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candychronicles · 4 years ago

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bodyguard // s. todoroki

A/N: my take on the rockstar/band/performer au for bnharem! i’m not a big fan of au’s normally but this one was a lot of fun to write! todoroki is definitely ooc in this one but i took a lot of liberties with his character in order to better fit the au storyline.

CHARACTER PAIRING: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,091

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, gore, fighting, death, oral sex (f!receiving)

SYNOPSIS: you were in it for the money, he was an unhinged popstar. how could you two ever possibly get along?

want to read more rocking stories? click HERE !

the days at work were tiring, the nights even longer, but the pay was good and it was always satisfying to make a grown man cry as you knocked him to his knees and manhandled him away from your client.

Todoroki Shouto, one of the elite, the famed, the rich, and absolutely fucking annoying. sure, he was hot (anyone with an eye could see that) but he was just like everyone else in his industry: a cocky bastard. you didn’t mind his lifestyle too much except when it interfered with his job, like having to pry off whiny people who clung to him like their life depended on it, and for some, it probably did.

his biggest claim to fame was being in a now wildly famous band, namely the main singer. he was charming with a sultry voice and a personality that oozed confidence but he wasn’t always that way. in fact, he was originally a shy, anxiety ridden teen when he first joined, not sure how to use his voice or deal with people coming up to him in the streets. the life he lived was sheltered before that, training under his dad to take over the family business, but when sweet, innocent Todoroki confessed that he much rather be artsy and sing at the age of sixteen, things quickly changed for him. his father, Todoroki Enji, tried to convince him otherwise, told him that he didn’t know how the real world worked and that he would never be successful, but Shouto wouldn’t budge and eventually Enji caved in, or so it seemed.

Enji immediately enrolled Shouto in lessons, instructing him to shape up or ship out. if he couldn’t become successful in the industry, he would take over his father’s business instead, but that didn’t happen. Shouto excelled in lessons, blowing his instructors away with his timbre and control. he was a natural, and frankly, good enough to be a star. they weren’t so concerned with his stoic yet endearing personality. they had broken enough pop stars, molded them to be perfect model citizens, so what was one more?

the plan backfired immensely. as Shouto’s talent grew, Enji seeked out the biggest in the game, convincing them to give his son a chance at stardom. while reluctant, the board agreed, not wanting to piss off one of the most powerful men in Japan but were thoroughly surprised at the fact that his kid didn’t suck at all. in fact, he was actually good, really, really good.

they signed him immediately, whisking him away into the life of fame and fortune at the young age of seventeen. his range, the slight rasp to his tone and the ability to reach into somebody's soul and pluck the very feelings they try to hide so deeply from it’s depths pushed him towards the life of a rockstar. the freedom he had never been able to experience living at home pushed him over the edge and spiraled him out of control.

Todoroki drank, smoked, and fucked his way through cities big and small, getting himself into a lot of trouble along the way. the behavior went on for years, only getting worse as time went on. nobody seemed to be able to get control over the boy with the pretty hair and wild scar. after almost killing several women and one of his bandmates in a drunk driving accident, his team, label, and most importantly his father had enough.

the conversation between the two did not go well. Shouto was now an adult, legally free and clear from his father’s power. he had his own money, enough to live comfortably for awhile, even if he dropped the band, and all of the repressed rage, longing and anger that was pent up from his childhood. he was not stopping his lifestyle for anyone. that was, until you came along.

you were always a scrapper, getting yourself in trouble more times than you could count. it was just in your nature to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves and you spent many days on the playground beating up the bullies who picked on the sweet girl braiding flowers into her hair, or the boy who liked to play with baby dolls instead of trucks.

as you got older, your fights got fewer and farther in between, at least when it came to the public.

when you turned sixteen and kicked some kid who was trying to look up your skirt so hard in the chin that he saw stars, you were approached by a few men who slid you a card and told you if you wanted to make money fighting, come meet them.

you were a dumb kid and instead of running in the opposite direction and telling the police, you showed up at the seemingly dingy door behind the alley of a fairly run down ramen restaurant. knocking on the door and rocking back on your heels, you waited to see what would happen. it took a few seconds before a panel slid open, allowing you to see nothing but someone’s eyes peering at you in the mid-afternoon sun. hesitantly, you raised the business card in your hand, showing it to the person and jumping in surprise as the panel slammed shut and the door creaked open, inviting you in.

you nodded your head politely at who you realized was a rather bulky, burly man, before a woman dressed in a silky black dress plucked the card delicately from your hand and led you through the hallway. when she opened the door, you were taken aback by the scene.

people of all shapes and sizes stood cheering as two rather muscular men fought in an arena across the room. spit and blood flew across the floor as the two pummeled each other over and over again before one tapped out, the other man raising his fist in the air in victory. you stood, gaze fixed on the scene in front of you, blood racing at the thought of you being in the ring.

