#semantic maps

[linguisticillustrations]

Table with the partinioning of the TREE-WOOD-FOREST semantic domain.

Georgakopoulos, Thanasis & Stéphane Polis. 2018. The semantic map model: State of the art and future avenues for linguistic research. Language and Linguistics Compass 12(2). e12270. https://doi.org/10.1111/lnc3.12270.

[linguisticdiscovery]

The many senses of run

How do you define the word run? You probably think of something like ‘fast pedestrian motion’, but what about the use of run in these examples? There are three boats that run from the mainland to the Island On my way to the elevator, I ran into Pete the bench, which numerous times rebuked the Attorney General for letting his witnesses run on The tears ran down my face Colors on the towels…

[processes]

“diverse christianity”

are you fucking….

Religious Diversity Across the USA

[adventism-atheism-orthodoxy-me]

Alfred Habdank Skarbek Korzybski

"A map is not the territory it represents, but, if correct, it has a similar structure to the territory, which accounts for its usefulness."

One day, Korzybski was giving a lecture to a group of students, and he interrupted the lesson suddenly in order to retrieve a packet of biscuits, wrapped in white paper, from his briefcase. He muttered that he just had to eat something, and he asked the students on the seats in the front row if they would also like a biscuit. A few students took a biscuit. "Nice biscuit, don't you think," said Korzybski, while he took a second one. The students were chewing vigorously. Then he tore the white paper from the biscuits, in order to reveal the original packaging. On it was a big picture of a dog's head and the words "Dog Cookies." The students looked at the package, and were shocked. Two of them wanted to vomit, put their hands in front of their mouths, and ran out of the lecture hall to the toilet. "You see," Korzybski remarked, "I have just demonstrated that people don't just eat food, but also words, and that the taste of the former is often outdone by the taste of the latter."

-- R. Diekstra, Haarlemmer Dagblad, 1993, cited by L. Derks & J. Hollander, Essenties van NLP (Utrecht: Servire, 1996), p. 58.

[inflagrante-delicatessen]

me: [gets degree in linguistics then proceeds to only use it for the increasingly rare online baby fight, word crimes, and creating The Horrors]

also me: hehehe puns

[dougielombax]

Can we please STOP referring to Britain and Ireland as the “British isles”.

It’s an outdated, antiquated term born of irredentism and colonial thinking. Small minded “rule Britannia” bullshit believed by stupid old men and frightened old women who start shrieking into their glasses, shitting in their britches, quaking in their boots, gibbering in fear, whimpering in fright, and roaring in terror if you do so much as mention Sinn Fein.

Be rid of it!

Starting yesterday!

[maniculum]

Medieval Scorpions Effortpost

So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:

The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".

Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.

As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".

Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.

See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:

That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?

So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.

And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.

*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.

Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.

And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.

11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)

12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)

12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)

12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)

13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)

13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)

13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)

13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)

13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)

13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)

13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)

13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)

14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)

14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)

14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)

15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)

I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.

[prokopetz]

"Turn-based roguelikes going graphical is bad because old school ASCII user interfaces are so much more transparent and accessible" yeah, I love guessing which of three or four completely different things a given ASCII character represents this time. Having the screen transform unrecognisably between one turn and the next and trying to figure out what the fuck just happened by combing through a log file which somehow manages to be both cryptically terse and exhaustingly verbose at the exact same time is fun and enriching. Being forced to choose between navigating a menu system that puts hyper-specific commands you will literally never use at the top level while nesting commands you'll be using constantly four layers deep, and resorting to non-rebindable hotkeys whose semantic mappings were evidently designed by someone whose native language is Klingon? Genuinely the highlight of my day.

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

Still be here in the morning?

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*

Author's Note: This started off as a smut thing but became a whole story thing so enjoy ;D

It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.

You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.

"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.

"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.

"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"

"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."

"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"

"I'm aware."

"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."

"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."

"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"

Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"

You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."

"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."

"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."

After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.

To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.

He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.

A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.

"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.

"What do you want, Mouse?"

"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."

"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.

"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.

"Make me."

"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.

"I said, make me, Lantsov."

"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.

Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.

"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.

"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.

"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."

Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.

"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.

Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."

He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.

He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.

He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."

His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.

Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.

Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."

"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.

He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.

Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.

Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.

"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.

Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.

You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.

You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.

Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.

His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.

"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.

"Why would I be mad?"

"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.

"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"

"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.

You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

You shook your head.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded your head.

"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"

You hesitated.

"Well, we've found our problem."

"You don't love me."

"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.

"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."

"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.

You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"

"Honey, you drive me wild."

You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.

You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.

A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."

You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.

fin.

[linguisticillustrations]

A semantic map of the knowledge domain - different types of knowing/not knowing. Figure 1.2 on page 9 in:

Sjöberg, Anna. 2023. Knowledge predication: A semantic typology. Department of Linguistics, Stockholm University. https://urn.kb.se/resolve?urn=urn:nbn:se:su:diva-221698.

