m here if you need me!”

---

“Are you serious, that’s wonderful news!” Lilha almost bounced on her feet, giddy with excitement. Luck was finally on her side.

“Make sure no one else applies. Keep a watch on this, Aiko.” Lilha told her minion. Despite being a deposed vampire queen, she still wasn’t without influence. The servant nodded, disappearing through a window.

“What is it?” Shinobu said, approaching with interest. “Have you found something that will help us kill the magical girl?”

Since joining their side, the clerk had shown a vested interest in killing their target. Lilha had worried that he’d have some compunction about killing a ten-year-old girl. But the prospect of restoring his son to life blinded him to such petty moral scruples. He’d spent many long hours in Lilha’s crummy apartment, helping her hash out their assassination strategy. They’d been rooming together as they devised their plans. He’d proven a reliable roommate.

“Yeah, that fool girl has created the perfect opportunity for us,” Lilha replied.

“Oh, really?” Takako said from Lilha’s battered old couch, looking up from her manga magazine. Her voice showed mild interest. Unlike Shinobu, however, their magical girl ally hadn’t assisted with their plans at all. She cared more about slacking off, eating junk food, and reading manga. Lilha’s loathing for the girl grew by the day.

“Yes,” Lilha replied, fighting back venom. “Seina has created an opening we can exploit. She’s looking for a sparring partner. Apparently, her bodyguard is teaching her martial arts.”

This news made Lilha curse inwardly. The last thing they needed was for their enemy to become more capable. She’d been counting on the foolish girl to bask in her power, assuming herself unbeatable. Reality, however, told a different tale, meaning they needed to plan their surgical strike even more carefully.

Takako made a face. “And you’re expecting me to join her and get all sweaty, no thanks.”

“It’s a perfect opportunity to learn more about our enemy and her weak points. If you pretend to become her friend, it will create a weakness we can exploit.” Despite her great power, Seina was an ordinary girl. The fool girl would never suspect a friend of betraying her.

“Yeah, right.” Takako rolled her eyes. “Besides, won’t she recognize me? I doubt a wig and glasses will fool anyone.”

Shinobu stroked his chin. “Actually, disguising you with my powers shouldn’t be difficult. As long as you don’t venture ten miles away or purposely ruin the illusion, it should fool her without issue.”

“No! I’m not learning martial arts! That’s so lame.” Takako summoned her twin pistols, spinning them around in her hands. “I have these. It’s more than enough.”

Lilha seethed with frustration. Why couldn’t this lazy girl understand what an opportunity this provided? She opened her mouth for a nasty rebuke, but Nier surprised her by flying forward.

“Takako.” The fairy’s tone was stern. “You saw Seina’s power for yourself. Even with the vampires’ help, defeating her won’t be easy. You can’t fight her with half-measures. You heard the vampire, she’s learning martial arts and honing her abilities. What do you think will happen once Seina completes her training? If an opportunity to increase your own power presents itself, take it. Unless you’re comfortable being second fiddle to Seina for the rest of your life.”

The magical girl’s face scrunched up in irritation. Much to Lilha’s astonishment, Takako absorbed Neir’s words. The girl had never listened to her.

“Fine!” Takako threw up her hands. “If it means beating Seina, I’ll get a little sweaty. But only a little!” After a moment her grimace turned into a smirk, returning to her usual cocky self. “Besides, a little more awesomeness couldn’t hurt. I’ll enjoy making Seina look like a fool once I beat her with her own martial arts.”

“How did you do that?” Lilha whispered to the fairy, while Takako continued to brag about herself.

“You just need to know to talk to her,” Nier replied. “We’ve known each other for years.”

That’s a relief. Children were such an annoying pain. Why anyone purposely endured the grueling insanity of parenthood, Lilha never knew.

“Perfect, we can spend the next hour working on your disguise.” Shinobu rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation.

“Won’t she detect your true nature?” Shinobu asked.

Takako waved a dismissive hand. “I can hide my magic. No big deal.”

“Just remember this, Takako,” Lilha said. “Act normally. We don’t want Seina or her bodyguard to get suspicious. It would ruin everything.”

“Act normal?” The magical girl replied, insulted. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything that will draw attention to myself.”

Good. The first step of her master plan was falling into place. The rest would soon follow, and the hateful, magical girl would soon be dead.

---

“Again!”

Seina grunted and performed the same sequence of katas she’d been performing for the last hour. She winced as Mr. Kiyojiro cracked a wooden sword he’d been holding against the ground and walked up to her.

“No, like this.” Her bodyguard adjusted her posture by a minute detail. “Again.”

Seina performed the sequence again, trying to perform the movements just as Mr. Kiyojiro instructed. Her heart bloomed with pleasure as he nodded, indicating she’d performed it successfully. Inwardly, she sighed. If only it didn’t mean that she’d need to perform this same move another hundred times.

Here we go. Seina thought with little enthusiasm.

“Seina!” Colten said, flying down towards Seina from an upper window.

Thank you, timely interruption!

“What is it? Are vampires attacking the city?!” Seina said, her voice hopeful.

“Nope, everything’s calm,” Colten replied with a shake of his head, much to his magical girl’s disappointment. “But I have good news. Aiko has found someone interested in joining our training sessions!”

“Oh, is that right?” Mr. Kiyojiro said with interest.

“She basically jumped at the chance to receive some martial training. I think she has some real promise. There’s something about her.” Colten replied.

“Who is it?” Seina said, her interest peaked. Perhaps training wouldn’t be as miserable if she had another girl training with her.

“Come in!” Colten yelled.

The door opened and in walked Aiko along with another girl their age. The girl’s face extended into a cocky smile, and she vanished in a blur. She leaped high into the air, flattering her body and letting out a loud cry “Hi-ya!”. While in mid-air, she performed a triple spinning corkscrew and landed with grace on her feet, only a meter away from where Seina stood, arms extended.

“My name is Maeko Kodama.” The strange girl said. “And I’m interested in being your training partner.” Up close, the girl stood a few centimeters taller than Seina. She wore her hair short too, but a longer single braid fell over her right cheek. She had strong features and her green eyes spoke of mischief and confidence.

“Right. Um, Seina, Seina Kamiyama.” Seina nodded dumbly, taken aback by the girl’s dazzling display of athleticism.

Meako smirked, raising her head high proudly. “Could you have a better training partner?”

“Wow, that was amazing,” Aiko said from the doorway. “I hadn’t expected she’d do that.”

“Yeah, she’s, uh, interesting,” Colten said.

Mr. Kiyojiro crossed his arms, not as impressed as the others. “And you wish to learn martial arts? May I ask why?”

Maeko only shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a dangerous world out there. So, why not?”

Seina’s bodyguard studied the newcomer for several long moments. For reasons Seina didn’t understand, his expression turned hard, considering the matter with the utmost seriousness. After several more moments, he nodded. “I’m not opposed to it. As long as your parents don’t oppose it.”

“They don’t,” Maeko replied.

“This is perfect!” Seina surprised Maeko by grabbing her hands, gripping the girl’s with hers. “I can’t tell you how lonely it is to train alone. I can tell we’ll become the best of friends!”

“Yeah, it’s nice we’ll be outnumbering the boys,” Aiko added, giving the newcomer a big hug.

“Right,” Maeko replied, shifting awkwardly, disliking all the sudden familiar attention.

“We should have a sleepover tonight!” Aiko said. “I found some more old movies we can watch. They’re not in the best condition however. They might not play right.”

“Movies?” Maeko asked, surprised.

“That’s fine. I’m sure we’ll find one that works” Seina waved a dismissive hand. “What are they about?”

“They’re a little random, but many of them are kid’s movies,” Aiko replied. “I found an animated one about Momotaro!”

“Even I know about that one! That sounds so cute!”

From Maeko’s expression, she didn’t know what they were talking about. Good, Seina always loved the tales of Momotaro’s adventures with his animal friends and would love to explain them to her new friend. She could build puppets.

Mr. Kiyojiro coughed, pointing to the training mat. Seina still hadn’t finished training for the day.

“Okay,” Seina replied, her mood deflating.