“addicting, isn’t it?” the woman whispered in your ear, a knowing smile on her face before she gently took you by the sleeve and guided you away from the screams and shouts into a private room that was much quieter.

you sat down in front of a man who was rather tall and thin, graying hair across his head and a clean shaven face.

“so, i heard you’re a good fighter. how good do you think you are?”

“uh-” you stuttered, not sure how to respond, “i think i can kick someone’s ass if i have a reason to.”

“is money a good enough reason for you?”

“money is a nice reward, yeah, yeah it is,” you confirmed, not pondering the question over for a second.

“good, you start on Saturday. come in comfy clothes that you won’t mind getting sweaty and dirty in. you’re my new ace, a secret weapon. give it six months time and you’ll be defeating guys like that out there in seconds.”

and defeat you did. over and over again, men, women, anyone who thought they were better than you were defeated by your own fists. you worked hard and then some, through literal sweat, blood and tears, to reach the status of champion of the underworld by the age of eighteen.

you were a wild card, unpredictable in your stature. you didn’t have hulking muscles and a sturdy frame, but what you did have was speed, the element of surprise, and the ability to calculate in a split second, all of which allowed you to defeat your enemies time and time again. this relative victory didn’t come without your share of sacrifices: hiding the bruises, blackened eyes and bloody lips from your family as you trained relentlessly, having to figure out a way to manage the steady flow of income that started coming your way as you fought in your first official matches, defeat after defeat as you trained, chipping a tooth and having it promptly filled in like nothing happened, having to learn how to disarm and fire a gun, work with knives and most importantly, losing a bit of your empathy along the way.

it came as no surprise when people who were much more powerful and much, much richer started taking an interest in you, placing large bets upon your head at some of the higher staked matches, a feat you worked your way up to after many years. you never failed to disappoint, knowing that these fights were the ones that mattered the most, the ones that brought you, and your boss, the biggest pools of money.

it was at one of these fights on a dreary, rainy night that you met Todoroki Enji, a hulking man that failed to intimidate you. you were used to people his size and bigger thinking he could take advantage of someone like you and it only made you chuckle thinking of how easy it would be to have him on his knees in seconds.

“i’ve made a proposal to your boss that he couldn’t refuse. he said he couldn’t and wouldn’t force you to do anything, but since you’re quite motivated by money, i think you’ll be intrigued by my offer,” he started, sitting down next to you in one of the VIP booths, sliding his business card on the table with a sly smile.

you were interested and entertained him, listening to him ramble about his shitty kid and his bad behavior. amused, you sipped on your drink as you absorbed his rants and whines about the negative reputation his kid was creating for himself, how he abused his freedom and power to the fullest extent and how his life was spiraling out of control.

“what does this have to do with me, exactly?” you finally questioned, setting your drink down and turning to face him, eyes met squarely with his own.

“i’d like to hire you to be his personal bodyguard.”

“sounds like he needs a babysitter, not a bodyguard,” you retorted, getting ready to stand up and move away from this blathering idiot.

when he spit out a number so outrageous, however, you sat back down, now thoroughly intrigued by the situation at hand. satisfied that he had your full attention, he went into details, laying down a fairly thin stack of papers in front of you as you listened to every detail.

“so let me get this straight. i’m to be his personal bodyguard, keep his shitty behavior a little more under control, whip him up into shape sort of situation. that’s it? and i’ll get paid that much for being a glorified babysitter?”

“you will have to protect him, of course. there are some crazy fans out there that climb windows, seduce themselves into his bed, stalk him, chase him down, but i don’t think it’s anything that, with your expertise, you can’t handle.”

you continued to ponder the situation before gesturing him to continue with his story. he rambled for another moment or two before picking up the papers and going over them with you: standard non-disclosure agreements, a detailed list of your job description and a contract agreement that he was subleasing you through your boss.

after a few minutes of reading the contracts over and discussing them with your boss, you agreed to the scenario, locking yourself into what would be a rather entertaining six months.

the first time you met Todoroki, he instantly tried to hit on you, but when his hand lowered down to grab your ass, you had him on his knees with his left hand behind his back before he could even blink. after that encounter, your conversations were curt. he knew what you were here for and he wasn’t about to let you get his way.

what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be so relaxed about the whole situation. he still drank, still partied, fucked almost whatever girl or guy he wanted, but anytime things got too out of hand, you stepped in, firm but gentle, guiding the crying groupies out of his bedroom after their time was over, driving him every time he got too drunk, cutting him off from any supplies when he was getting out of hand and most importantly, keeping him safe during his travels.

he never realized how much danger he was always in until you mitigated the problems with ease. he just assumed that being assaulted on the daily was something that came with being in the public until you broke some robbers finger when they tried to swipe the wallet out of his own back pocket. after that, he almost clung to you like a koala on a tree anytime he was out in public. you provided stability in a time where he was drowning in his own worries.