[squidthoughts]

why doesn't shin leave?

that's the question, right? there are secondary ones, of course – why didn't she kill sabine/was she sandbagging their duel/did she intentionally perform a nonfatal stabbing/was she sent there to interact with sabine at all, or just for the map.... but really, my question at the end of ep1 was:

why is she waiting here at all?

"we've been looking for this," shin says, and that's what, an accusation? conversation-starter? she's here to talk? maybe, okay – except she's actively thieving, so what can she be expecting by sticking around but a fight? so she secures the map and she waits for sabine. to fight her. but the question is still why and in my unqualified opinion i think the answer is found back here:

"ahsoka tano's former apprentice is on lothal."

what do we know about baylan? he was a jedi, once. he witnessed the purge of his order and adapted to a life of survival – he maintains certain jedi traditions, he passes these traditions to his padawan: the braid, the traditional construction of the lightsaber, if not the crystal inside (standing mystery, though). he is nostalgic but not melancholy, connected perhaps to the more elegant and noble history of the jedi but evidently strongly opposed to assuming that title at present.

what do we know about shin? well...almost nothing. except that when baylan speaks, shin listens. she obeys unquestioningly. when morgan speaks, shin watches baylan. they are close; there is mutual trust, though clearly more dependency on shin's side. and she is likely – though not certainly – born after order 66.

i'm confident answers will be forthcoming about shin's past, but in the meantime, working with the (very!!) little we have, assuming the subtle intricacies of the shot direction and ivanna's acting are all intentional, and with the full disclaimer that im brainrotty for wolfwren......i want to answer my original question.

shin has never seen another apprentice before. beyond baylan and inquisitors (apparently), she has probably never seen another lightsaber-wielder before. and yet – her master, while scorning the label of jedi, is steeped in jedi history. he seems to be training her according to some traditional jedi principles (though...what with the mass-murder and the mercenary work, of course we don't yet know the extent of those principles), and it would follow that he would have imparted the history of the jedi as well.

baylan skoll is not a jedi. but ahsoka tano is. or, was. but the antagonist squad refers to her as a jedi, so from shin's perspective it's not just "ahsoka tano's apprentice" on lothal. she is being told there is a real, live jedi apprentice on lothal.

and the jedi are extinct.

we're into the rampant speculation part of the meta now, because what is shin thinking in this moment?

there's a green lightsaber before her – a jedi apprentice before her – or at least the former-apprentice-of-a-jedi, but shin is the apprentice-of-a-former-jedi, and at some point the semantics get in the way of the exhilaration. this is probably (again, this whole thing could get disproven in the next episode or something) the first lightsaber battle shin has ever had with someone who might actually kill her. (i assume baylan wouldn't engage in prolicide while sparring.)

this is, i think, shin at her most excited. on the one hand – it's another apprentice! it's another member of an order (her order??) that was supposed to be wiped out! this is proof of concept maybe, that shin isn't so alone! and on the other hand – this is a test, no? like, the first real test of shin's full abilities, assuming she's never dueled before? again, i wish we knew more about her motivations, but it stands to reason a padawan that powerful and devoted would constantly be looking for ways to both prove and improve herself, right?

and then. sabine. sucks.

she's sloppy and weak and doesn't use the force. she's untrained and undisciplined and slow and gets tired too quickly.

shin starts blocking with one hand. she starts sidestepping sabine's wild swings. there's no way she's is trying to kill her at this point; shin is playing with her food.

i just...think she's disappointed?? like, she was probably expecting so much more from a proper jedi's apprentice, and i think we'd need more information about her to extrapolate what exactly she wants in this scene, but i'd be willing to bet it wasn't this sub-par, former-apprentice bitch-ass fight. (love to sabine but like. she did get her clock cleaned. obviously.)

regardless, i am excited to see how this experience influences the forestfight™ we know is on the way...and also if sabine, like, feels...anything....about being skewered like a county fair corn dog?? i mean trauma or anger or fear or drive or?? bc we know shin wasn't actually trying to kill her, (this is my official stance and im sticking to it) but sabine sure doesn't!!

[absolutebl]

Hello! I saw you mention this in your post about kink in BL and I'm curious... What do you mean by "linguistically" D/s? The use of titles? Or something beyond that?

Ah yes. So the use of something like phi or hia in Thai BL can be "daddy" coded. Not exactly but similar. If the characters are making a fuss about it in the BL as part of the plot, there's probubly something significantly intimate, sexual, or kinky going on (or all 3) with the language.

Also, if an older uke character swaps down registers (so suddenly uses own name or pom for the I pronoun) that's a sign of sexual submission. See LeonPob in Don't Say No.