“It won’t be for too long.” Her bodyguard gave her a rare smile. “Just for another half-an-hour, then you can play with your new friend.”

“Nice!” Seina beamed. The day had finally improved.

“Uh, what about me?” Maeko asked.

“Just watch and observe.” Mr. Kiyojiro replied. “We can begin the basics tomorrow. There’s no rush.”

Colten snorted. “I hope so. If Lily Annihilator has run back to Starlight Dream with her tail in between her legs, we’ll be in trouble.”

“She would never do that!” Maeko replied, indignant.

Seina blinked. “Sorry?”

“I mean. I heard about this evil magical girl.” Maeko coughed in her fist. “She’s the talk of the town! Pretty scary from all accounts! Proud too! I bet she’s lying in wait, eager to strike when you're least expecting it!”

“Please.” Colten rolled his eyes. “She’ll just fail all over again. I’m worried about her bosses. They’re the real threat!”

“Shows how much you know!” Takako snapped, crossing her arms, a smug expression on her face. “I heard how she killed that Lotus Butcher guy in one hit. She’s far more dangerous than you give her credit for!”

“Like killing a vampire is anything worth noting,” Colten rolled his eyes.

“Now guys, let’s not fight,” Seina said before the argument got worse. “Maeko, I haven’t forgotten about Lily Annihilator. She just isn’t my primary concern right now. I’ve been thinking I’ll need some new tricks if I need to fight her again.”

Maeko perked up. “Really? I’d love to hear about them. That’s so cool!”

“Sure, we can talk about them at supper,” Seina replied. “Mr. Kiyojiro is making curry!” Curry was her favorite dish ever. She liked the spiciness. Colten wasn’t a fan, but that was alright. Her new friend might like it too. She enjoyed sharing a good meal with friends.

“Which you’ll have once you finish your training for today.” Mr. Kiyojiro said, his voice firm. Training always ended when he said so, no compromises.

“Okay,” Seina replied, not wanting to argue.

She began the sequence again, performing it without error, determined to make a show of it. Mr. Kiyojiro nodded his approval, smiling again. Although somewhat impatient, Maeko absorbed the lessons he was teaching her. Good. Seina had a good feeling about her. They’d be fantastic friends and training partners!

---

“Come,” Emiyo said, crossing her legs. Her fairy partner, Nyx, was sleeping in her usual bed on the floor of her office. Despite being built for dogs, Nyx found it quite comfortable.

“I have the latest reports here.” Miko, her personal assistant, entered Emiyo’s office and passed her the note. Her fairy partner, Jin, sat on her head. The girl wasn’t much to look at, very small and mouse-like, but she was efficient and good at getting the job done. The efficiency rating of her office increased by 44.9 percent since Miko became a magical girl.

“Good, misery is spreading nicely.” The sixth sector of the multiverse was especially suffering, increasing by forty-two percent. It constituted several hundred billion universes.

“That isn’t all,” Miko said, her voice tense. “Look at the next page.”

“I see.” Emiyo’s voice was tight. The suffering overall in the eighth sector had decreased by a significant amount, almost 70.12 percent! It made her head spin. “Reasons?”

“We aren’t sure yet,” Miko replied. “It might be the rebel. She’s a tricky one to track. It’s impossible to predict where she’ll appear next.”

Emiyo rubbed the bridge of her nose. “What’s being done about this?”

“Well, Takako went to investigate the strange drop in one particular universe, but she hasn’t reported back. She’s days overdue.”

“Typical. She’s probably slacking off somewhere reading local manga.”

“The other girls aren’t so confident.” Miko’s tension increased. “Some are saying the rebel has gotten her.”

“I’m surprised you care.”

Miko snorted. “Hardly, but it’s more about what it represents. Takako isn’t the only one to not report back. Five other girls have gone missing, each in the eighth sector.”

“So, the rebel is making her move again.” Emiyo ground her teeth. “After her last beating, it’s a wonder she’s even alive.”

After several hundred years, everyone had assumed she’d died. Her bid to create a rebellion in Starlight Dream had ended in failure, almost resulting in her death. Was she picking off weaker girls to hurt their efforts instead? While numerous, the magical girls of Starlight Dream weren’t infinite.

“Whatever she’s doing, it’s undermining our operations.” Emiyo stood from her desk and paced.

Nyx yawned, raising her head from her bed. “What’s the matter?”

“Trouble,” Emiyo replied.

“If girls are going missing, someone needs to investigate. Not me, of course!” Miko said quickly. “If it is the rebel, then someone powerful needs to go. Should I inform the Devil Princesses?”

“No.” Emiyo considered this a private matter. Contacting the Four wasn’t necessary or wanted. “I’ll go.”

Nyx beamed, flipping in the air. “Great! We’ve been cooped up in this office for too many centuries.”

Emiyo nodded her agreement. “Watch things here. I’ll find out what happened to Takako. Pretend she’s just being lazy as usual. I don’t want more doom and gloom rumors spreading around.”

Miko saluted. “Got it.”

Nyx flew over to her shoulder and landed on it. “Road trip! Yes!”

“Watch the suffering quote in the eighth sector,” Emiyo said, her voice nasty. “It’s about to increase by at least 200 percent.”

#fiction #story #stories #magical girl #humor #comedy #parody #anime stories #anime #starlight dream #fist of the north star

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notthatiwilleverwriteit · 5 years

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I don't know if you ever answered something similar but here's my question. Once in a while there's comments saying that he tian is forcing himself on mo, but I think they misunderstand the situation because mo is a tsundere and will always say something like "fuck off" to he tian, even if he cares. So my question is: in your opinion is tianshan still toxic like in the beginning?

Good morning, anon-san!

I have actually talked about Tianshan’s (power) dynamic quite a lot. Here are some previous answers/posts you might find interesting:

Tianshan coming a full circle

My 19 Days OTP

My favorite Tianshan moment

Physical and emotional closeness in Tianshan

Will there ever be a verbal Tianshan confession?

Future of Tianshan

He Tian’s jealousy and possessiveness

Is Tianshan toxic?

The last link on the list probably comes the closest to what you asked, but there was actually something I wish I had included. So, I’ll take a look at your question and also talk about the things I left out. There will be some repetition, though.

“comments saying that he tian is forcing himself on mo”

In my previous answer about Tianshan being toxic, I came to the conclusion that toxicity is in the eye of the beholder. What we see as being toxic depends on our own perspective and individual taste. I don’t think it’s really about misunderstanding but rather reading things through differently tinted lenses and different things appealing to different people. To each of us, the line between “toxic” and “non-toxic” is different. Our tolerance for a certain kind of behavior can differ quite a lot from other readers’ - He Tian’s character and Tianshan being an excellent example.

Tianshan is a certain type of dynamic that often appeals to a lot of people but it will always also have a fair share of anti-fans. So, I doubt there is such a thing as enough development to make the comments about Tianshan being toxic stop. At least not without changing the dynamic fundamentally in which case, it would become something else. As a Tianshan shipper, I wouldn’t want the development ever go in that direction.

However, that doesn’t mean fans should stop listening to each other. I believe people who think Tianshan is toxic can have a lot to add to the discussion. Their points are based on their original perspectives just like ours. Just because we might disagree doesn’t have to mean we can’t learn from each other.

“in your opinion is tianshan still toxic like in the beginning?”

To be honest, I never really saw Tianshan overall as toxic. To me, there isn’t some point in the story prior to which their relationship was toxic and after it was less toxic. Then again, I have quite a high tolerance for behavior that others deem toxic or problematic. I’m usually drawn to those kinds of dynamics in fiction and find them endlessly interesting instead of something that should be get rid of. More often than not, they end up being my jam and OTPs.

But I’ve always wondered what people who see “before” and “after” in Tianshan think has been the defining moment that turned their relationship for the better. Personally, I’m struggling with that since I have never really had a problem with how their dynamic works.

Instead, I see Tianshan’s journey through the development of both He Tian and Mo Guan Shan’s characters. Both of them have gone through some changes but also have some parts that won’t probably ever change and ultimately affect the overall dynamic of their relationship.

Mo Guan Shan has gradually started to trust He Tian more and warm up to him. His walls aren’t as high as in the beginning. He doesn’t want to deny their connection as fiercely anymore. And he even shows more of his “tsun” side towards He Tian. His resistance has become more about getting flustered and being increasingly conscious of He Tian than rejecting him out of resentment.

But. Mo Guan Shan will never not stand up to He Tian and strive for being independent. He will still tell He Tian to go fuck himself and ask if he’s supposed to be that familiar with him. He will always spit that He Tian can’t tell him what to do and that he can’t control him. And that is, in fact, one of the reasons why He Tian admires him. As persistent as He Tian is, Mo Guan Shan will agree to things at his own pace. That is both a warning and a promise.

He Tian, on the other hand, has come to learn Mo Guan Shan’s limits and to be more aware so he can keep earning his trust. The nature of his strength has changed. It’s gone from “you better watch your mouth because you answer to me now” to “I don’t care how long it takes but please don’t leave me”. He Tian’s role as the strong savior and someone honing down Mo Guan Shan’s personality has started to slip. We readers and Mo Guan Shan have seen more and more of his weak moments, fears, and insecurities. He has started to feel safe and secure with Mo Guan Shan. And I suppose all of that is where the usual arguments about the development from “toxic” to “less toxic” stem from.

But. He Tian will never not be pushy and dominant. Even if he doesn’t want Mo Guan Shan to become meek and agreeable, he still won’t let his objections and resistance discourage his affections. He will never be the type that asks for permission for everything. Or even every other thing. He will always keep his arm hooked around Mo Guan Shan’s shoulders despite how much he keeps struggling.

You could see all of that through the lenses of “toxic” but also as two characters developing together. It can be a very subtle difference in perspective, but I think it’s a rather important one.

Some time ago, OldXian gave us part 3 of the Christmas special that takes place in the future. I saw readers being somewhat disappointed that Tianshan hadn’t developed as much as or in the direction they had wished. These two panels especially seemed to dampen the mood a little (ch. 313):

It didn’t seem like they had grown much closer. However, I would say their future relationship is pretty much as I expected it to be. Mo Guan Shan was quick to say no as a knee-jerk reaction but kind of letting He Tian get away with things. He wasn’t putting up quite as fierce of a fight as he would have in the past. He Tian, on the other hand, was still physically dominant and mischevious and yet affectionate. It almost seemed like he was craving for physical closeness.

If you take into account the things I think are fundamental about the characters and will never go away in their relationship, I think the level of development might make more sense. I doubt Mo Guan Shan will ever be honest or open about his feelings towards He Tian. But he will grant us little pieces of subtle, unexpected affection here and there. Little hints that he doesn’t mind He Tian’s company as much as he claims. And in return, He Tian will keep pushing because he knows he’s not truly making Mo Guan Shan do something he really doesn’t want to. But that dynamic is still toxic in the people’s eyes who have always thought so.

Moments that have bothered me

As much as I ship Tianshan, there have been a few moments in their dynamic and development that I have been bothered by. But again, I don’t really see them as being toxic but rather as learning curves of their relationship.

The first kiss (ch. 174):

I have never found this kiss hot or sexy. Actually, He Tian sticking his tongue out like that and shoving it in Mo Guan Shan’s mouth always freaks me out a little. I’m frankly turned off by it. But it served as an important lesson. And I don’t think it made He Tian toxic. He hadn’t meant the kiss the way Mo Guan Shan took it. He was genuinely confused by Mo Guan Shan’s reaction and realized he had crossed a line with him.

Let’s make a run for it (ch. 273):

I know this was a rather minor moment, but the level of disregard by He Tian at the moment has always annoyed me. Mo Guan Shan has responsibilities he’s getting paid for, so he can’t just up and leave according to He Tian’s whims. The world doesn’t work that way. But his life has always been vastly different from Mo Guan Shan’s, so it’s good he’s exposed to different ways of life.

He Tian and people who aren’t Mo Guan Shan (ch. 295):

I doubt He Tian really pays attention to the group around Mo Guan Shan or cares about them. I think that also means he wouldn’t hesitate to be an ass to them if he’s not feeling particularly nice or thinks they’re getting in the way. That trait is what I have always disagreed the most with the thug way of life. Not really caring about people who don’t directly concern you and thinking it’s okay to be over the top offensive if someone happens to wrong you somehow. In society, you don’t have the right to take matters into your own hands and become the judge. And just because He Tian happens to care about Mo Guan Shan the most, it doesn’t entitle him to treat others badly or bark orders like they don’t have a choice but to submit.

I’m not in a good mood (ch. 295):

Kind of a continuation of the previous one. I think this was the most frustrated I have been with He Tian. I know what ultimately made him behave that way and it made sense, but for a while, I was annoyed because it seemed He Tian had regressed back to his old ways. Like dude, the world does not revolve around your moods. Other people have feelings, too. The fact that He Tian doesn’t bow down to anyone is one of my favorite things about him, but the lack of humility can also get a bit annoying at times. He Tian is quite physical when it comes to showing his feelings but I hope he will keep getting better at using his words, too. Luckily, Mo Guan Shan is someone who can take him at his worst.

I’m not trying to make it sound like people who see Tianshan as toxic are somehow wrong or can’t make valid points. As you noticed, even I’ve had certain moments I didn’t agree with. But perhaps because crying “toxic” is so common in fandoms these days and it’s used as a weapon to diss other’s taste in fictional relationships, I somewhat prefer to distance myself from that particular way of looking at things. He Tian and Tianshan most certainly aren’t flawless, but if you take a step back you come to realize toxicity is a surprisingly narrow perspective. It leaves out the characters as a whole by pointing at just certain traits and removing them from their context.

Thank you for your question, dear anon-san!

#tianshan #19 days #He Tian #mo guan shan #answered ask

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freewithyourtempo · 5 years

Note

Could you write a cherik fic where Erik is this really famous/hot actor who keeps his personal life very private and all of his fans speculate who his wife his and want to date him until he shows up to a red carpet with Charles (in a wheelchair) and shocks everyone and reveals they’ve been together since like childhood

I’m really sorry it took me so long to write this.I hope you’ll like it!

"Are you ever going to tell us who you’re dating?“

The room holds his breath.Erik Lehnsherr smiles, slow and dangerous. Not in a pleasant way.

Well, Emma rectifies, it is still a boiling hot smile - how could it not be, with those cheekbones and that jawline -; but it isn’t meant to be reassuring. She feels her face warming.

Lehnsherr takes his time answering.

He fetches the bottle of water hiding the plaque with his name - as if anyone could not know who Erik Lehnsherr is at a press conference for his latest blockbuster-, long fingers leaving prints on the cloudy glass, and refills his cup.

He tilts the bottle, tendons bulge on his arm. Dozens of eyes follow the spilling water on its way down.

Emma could bet the journalist is already regretting her question, and hides her smirk behind a clever swipe of her lipstick.

Someone coughs in the heavily silent room.

Everyone is staring at Lehnsherr’s working throat, up and down with his Adam’s apple, and Lehnsherr is grinning down at the poor journalist, who, at this point, can only squirm in her pastel tailleur.

Eventually, Lehnsherr puts his glass down and pops his lips. “You’re not my type,” he says.

The journalist looks flabbergasted. “I- What?”

Emma shifts on her chair and uncrosses her legs.

Lehnsherr blinks. “The only reasonable excuse for you to ask me anything about the identity of my partner is that you’re interested in what I like. Because, otherwise, your question would be highly inappropriate. So… I’m saving you time. You’re not my type. Next question?”

The journalist sits back down with no further comment.

Emma raises her hand to ask a question.

***

According to the Internet, Erik Lehnsherr is so hot that staring at him without your sunglasses could send you directly to the Emergency Room with burnt corneas.

But boy, wouldn’t it be worth it.

Your internal eyelids would forever preserve the image of those sharp cheekbones, those sin-inducing lips, those bulb-exploding grey eyes.

But it isn’t just his face, it is his whole attitude.

Brooding, mysterious and confident, with a smile that could slice open paparazzi’s cameras and a taste for dark characters with disputable morals and indisputable appeal.