You'll see friends tease each other in a flirtatious way with nong as well. Bad Buddy does this. (That a demotion of the person being called nong if they aren't a nong, and sometimes even if they are.)

Similarly hyung in Korean BLs has great power when sunbae is primarily in use prior. I call this "hyung slinging" when the use of the "older brother" honorific is pretty much weaponized for intimacy.

You want to see some serious hyung slinging? Watch Semantic Error.

The way JaeYoung melts whenever SangWoo uses hyung is KEY to their romantic arc. Then during yaja time when JaeYoung gets to use the word hyung on SangWoo, it is DRIPPING with sex appeal. No accident this is right before they kiss.

It's so linguistically kinky it's practically a master class in using a register shift for seduction.

Additionally, different application in the names, registers, and formalities in KBL or JBL (esp in terms of suffixes) is also in play (or given name vs family name) to drive intimacy and sexual tension.

For JBL I go into this grappling in Minato's Laundromat. That's a younger character blatantly courting an older character and the language use goes all over the map in a push and pull of seduction and resistance.

I recently noticed in The 8th Sense (after they become boyfriends) the younger character JiHyun uses JaeWon-ssi (NAUGHTY BOY)- but not to his hyung's face, only when talking about his new lover to himself. It's VERY cute. He does slip in a "ya!"" (in front of his friend), gets reprimanded for it, but not severely. I think this is somewhat allowed in a country bumpkin, but there is definitely an extreme intimacy edge of ownership going on too.

It's a "my boyfriend can use casual language because he may be a brat but he's MY brat and he's the only one who's allowed" kind of thing.

[downbadf0rficppl]

still be here in the morning?

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*

Repost

It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.

You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.

"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.

"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.

"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"

"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."

"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"

"I'm aware."

"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."

"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."

"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"

Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"

You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."

"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."

"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."

After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.

To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.

He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.

A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.

"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.

"What do you want, Mouse?"

"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."

"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.

"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.

"Make me."

"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.

"I said, make me, Lantsov."

"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.

Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.

"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.

"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.

"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."

Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.

"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.

Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."

He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.

He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.

He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."

His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.

Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.

Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."

"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.

He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.

Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.

Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.

"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.

Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.

You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.

You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.

Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.

His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.

"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.

"Why would I be mad?"

"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.

"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"

"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.

You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

You shook your head.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded your head.

"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"

You hesitated.

"Well, we've found our problem."

"You don't love me."

"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.

"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."

"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.

You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"

"Honey, you drive me wild."

You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.

You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.

A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."

You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.

fin.

buy me a coffee

[fruityyamenrunner]

could one of you rats please check this out and report why, or if, the computer has phallus et manque as core signifiers ty

[engie-ivy]

“About bloody time! Merlin, I’m glad it’s finally out in the open! I’ve been telling Sirius to come clean about his feelings for you, and just tell you how madly in love he is, for like a year now.”

James forgets mistletoe is a thing and jumps to conclusions.

Keep Kissing Me Under the Mistletoe

Merry Christmas - Ed Sheeran and Elton John

James checks the clock.

It’s almost twenty past three, which means Remus is almost twenty minutes late. James is supposed to help him with his Transfiguration essay, and it’s nothing like Remus to forget.

James wishes, not for the first time, he brought the Map, so he could check where the hell Remus is. He’s just about to leave when Remus comes rushing into the library.

“Sorry, Prongs! I got... hold up.”

James stares at Remus. “Blimey, Moony! What the hell happened to you?”

Remus looks flustered, his clothes are ruffled and his hair is messy, sticking up in all directions, like someone has been running their hands through it.

Remus grins a tad awkwardly, trying to look nonchalant, but not quite meeting James’ eyes. “Sirius just kissed me.”

James blinks a couple of times, but then a huge grin breaks out on his face. “About bloody time! Merlin, I’m glad it’s finally out in the open! I’ve been telling Sirius to come clean about his feelings for you, and just tell you how madly in love he is, for like a year now. That guy is so smitten, it was starting to get quite frustrating to watch him pine after you.”

Remus looks at him wide-eyed, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times, before he exclaims “James! We got stuck under that enchanted mistletoe from Mary!”

“Oh,” James says eloquently. “Right. Mistletoe. I had forgotten that was a thing. Strange tradition really, don’t you think so? I wonder who invented it. Or, well, a plant isn’t invented, of course. I mean the tradition. Who would-”

“Can we please go back to the part where you were telling me that Sirius is madly in love with me?!” Remus interrupts.

James taps his chin. “Interesting proposal, but may I counter that with a suggestion that we pretend that never happened instead?”

“Oh no.” Remus places his hands on his hips. “You can’t tell me something like that and then expect me to forget about it!”

“Come on, Moony!” James pleads. “I’ll be the worst best friend ever!”

“Oh no, what did you do now?”