Every woman wants to do him, and every man wants to–

No, scratch that.

Everyone with a sexual drive has dreamt at least once of his long fingers and rough jaw in the last year, no exception.

Hell, Erik Lehnsherr is so convolutedly sexy that Byron would have had wet dreams about him.

Once Emma saw a video of him smoking and that night she woke up, skin burning hot, with the sheets wrapped around her calves and a tuft of blonde hair stuck to her damp forehead.

And as any self-respecting tormented artist, he is a recluse.

He doesn’t attend galas or parties if he can help it (he can help it pretty often), he has never been photographed with his hands up someone’s skirt in an alley behind a dark disco or been arrested for skinny-dipping in the Trevi Fountain. The last one is a pity.

He doesn’t even have one chatty, bribable relative in all of New York.

Emma would know, she has gone looking.

It is frustrating.

Fundamental questions about his person are still unanswered, and one of them above all torments Erik Lehnsherr’s fans like a rock in their shoes.

A rock the size of Mount Rushmore.

Who is the lucky bastard who has chained him with a wedding band?

Emma is torn between her desire to bloodily maul them and to gift them a star on the walk of fame.

The inscription would be something on the line of: “The unknown sucker that wakes up every morning with Erik Lehnsherr’s ass at arm’s length. Hope you plump him up like a pillow, sugar.”

But the identity of the unknown spouse will in all likelihood stay a secret a little longer.

It is probably the blonde top model who has co-starred his last movie, anyway. Hollywood’s couples are never a big surprise.

***

Logan has a work ethic, even if he is a paparazzo.

Just because he makes money on people’s missteps, heartbreaks and scandals - the snottiest, the better-, it doesn’t mean he can’t be compassionate about it.

That’s why he has come to the conclusion, while squatted behind a smelly trash can in front of Lehnsherr’s trailer, that he will give the actor a heads up.

He will still sell the photos of his imminent cheating to the highest bidder, obviously.

That kind of stuff is worth thousands of bucks, and he is not Gandhi.

But he will magnanimously offer Lehnsherr time to have a heart to heart with his significant other, whoever she may be. Cry a bit, beg for forgiveness, buy diamonds. The usual stuff one does when they are very sorry and not doing that again.

He could put an anonymous letter in the mailbox, maybe.

Yes, Logan thinks, chewing on his battered cigar, that will do it.

He is such a good guy.

He lifts his camera and zooms on the very pretty girl waiting outside of Lehnsherr’s trailer.

Logan sees her knocking twice, then tossing her dark hair on one shoulder and putting a hand on her cocked hip. Her tiny, tiny dress rides up her thigh some more and she doesn’t fix it.

It takes a few moments, then Lehnsherr opens the door in his sweatpants, hair ruffled already.

The girl takes a step forward on her staggering heels, and Logan starts snapping photos of the two like his life depends on it.

He’s grinning like a maniac, the trashcan he’s leaning against squits periodically and his index finger hurts, but there’s no way on Earth he will let this opportunity get away.

Now Lehnsherr will look around furtively, making sure there’s no one in the vicinity, will grab the girl by the arm and close the door behind their entwined figures.

Except that he doesn’t.

Logan can literally feel the bills being taken out of his pockets and he almost wails.

His camera records the evolution of Lehnsherr’s surprised, frowning, distrusting and openly hostile face.

He’s not aroused, he’s not intrigued, he’s not even remotely interested in freeing the entrance of his trailer.

He looks almost offended.

Lehnsherr lifts one eyebrow, syllables something that can’t be anything but a piercing “no” and snaps the door closed. The girl jumps.

Logan captures the moment with a sigh and looks critically at the result.

The next morning the most-clicked tabloids display a full-page picture of Lehnsherr’s unforgiving rejection with a dozen variation of the same question.

“Does he prefer blondes?”

***

Emma wishes fans were fashionable, because Erik Lehnsherr has just stepped onto the red carpet, showered by the frantic flashes of the cameras, and she suddenly feels weak in the knees.

Somebody next to her whistles under their breath, and she totally shares the sentiment.

He doesn’t look ethereal, he looks very, very solid. Tall and self-possessed, straight shoulders and slim waist in a gorgeous oxford-blue suit that makes his legs go on forever.

There’s something less than stoic in the line of his mouth, though, Emma notices.

A nervous flicker of the eye, and then something happens.

He turns around and smiles.

Emma stares.

It’s not his usual smile, sardonic and knowing, charming but in a honed way.It is a flustered smile, face flushed, bright eyes and everything. And it is directed to one man and one man only, who is approaching him with strong pushes of his wheelchair.

Cameras go crazy around them, other actors forgotten.

Lensherr waits for his companion to join him, face so open it looks like it has lost its bark.

Emma can’t see the face of the stranger, only the straight lines of an expensive suit and a mop of rich, brown hair, and almost gets on her tiptoes to have a better view.

The men share a few words under the hungry stares of the journalists, then Lehnsherr rolls his eyes and indulgently bends over to have his bow-tie straightened.

Emma can’t hear anything from where she’s standing, but she is quite sure Lehnsherr has just warringly asked: “Are you happy now?”

The other man answers, Lehnsherr snorts and kisses him on the forehead.

Then he freezes, and turns towards the people gathered as if spotting them only then.

He glares at the journalists, steely eyes back in their place in a clear warning, and straightens back to move forward on the carpet.

Emma walks as fast as she can without breaking into a run, heels sinking into the moquette and jewels tingling.“Mr. Lehnsherr!”She knows he has heard her, because his back stiffens, but he doesn’t turn. She frowns. He’s not getting away from this. “Mr. Lehnsherr!”The man in the wheelchair stops, turns his head and smiles so charmingly at her she feels instantly flattered. “Erik, dear, that lovely woman is trying to get your attention.”

He has a silver-polishing British accent, voice calm and collected.

“She won’t have it.”

“Dear.”

It is an obvious reprimand, one that sounds smoothed by use, and Emma sees Lehnsherr’s shoulders sag in defeat. She smiles smugly at his disgruntled frown when he turns.

His British companion swiftly approaches her, and Lehnsherr follows him a few steps behind like a recalcitrant body-guard.

“What do you want, Frost?”

“Erik!” the man exclaims, scandalized, and glares at him. “Don’t be such a yahoo.”

He delicately lifts Emma’s hand and draws it close to his lips.

He blinks on his blue, blue eyes and looks at her from below, and Emma feels her face redden. “Miss, I apologize for his behavior. He’s usually well-mannered.”

“Charles, you are making me sound like your corgi.”

“Nonsense, dear,” Charles answers, and winks at Emma. “You would at least be a Doberman.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

Emma feels scrambled.

Lehnsherr doesn’t smile dreamily, doesn’t get teased and laughs it off. He glares and scoffs and frowns and scares people away. Who is this Charles, and what power does he have?

“You’re gaping, Frost,” Lehnsherr says icily. “Is something the matter?”

He moves closer to Charles and puts his left hand on his shoulder to squeeze it lightly, in an obviously protective stance. His wedding ring shines proudly against the dark fabric.

Charles tilts his head and briefly strokes his cheeks against Lehnsherr’s fingers, equally obviously calming.

“You can’t blame me for being surprised,” Emma shoots back. “He’s too nice for you.”

Lehnsherr sharpens his eyes and assays her, then nods once, imperceptibly.

“Now, now,” Charles intervenes, tone pacifying. “Erik is the best man I’ve ever met, and the best boyfriend I have ever had!”

Lehnsherr looks down at him. “I’m the only boyfriend you’ve ever had, Charles.”

“Well, I’m sure you would have been the best, anyway.”

Something inside of Emma is melting, but she finally remembers that she has a job to do. “High-school sweethearts?”

“No,” Lehnsherr answers, and tightens his lips to show how unwilling he’s to share more on the subject.

“More like childhood sweethearts,” Charles adds. Then smirks. “Erik proposed when he was ten. We had met the previous week.”

Lehnsherr blushes, actually blushes. “You accepted,” he grumbles.

“How could I not? The first time we met, you saved Cerebro. You were my knight in shining armor.”

“Cerebro?” Emma asks.

“His cat. That dunce was stuck in a tree.”

“How can you call him that, you were inseparable!”

“He was silly!”

“He was curious!”

Lehnsherr huffs “A ridiculous cat for a ridiculous man, Xavier.”

Emma chokes on her breath. “Xavier? Xavier of the Xavier Corporations?”Charles Xavier smiles bashfully, and Emma considers it a confirmation. “I’m just a professor, really…”“A university professor,” Lehnsherr corrects. “Yes, but…”“You have been called ‘a prodigy’, If I recall correctly.”“Erik,” Charles mutters, reprimanding. He straightens his tie and clears his throat. Emma looks from one man to the other, blinking. “You’ve just become the hottest couple in the whole city, I hope you know that.” She considers for a moment, then adds. “In every sense.”

#cherik #cherik fic #you asked #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #actor!erik #emma frost #logan howlett #my fic

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johns-prince · 5 years

Note

Ok so this is going to be a long post but I need someone to explain something to me. I'm a guy, I'm gay and recently I just started to get obsessed with The Beatles and John especially. Let's say I have a mad crush on the guy. I was pleased to hear thanks to some blogs like yours that he was an lgbtq ally, and there is a chance that the man of my life was also a bisexual ( strongly leaning on the male side if I read some of your blogs including yours ). But my adoration for the man has been ---

shattered since I've read on various Beatles forums that he was very homophobic and shit it hurts me to hear that. I know that he has beat up a guy for implying that he was gay, trashed a movie on homosexuality in front of everyone ( I think the movie was called Victim ), that he would openly mock his gay manager Brian Epstein ( bless him ), has called gay people nasty names during a 70s interview like AKOMP stated, that he made fun of a musician by kissing him then pushing him away and called - him a " faggot " and other incidents I can't think of right now. It just hurts a lot because I adore this man, I'm madly in love with him but I'm starting to believe that all this support for the our community had been nothing but a shtick for the " peace & love " propaganda he and Yoko started in the 70s. He also said in a interview w himself that " bisexuality is trendy " which makes me believe that I'm right. I am lost & disappointed & I'm turning to you guys to clarify all of this to me pls.

Well first of all, hullo! I totally understand having a mad crush on John, as well as him being The Man of My Life.

Yes, it’s true! The Beatles in general were very ahead of their time; none of them had any real issue with homosexuals, though perhaps a bit put off at times because of their upbringing and culture and all that, but they were supportive and never understood why these people were treated so poorly. They had a gay manager, it’d be weird for them to be homophobic while treating Brian like a parental figure, loved him and adored him [even if they did tease him a bit behind his back, or even in front of him-- they teased everyone, doesn’t mean they held any ill feelings towards Brian because he was gay] and being part of the music/artsy crowd, they all had gay/bisexual friends, open or not.

I truly believe John was bisexual, and while he never outright stated it, I believe he would have eventually directly came out if he had not been killed.

He was moreso testing the waters though, talking about that when he was 15 he thought he’d have to go and marry off some wealthy old woman or man to continue his passion for art/literature; frequented gay bars with Harry Nilsson, and while he claimed he did it to put off the press-- we know that what he did would have the opposite effect, the press would be constantly on watch, being that there was John Lennon going about gay bars! John could be a terrible liar; even during his Hamburg days, John was described as seeming at home in bars featuring drag queens, and was told he found it stupid how the ‘’culture’’ of gay individuals in industries like music or art, the “scenes” were championed, but the people in general were treated like shit; later on John says gay people are beautiful during an interview [in the 70s I believe]; he’s quoted saying that people should be able to love anyone, that it shouldn’t matter who someone loves; back to the Hamburg era, apparently John had been caught in a drag club/transvestite bar, you know, getting frisky with one by I guess the club runner? and he was all embarrassed of course, but the man didn’t judge him; John is described as someone who was always willing to experiment, after agreeing to a threesome with someone, again back in Germany, one female and another male [though the female was between them, not sure if anything happened between John and the other male]; yes I remember reading somewhere that John did kiss another male performer, before shoving him off and responded crudely; Yoko saying how she’d ‘’teasingly’’ call John a Closeted Fag; Yoko claiming John had told her he would have slept with a man, but he hadn’t found a man beautiful and intelligent enough for him to want to bed him [lies]; Yoko claiming that John had thought about having an affair with Paul; there’s rumors about John and David Bowie; that John had let Brian jerk him off and touch him during their trip to Spain [how John claims it wasn’t fully consummated, that is, no intercourse]; John in an interview saying how he hasn’t slept with a man-- but who knows? Life begins at 40!; John saying how Yoko reminded him of a bloke in drag, and how she was basically like a best mate, but it was easier because with her he could fuck her and love her in public; how he was found holding Brian’s hand by George and Pattie and someone else, and made it a note to showcase his holding of Brian’s hand, because being homosexual was still illegal then-- and there was John, trying to show that “yeah it’s okay.”; and there’s probably much more stories about John when it came to his sexual leaning towards men, though most have probably died with close friends and lovers.

Now, I think what happens is that these people forget the context surrounding John’s life; he wasn’t born in today’s world, he was born in the 40s and raised in the 50s-- being homosexual was illegal, and taught as something shameful, wrong, sick. Even though the boys were relatively very open and ahead of their time, they still grew up in all that, and so of course they still had ignorance and “fear” of homosexuality, of being anything but the expected standard of masculinity.

John wasn’t the only one who mocked or teased Brian about being gay-- the other boys did it too, though moreso behind his back. John only did this when he was in a very sour mood though, as he did with anyone, he’d hone in on what was considered a sore spot, or weakness of theirs, and jab at it. He’d never mean anything by it though, and would often go talk to them afterwards an try to explain that-- his roundabout way of “apologizing,” that he never meant it, he was only joking, and he might hug them. No one was really safe from John’s sharp tongue when he got into those low points, aggressive and biting. John loved Brian, absolutely did, Brian was a very important paternal figure in John’s life as John never had a good one. When Brian died it devastated all of them, especially John, because again he had lost a very close male friend, too soon or too young, they’d always leave him. John loved Brian, and if anyone tries to tell you otherwise, they’re either lying or ignorant themselves.

Now, I think it was actually pretty important for John to tell that story about beating up Bob Wooler, and be as honest as he could about the whole thing, and owned up to his rather intolerant reaction to someone suggesting John was “a queer,” essentially [this was indeed after going off with Brian to Spain, so really everyone had been making sly comments– but that time around, John was drunk, and Drunk John is not at all sensible or cool]

“Bob had been insinuating that me and Brian had had an affair in Spain. And I must have been frightened of the fag in me to get so angry. I was out of my mind with drink - you know, when you get down to the point where you want to drink out of all the empty glasses; that drunk. And Bob was saying, ‘Come on, John, tell me about you and Brian - we all know.’ You know when you’re twenty-one, you want to be a man - if somebody had said it now I wouldn’t give a shit, but I was beating the shit out of him, hitting him with a big stick, and for the first time I thought, ‘I can kill this guy.’ I just saw it, like on a screen: if I hit him once more, that’;s going to be it. I really got shocked. That’s when I gave up violence, because all my life I’d been like that.”

- John Lennon, 1972 Anthology [x]

I think it says a lot, you know, John claiming he was afraid of the fag in him-- I mean, wouldn’t that mean that John knew a part of him was queer then? I think this was part of John confessing, though again, barely anyone caught onto it around that time. This is where I think John was projecting, and most of the ‘’homophobic’’ behavior he showcased was simply a product of internalized homophobia/biphobia.

Also apparently John was INCREDIBLY, horribly remorseful and ashamed of what he had done to Bob-- I think he had gone to him and tried to apologize and show how sorry he was, how ashamed.

I haven’t heard anything about John trashing the movie because of it being homosexual, so I can’t say much about that.

So yeah, my conclusion is that a lot of what John did or said was a product of not only his upbringing/society and of internalized homophobia/biphobia.