Remus and James turn around to see Sirius standing there, carrying Remus’ Transfiguration book, which he must’ve forgotten in the... consternation.

“Nothing, we were just-”

“James told me you’re madly in love with me!”

“Remus!” James glares at Remus.

“James!” Sirius glares at James. “How could you! I trusted you!”

“It wasn’t like that!” James protests, before angrily turning back to Remus. “You’re twisting my words!”

“It’s literally what you said!”

“Well, taking my words out of context then!”

“What context?”

“The context that I didn’t know there was a mistletoe involved!” James exclaims.

“That’s no context!”

“Yes, it is!”

“How then does it change anything about the meaning of what you said?” Remus demands.

“Maybe not the meaning, but the reasoning behind it.”

“That’s not what ‘taking out of context’ even-”

“By all means!” Sirius says loudly. “Continue your little semantic discussion! If anyone needs me, I’ll be crawling into a hole and dying.”

Remus turns to Sirius and studies him. “So that’s why you were so... enthusiastic under the mistletoe.”

Sirius shrugs. “I thought it’d be my one chance to ever kiss you, so I guess I wanted to make it count. And,” His cheeks slightly redden as he continues. “I was hoping, if I made it really, really good, maybe you’d want to do it more often.” He looks down at his feet before quickly adding “And then marry me in an intimate ceremony in your parents’ backyard, buy a cosy cottage on the Welsh countryside together, adopt five dogs and live happily ever after.”

Remus bursts out laughing. “Oh, Padfoot,” he says, wiping at his eyes. “You’re so wonderfully ridiculous. It might be a bit soon for that last bit, but as for the first one part,” he steps close to Sirius and gently places a hand on his cheek, stroking it softly with his thumb. “I’d say you succeeded pretty well.”

“And it’s all thanks to me!” James exclaims.

Sirius scoffs, but soon finds it’s hard to be mad at James when Remus is leaning in to press his lips against his.

[drsp00n]

Enough time has passed and everyone's wrote their thought pieces about it so I'm gonna chip in with a little bit of my own.

NMH3 is kind of ass in spite of its limitations, not because of them. The priorities are all over the place.

The gameplay loop becomes incredibly repetitive very quickly. I've seen people try to play word games about the semantics of a hallway of enemies across multiple screens being the exact same as a gauntlet in one room, but at least the fucking environment changes instead of being the exact maybe 8 rooms over the course of 100 possible battles.

There's little in the realm of unlocks. You can play the game start to finish without even touching the chip crafting system or the stats tree. No new moves, death glove chips or weapons. All you really need is to raise your attack to deal with the same enemies with just a larger health pool later in the game. Your kit doesn't change from start to finish.

The open world does fucking nothing for me. You could have made one map with less to explore but more to interact with, instead of five barren and flat maps with nothing to do. I know why this is, but I'll get to that in a bit.

The narrative is significantly weaker than TSA which is a huge shame. I'm imagining that they didn't want the characters to be so wordy in fully voice acted cutscenes like they were in TSA, but I would have loved to see more of the IBM style cutscenes if it meant getting to know more about the characters. Everyone just feels so underwritten so you have to fill in the blanks with your own preconceived notions and the stereotypes they're supposed to convey, something people give NMH2 shit for doing with its characters.

Fu and Damon are NOT compelling characters, one's a brat and the other one is a boring evil CEO archetype. They have zero depth, and for the time that they do give them on screen, all they do is bitch about Travis or everyone around them. Travis doesn't seem even interested in either of them beyond killing them for being annoying. Badman was just fridged to establish Fu as a threat, as if fucking killing every single civilian wasn't enough.

The stuff with Henry could have been interesting if the story had given it any kind of significance or time to breathe. I'm with Travis on that one, I really don't fucking care anymore. There's a giant space alien ship up there dude, that seems a little more important right now than our sad crybaby backstory that will go nowhere because NMH4 is never getting made.

And lastly, I think this game is the most suffocated by all the pop culture references. The premise of the game is a reference, the intro of the game is a reference, many of the bosses, side missions and characters are references, the final boss is a reference. All of this is cool in small bits, but it makes me feel like NMH3 has no real identity of it's own. Which leads me to this conclusion:

Suda should really have doubled down and made something weird and different again. Instead we got a game that is flanderizing No More Heroes itself. People like the open world of 1, boom, open world. People hated the combat of TSA, here's 100 fights. Look, it's the mowing grass minigame. Look, it's Destroyman. Look, it's Henry. Look it's a Marvel reference. Look, it's a Miike reference.

It just feels like the weakest of all the games to me. It tries to do a lot, and what it does is not very good. I don't hate it, I've beaten it a couple of times. I just feel like it wasted a lot of it's potential appealing to the loud majority instead of just being a smaller but better experience, but that's just me.