John grew up as a musician and individual in the “gay” scene, had many gay and bisexual friends from the industry, seemed to adore and love drag queens, was close friends with Elton Jon, David Bowie, Mick Jagger, loved and truly did look up to his manager Brian Epstein, thought it stupid gay people were treated like shite despite their contributions to the culture they all loved, thought Elvis was beautiful and was often caught commenting about it by friends, was always willing to “experiment,” his wife thought he was a bit of a closeted fag, that he would have slept with a man though he had never found one that met his expectations [liar], how his first love was Paul, that he fell for Paul’s looks like everyone else, thought Paul was the prettiest, Yoko claiming John had contemplated having an affair with Paul-- like, the list goes on.

His support and acceptance of LGBT individuals was there long before Yoko-- so I wouldn’t really put the two in the same area, that being, yeah the whole political-era and “Peace and Love,” was brainwashing and influenced by Yoko, but not his beliefs towards the LGBT.

Also, bisexual was seen as ‘’trendy’’ as, you see, bisexuality was actually considered a bit of a “new” thing; you were either gay or straight, even if you loved both men and women, you were considered a queer. I think that also messed with John’s already confused and frustrated view of his sexuality. And before that, it was considered a Bohemian Lifestyle-- try everything, sleep with men and women.

I think if anything, John was possibility irritated with the fact bisexuality was considered a trend.

I dunno, I try to remember the period and cultural context when talking about John, or anyone really, because it’s not very fair to judge them based on today’s culture and societal acceptance. It’s easy for us to judge them, not to try and understand them.

#questionsquestionsquestions #john lennon

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raywritesthings · 4 years

Text

Still Believing

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Sebastian Blood, Slade Wilson Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen (Pre-Relationship) Summary: Oliver isn't quite as quick to dismiss Laurel's accusations against Sebastian Blood and learns the truth about the alderman's allegiances as a result, forcing him to change his approach towards the woman he loves. *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in bio*

Oliver sat on a roof, watching the front of Sebastian Blood’s campaign office, and thanked his luck that Digg had gone home early to watch AJ for Carly. He knew exactly what the other man would be saying about his choice to monitor his recently made friend in light of the revelation about Officer Daily only hours ago at the Starling City Cannery. But he wasn’t quite as ready as everyone else to give up Laurel’s hunch just yet.

There was too much that didn’t make sense. Blood’s missing file, the fact that the Man in the Skull Mask had kidnapped Laurel after her accusations against Blood and the fact that he’d abruptly gone so public after weeks of Oliver’s fruitless questions and searching.

Daily being the man underneath the mask was just convenient. Too convenient, and it answered nothing about where the mirakuru was and who had supplied the recipe. It smacked of a cover-up, a fall guy.

Hadn’t he and Diggle pulled the same move only last year? Suspicions got a little too close and he arranged for Digg to go out as the Hood. Their plan had gone off without the complication of Diggle dying from it, of course, but the principle was the same; make everyone including the person accusing him think they were wrong, even when they were right.

Laurel herself had compared Oliver and Sebastian only recently, saying how she wasn’t quite sure she knew the real them. And she wasn’t exactly wrong in Oliver’s case, so why would she feel the same about Sebastian unless it was true? Particularly when Oliver thought he knew what she’d been feeling regarding his newest friend.

“I will take care of Laurel,” the alderman had said, and Oliver had felt something off about it, hadn’t he? That wasn’t a blind spot. That was gut instinct, the kind he had honed on the island to warn him when he was in danger. Only it hadn’t been about him this time, it had been Laurel.

She’d been well and truly taken care of, hadn’t she? Discredited, fired, and forced to kill. If Daily had been the one behind it all, raiding her apartment for the drugs she’d taken would have been enough to silence her. Why even risk his life?

Oliver knew Laurel wasn’t in a good space right now, that most were willing to dismiss her as an unreliable witness. She needed help, but if Daily wasn’t really the Man in the Skull Mask then she and countless others were still in danger. He owed it to her and the people of this city to be certain beyond a doubt that Sebastian didn’t still have some role to play.

Down on the street, there was movement as Sebastian left his campaign office with three other men in tow. They got into a car driven by a fourth man that was parked out front and pulled away from the curb. Oliver quickly descended from the roof to his bike stowed in an alley and followed at a safe distance.

It would be easier if Felicity were on the comms to follow Sebastian’s car on CCTV, but she likely quietly agreed with Digg, so Oliver couldn’t involve either of them until he had proof. It was a good thing he was practiced at tailing the old fashioned way.

Sebastian’s car pulled up outside an otherwise unremarkable office building, and he and his entourage entered it. Almost all the lights were out in the building, so it was easy to see just where they might be headed for. Oliver made his way around the building, onto the roof, and rappelled down between windows, staying out of sight flush against the brick.

He stopped his descent when he was level with the office still lit with a single lamp and only managed to make out Sebastian’s voice because the man shouted with such clear relief.

“It's done! They think it was all Daily. He sacrificed himself for our cause.”

So it had been a setup after all. Laurel hadn’t been wrong. But then, was Sebastian truly the Man in the Skull Mask, or was he merely reporting back to the real one?

Oliver heard the low murmur of a voice he could not quite make out, yet something about its timbre sent a shiver down his spine. The next thing he heard was the unsheathing of a sword.

Several gasps and grunts of pain followed, bodies hitting the floor. Oliver chanced just the briefest look and nearly froze at the sight.

Slade.

It couldn’t be real. He flattened himself against the brick again, willing himself to stop seeing ghosts. It couldn’t be Slade in there mercilessly slaughtering the men Sebastian had brought along with him. Slade was dead. Had to be.

Yet his one-time friend’s voice continued to taunt him through the glass. “Your incompetence has now cost you four lives, alderman. Fail me again, and yours will be the fifth.”

It couldn’t be a hallucination. Hallucinations didn’t cause real damage, kill real people. Hallucinations didn’t provide a radical alderman with a sample of the mirakuru that he could turn into a new batch for a new legion of super soldiers. The pieces were all falling into place now, and he was left feeling frightened and a fool.

He should have snapped his old friend’s neck when he’d had the chance, even if the thought roiled his stomach now. How many lives had already been lost because he hadn’t?

Oliver heard heavy footfalls and no more because he fled. If it was Slade, and he caught Oliver here—

What did it matter? He was already caught. Slade had gotten into his city under his nose and begun an operation. One that included Sebastian Blood becoming mayor and Laurel being silenced.

His blood ran cold. Laurel. Slade knew better than any just how much she meant to Oliver. He could have had her killed at the cannery if he’d wanted. Which could only mean he had something worse planned.

Oliver stopped in another alley some streets away, struggling to draw breath. He didn’t know what to do, how to keep her safe. He needed to keep his distance and throw Slade off his game… unless that was what he wanted.

Sebastian had just put Laurel through the last forty-eight hours clearly on Slade’s orders. Slade wanted Oliver to not trust Laurel, to withdraw from her and leave her on her own. What better way to make sure she was unprotected?

Even at her best, Laurel was no match for Slade or a man enhanced with mirakuru. Oliver wasn’t always confident enough to say he was. And Laurel was nowhere near her best these days. He needed to keep her close.

He could visit her as the Arrow, let her know that she had been right, and then… what happened then? Would Laurel want to try and find more evidence? If he told her he would take care of the situation, would she even listen? She’d be more likely to go out there on her own than to just take his word for it. What was the word of a faceless man, a stranger?

Every instinct rebelled against the conclusion his mind was drawing. Laurel wasn’t supposed to be part of this side of things. She was supposed to be safe. Yet even thinking that, he could see that wasn’t the reality. The reality was Laurel was mired in all kinds of danger, from Slade to Sara’s League, and all he had succeeded in was keeping her ignorant of it.

Could he really do it? Change everything about his approach for over a year and try a new way? There was every chance she would never forgive him, but a greater chance that she would come out of this alive.

Oliver swallowed down his fear and nerves and changed directions, taking his bike further downtown instead of back towards the base.

---

Laurel dragged her feet as she entered her apartment, leaving all the lights off as she set her things down and settled on the couch. She did not have the desire to do anything but sit in the dark with her own thoughts and failures.

How could she have been so wrong? Everything had felt like it was pointing at Sebastian; his mother’s confession and subsequent death, the missing file, just the sense of unease she got around him, like there was so much more to his vision for the city he wasn’t sharing. Like Malcolm before him, she thought she could sense an undercurrent of rage to his passionate rhetoric.

Maybe she’d just wanted to be able to unmask the mastermind before it was too late, since none of them had managed it last year. Maybe she was just balking at anyone getting too close to her right now, and she’d made up some reason in her head for why she shouldn’t get close to Sebastian after all. Maybe she was just a useless addict like her father and everyone else thought she was.

How had it come to this? She’d just wanted the pain to dull a little, not to question her own perceptions of her life. Why had she been so… weak?

She wanted to tell herself that this was the wakeup call. Time to get back up and put an end to all this spiralling. But what did she have to really make an effort for anymore? No job, barely anything like friends, a disappointed father, a wreck of a love life… was there a point to get better, when there wasn’t much of a better she could expect in return?

Her lights already being off, just the slightest click of the latch on the window was the only warning she had. Laurel staggered up and back, reaching wildly for the desk drawer. Where was — had they taken her gun? “Damnit!”

“It’s just me,” the Hood’s modulated voice spoke, and Laurel felt her breath release as she slowly turned back around. He was standing there, bow strapped to his back and both hands held up. Her head slowly shook side to side.

“I didn’t think you’d come see me, after what I did.”

“You really think I can judge you for killing a man in a fight?”

If she were in a better mood, she might have smirked at that. He had a point. “No, but… I was wrong.”

“You weren’t.”

Laurel froze. “What do you mean?”

Slowly, he walked closer. “I took the liberty of following Sebastian Blood tonight. He met with an associate and told him that Daily played his part in their plan. He was just a decoy.”

Her fingers trembled. A part of her wanted to deny it — how could Daily be that fanatically loyal to a man or a cause that he would throw his own life down just to discredit one lone drunk? Just what could Sebastian be building? A part of her ran both hot and cold at once. How dare they take away what little she’d had to keep going for just to take away her voice!

“Who’s his associate?” If she knew that, she’d know more about what Sebastian was trying to do, how to stop it.

But the Arrow hesitated. “Someone dangerous.”

“Oh.” Laurel’s eyes closed. She should have seen this coming. “You’re saying goodbye again.” It was what everyone did, wasn’t it?

“No.”

She wondered if she had heard that right and opened her eyes. This close, she could see the Arrow’s mouth twist in a conflicted frown, one that seemed so achingly familiar if only she could just think straight for a minute.

“This man knows me. He knows who matters to me. No amount of removing myself from your life will change that.”

Laurel’s stomach did a strange sort of flip flop. She had always maintained there was nothing more to her relationship with the Arrow than a mutual desire to see justice done, at least whenever they were on good terms. To hear him say she mattered when she’d been doubting it herself… But she needed to keep focused.

“What are you saying?” She prompted him, hoping it sounded at least somewhat gentle. She didn’t want to spook him.

“I’m saying that I don’t know a better way to keep you safe than to tell you the truth. And I’m sorry.” There was the slightest beep of some kind of device, and then he reached up and pulled down his hood.

Even in the dark of her apartment, he was unmistakable. Laurel’s back hit the shelf behind her with a gasp, a trembling hand going to her temples.

“Ollie?”

He stared at her, his eyes still shadowed by the mask he wore. He said nothing, seeming to realize she needed a moment.

She needed more than that. She needed a drink or something because she- she’d hunted him. She’d blamed him for Tommy’s death no matter how much of a projection of her own guilt it had been. He’d probably thought he deserved it, too, and yet he’d still saved her from the Dollmaker. He’d still shown up when she’d called for help about her suspicions towards Sebastian. Because he still cared.

So much of the vigilante’s actions became clear to her in that moment with just that realization. All the times she had wondered why her, or what he really thought of her, why he seemed to want to work together and yet held her at arm’s length.

She reached out now, slowly, and he let her touch his shoulder. She needed to feel the leather of the suit he wore, the hard muscle underneath, to know he was solid and real. Before she knew it, she was hugging him.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, and wasn’t fully sure what she was even referring to. All the times he’d saved her? Everything he’d done for the city? Finally just telling her what was going on?

He brought his arms around her slowly, and his cheek rested on the top of her head for a moment that stretched between them. She wasn’t sure what happened when either of them moved, and a part of her didn’t really want to. She felt safe and warm in a way she hadn’t for all that time since the Undertaking, and she didn’t want it to go away.

“You’re really okay with this?” He wondered aloud.

She shrugged in his hold. “I always knew the Arrow was someone under that hood, and that he wasn’t choosing to share that with me. I guess now I can see why you had a reason.” He’d been unwilling to take risks with her safety last year after Vanch, not because he didn’t think she was cut out for it, but because she meant more to him than just being a good lawyer. She was important to somebody in this world.

Of course, her tired and dazed mind eventually remembered why he was even telling her this now. Laurel slowly tilted her head back to look at him. “Who is it that Sebastian’s working with and why does it worry you this much?”

She watched him swallow, eyes not quite meeting hers. “His name is Slade Wilson, and he’s… someone I knew on the island. Someone I thought was dead.”

Laurel shivered. “Was he one of the people who tortured you?” It was one of those things she couldn’t help recalling every so often, even though she hated thinking about it. About the pain he endured for all those years.

Oliver hesitated, then nodded. “For some of it. Before that, we were friends. And I… I showed him this.”

He let her go, and Laurel hugged her arms to herself at the loss of contact, watching as he withdrew something from one of the pockets of his suit. Her heart jumped into her throat.

It was the photograph. The silly little wallet-sized photograph her dad had gotten copies made of after her college graduation. He’d said it mattered more than high school anyway. Laurel had rolled her eyes at the time, but snuck a copy to take down with her to the docks, to give as a favor to the boy who’d captured her heart.

And he still had it. Had both, really. Through a shipwreck and five years of who knew what Hell, he had hung onto that photo. She’d never realized he would’ve wanted to keep it.

“Slade knows what you mean to me, Laurel, and what he’s here for is more than just to plot with Sebastian. He wants revenge, and he will use anything and anyone I care about to get to me. But most especially you. I’m so sorry.”

It was like something had snapped in her, the jagged broken bits of her fitting back into place, and she could breathe again. Could think and feel like a normal person again. Her lonely mess of a life had some sense to it at last, and she felt more like the woman she remembered herself to be. So Laurel shook her head.

“I haven’t been hurt yet, Ollie. Yes, I’ve lost my job, but that wasn’t because of you. It was because of what I was doing to uncover Sebastian’s secrets. It would’ve happened whether this Slade Wilson was in town or not.” She had to wonder just where and how Sebastian fit into this revenge scheme Oliver was talking about, but that was something they could figure out. “They probably think I’ve been taken care of, so I’m safe.”

“I don’t know for how long,” he insisted miserably. “Slade will come after you.”

“Then I’ll defend myself.”

He shook his head. “He’s stronger than anyone I know, Laurel. Including me. And…” he paused, looking uncomfortable, before saying, “you’re not well.”

She looked down at herself. The thin, frail arms. Her clothes that seemed to swallow up her slight form. Had she really let it get this far? Some of the fear and shame from before when her father had turned his back on her in the interrogation room welled back up within her, stinging her eyes, but she pushed it down.

“I can get better.”

“Really?” He sounded afraid to hope. She could relate to that feeling.

“Really. I- I thought I was alone, that you and my dad were just acting out of obligation or something. That I’d ruined everything with the Arrow… I didn’t think anyone could still believe in me.”

He’d followed Sebastian just to prove her right. He’d seen some kind of worth in pursuing it, no matter how messed up and irrational of a person she seemed to everyone else.

“I don’t want to let that down, and I don’t want to just lay down and die for some maniac with a grudge match against you. I’ll get better,” she promised.

His shoulders relaxed with a small smile, and he pulled her close again. “Thank God.” His lips pressed to her forehead for a breath.

“Ollie…”

“Yeah?”

Laurel didn’t speak. She wanted to ask just what she did mean to him that had him so worried about this Slade Wilson, but it didn’t feel like the right time. This was so new, and she had so much work to do to get back into a good place for herself. So she just held his forearms a little tighter.

“Thank you.”

She wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, just breathing in the quiet space between them. It was one of those rare moments in her life she didn’t want to end. But she was starting to have trouble keeping her eyes open.

“You should get some rest,” Oliver said, as if reading her thoughts.

“So should you. You’re the one with a job to go to in the morning.”

“You’re gonna find something,” he said immediately. “I’ll help.”

She actually believed him. The Oliver who had returned from the island seemingly full of good intentions but empty promises had only been half the story. Now that she knew what lengths he went to for this city, she thought she could start to trust him again.

They pulled away from each other, Laurel reaching out one last time to cup his cheek, her thumb rubbing the edge of the mask he was still wearing. “You’re okay now?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be okay until Slade’s been stopped,” he admitted. “But I feel much better than I did. Thank you.”

She smiled. It had been a while since she’d felt like she could actually help someone. It felt good. “Goodnight, Ollie.”

“Goodnight, Laurel.”

She walked to her hallway but paused there and watched as he put the hood back up and left through her apartment window, stealing across rooftops into the night. The vigilante; her oldest friend; the man she — despite telling herself she shouldn’t — loved. Life was starting to make sense again.

She would call her dad in the morning and ask him what she needed to do to get herself out of this path she’d gone down the same as him. Just picturing the relief it would give him had her smiling. She could be more than a burden or an annoyance to people. She was more than a bunch of failures.

Those thoughts echoing in her head like a mantra, Laurel turned in for the night, re-determined to take on the world come the morning.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #oliver queen #laurel lance #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing

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firelord-frowny · 4 years

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I saw a Post about like ~symbolism~ in literature and how a lot of folks kinda instinctively balk at the idea of it in a “cigar is just a cigar” kind of way and it got me thinking some thinkey thoughts that i’ve thought for a long time and like

For the most part I think people who dismiss that kind of stuff so quickly are just, plain and simple, people who don’t care much about writing as an art form anyway. Sometimes literature just isn’t someone’s favorite way to experience art, and so they don’t feel invested in devoting any amount of brain power to interpreting things beyond what they see on the page. And that’s fine! That’s how I am with most visual art. I just say “ooh, pretty” and leave it at that. I don’t really know or care much about the meaning or intent or what certain colors represent or why the subject has a certain expression on their face. I’m sure an actual artist or someone who’s just passionate about art would be all over that shit! Analyzing and appreciating and theorizing. But for me, it really isn’t that deep. Either I like it or I don’t like it, and I carry on with my day. And if someone insisted that it’s imperative that I learn how to ~interpret~ art, I’d probably be hella frickin annoyed. I mean, would it be a good skill to have? Sure! Any skill, no matter how obscure, has the potential to come in handy in life. But like. We don’t all have the time, energy, or ability to become adept in Every Skill Ever. We pick and choose what matters to us most, and we don’t worry so much about the other stuff. So, that’s how I think a lot of folks feel about literature, and I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing that that’s the case. Some people just! Aren’t interested!

And for me, as a writer, I can honestly attest with 1000% certainty that I never once have intentionally included symbolism of any kind at all whatsoever.... and yet it’s still there. It happens ALL. THE. TIME. where I read over something I wrote years ago and discover large and small ways that I, without even realizing it, used various kinds of symbolism in lots of places. Some examples:

As a character’s mental/emotional state deteriorates over the course of the story, their living space gets more and more cluttered

As a character becomes more detached from their friends and family, their living space becomes more and more barren

A fire (candle, fireplace, campfire, etc) gradually burns itself out as a heated conflict is resolved between two or more characters

A character’s profession as a photographer highlights his feeling of detachment from the world - the world “happens” around him, but he can’t engage with it. He’s the cameraman - not the subject.

Golden Gate Bridge representing two opposite things - gates of heaven, and bridge/road to hell

A character gets abducted by aliens - the character is named after a biblical figure who ~went to heaven while alive~ (I’m honestly BAFFLED at how I managed to coincidentally give the character the name that I did, because I legitimately know jack shit about the bible lmfao. It’s never been important to me to research names before I name a character, because actual parents don’t name their children with foreknowledge of what their future will entail. So I just name them Whatever.)

A character hates thunderstorms. Thunderstorms = unresolved fears and traumas. Thunder/lightning/wind/heavy rain are emphasized in moments where the character must confront their traumas.

A wise, calm character frequently drinks tea. Other characters, when experiencing moments of clarity, are drinking tea, too

Threadbare bedsheets symbolizing how time wears things down

Two characters on opposite sides of a doorway - one side, outdoors, is dark and cold and dreary. The other side, indoors, is light and warm and homey. Symbolizes each character’s current place in life.

An untrustworthy character always approaches people from behind

A character happens to be standing near a window every time they mention wanting to be free or every time they feel cornered and want to escape

A character who’s turning their back on their friends and family throws away their welcome mat

A character whose friends and family are never there for them has a welcome mat that still looks brand new after years of no one coming to visit

Character A allows character B to wear her deceased husband’s coat - character B can still smell the husband’s sweat in the coat. The husband’s presence still lingers in character A’s life.

The steps of the Lincoln Memorial represent neutral ground. I don’t even know why, but all my scenes that take place at the Lincoln Memorial deal with characters meeting there to bury a hatchet between them.

A character, Steven, symbolizes reality. Madison is an untrustworthy narrator bc he’s just fuckin insane, and Nixon is untrustworthy because he’s biased by his feelings for Madison, but Steven’s perspective is always fact-based, and he has very few personal opinions. Steven sets the record straight.

Nixon = inner peace and unconditional love

Franky = confidence and authenticity

Andromeda galaxy = hope for a better future

Noise = Madison’s current state of mind. Scenes in which he’s overwhelmed and stressed include vivid descriptions of all the sounds around him. Scenes where he’s calm and collected have little to no emphasis on sound.

Madison’s friend gives him a tattoo of a solar eclipse - Madison wonders if he’s meant to be the sun, or the moon in front of it.

Tactile sensation = scenes where Madison feels safe and comfortable emphasize physical sensations like softness and warmth and smoothness.

Light = Moments of clarity tend to take place in sunlight, especially surrounded by shadow

Dark = Moments of fear or uncertainty take place in darkened areas

Characters that bring negative energy tend to stand in a location that blocks light and casts significant shadow

Characters that bring positive energy bring light into a room, perhaps by opening a door, pulling back the curtains, or literally just turning the lights on

There’s just??? A lot. And none if it is something I do ~on purpose~ in the sense that I didn’t just sit there and go “Ah, yes, this character feels like an outsider who can’t interact with the world, so I’ll make him a photographer.” It just... happens that way. It’s not something I ever consciously practiced or studied or strove for. It’s just what comes out of my brain when I sit and let a scene play out in my head. I emphasize noise when Madison is overwhelmed because that’s just what I experience when I watch the scene in my head. The welcome mat is unused just because when I watch my character coming home and the “camera” pans downward, an unused welcome mat is what I see there. When character B put on character A’s dead husband’s coat and he smelled the sweat, that’s just... what happened! That’s just how it played out in my head!

It’s not intentional, but it’s there, and it’s there just because it felt like it should be there. And I’m acutely aware that some people aren’t going to catch those things, or they’ll interpret it differently, or they’ll hone in on completely different details that I would have never noticed, but are in fact right there on the page.

And I think that’s the fun thing about writing and about storytelling and about art in general. We can convey our vision as vividly as possible, we can go so far out of our way to take the reader/observer exactly where we want them to go, but we don’t really have any control over what they ultimately see or think or feel. It could be meaningless to them, or they can draw conclusions you never meant for them to draw. They can uncover your biases and weaknesses and insecurities, your prejudices, your fears. They can completely miss the point, or they can discover things you tried to keep hidden. It’s all fair game. And that’s! What I love about it! What I intend��my work to be is obviously important to me, but someone else is only really going to care about what my work meant to them, and it’s almost definitely not going to be exactly what had in mind. I think that’s fuckin great. I think that’s the only way I know how to connect with other humans.

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