that didn’t mean he was ever nice to you though. in reality, he was actually sometimes meaner to you, the simple fact that some girl could be stronger than him set him off, always feeling on edge around you. you weren’t necessarily quiet, offering up any and all small bits and pieces about yourself that he ever wanted to know, but he never really knew you: not your last name, where you were from, if you had any siblings, parents, where you went to school, what your job was, who you were on the inside. it bugged him like crazy to know what your favorite color was and that you liked cheese on your ramen but not anything important, anything he wanted to know.

you liked to keep it that way, however, and would stay as friendly yet aloof as possible. this was a job to you, a job that would set you up easy for awhile and gave you a break from fighting for the most part. you wouldn’t admit to yourself that you liked the man more than you would’ve expected. you felt the way he clung to you as fans swarmed him, the way he always looked to you in reassurance as you walked the streets at night, hearing his sobs in the shower, sobs that were so broken and confused. it showed to you a side of him that was vulnerable, that showed emotion.

he broke down towards the end of your stay, realizing a little too late how much easier it was for you to do your job when he was cooperative and nice. in fact, he began to be more open about enjoying your company and spending time with you. it made it harder for you to continue with your job knowing you were falling for the pretty rich boy, for the man you were hired to protect, for the man who looked at you like you could do no wrong but vehemently would deny it. you began enjoying the little moments with him, the stolen glances, the laughing. you didn’t know what changed in him but you were glad he was someone you could get along with. underneath that crazy exterior, he was just a guy who wanted a friend.

your six months came up relatively quickly. it sucked that your cushy job living in five star hotels, eating decadent meals and working out in state of the art facilities would be over soon but you felt yourself getting lazy, weak and losing your rather sharp edge. it was time to get back into the grind and despite your heart panging at the fact that you would leave the pretty boy with the angry and sad heart behind, you were ready to go.

your last night of work consisted of the final show in Tokyo. tens of thousands of guests were set to attend what would be the bands biggest concert ever. you were calm, cool and collected as always, but the singer, not so much.

he spent the day pacing back and forth, warming up his vocals, hydrating himself, stretching and generally doing his best to calm his nerves.

in a rare act of affection, you reached out to grab your hand with his own, looking him dead in the eye and telling him that this night would be one he would remember forever; and you were right, just not for the way either of you thought.

the show went amazing, the crowd loud and receptive, the choreography flawless, the singing perfect. Todoroki ran off stage with the biggest smile he had ever seen and in his own rare display of affection, twirled you around with ease, adrenaline still pumping through his system.

you congratulated him on the great show and waited patiently for him to remove all the makeup and his costume. he emerged a little while later, hair flat against his head, wet from the shower, sweatpants and an inconspicuous gray hoodie donning his body. you bid a pleasant farewell to his bandmates before escorting him back to the car. he had requested that you drive him back to the hotel and spend one final night in the comfortable hotel beds before you headed back to your hometown.

when you arrived, however, things felt quiet, a little too quiet, and the hair stood up on the back of your neck.

“Shouto, you need to get into the driver’s seat right now, turn on the car and lock it. do not let me in until i tell you to. do not get out of the car, okay?”

he began to question you but before he had a chance to argue, you were pushing him out of the way as a knife sliced towards him, figures cloaked in black emerging from the shadows.

one, two, three, four.

you counted out the four assailants as you shoved Shouto against the car, prompting him to unlock and scramble in through the back seat. only when you heard the click of the lock did you breathe a sigh of relief and begin your attack.

the first man with the knife was tall and lanky, using his height to his advantage, trying to overwhelm you, but with a quick kick to the back of his kneecaps, he went tumbling onto his knees. now shorter than you, you were able to control him by grabbing onto the top of his head and slamming it into the ground, effectively knocking him out.

one, two, three.

the next man thought his muscles would save the day, but his size lacked any true speed, and you were able to land fingers to his eyes, a punch square to his nose. a quick chokehold and he was knocked out against the concrete as well.

one, two.

they both came at once, knives flailing in the air as they sliced your way. one managed to gouge out a chunk of flesh in your arm but you paid no mind, too focused on the task at hand as you grabbed the knife with your hand and used the other arm to knock into their elbow, making them loosen their grip enough to let go of the blade that you then embedded into their shoulder. the other assailant took your distraction to swing the knife your way and as you were trying to dodge the serrated edge, used their other fist to swing up into your chin. you felt your teeth chatter against each other, blood mixing with saliva as you bit your tongue. spitting, you slammed your hand down against their wrist, grabbing the knife with your hand and yanking, not caring that it sliced into your palm as you flipped the weapon around to shove it into their abdomen.

with both men distracted, you slammed your fist against the car door, telling Shouto to quickly unlock it so you could get in. when you heard the telltale click, you instantly dove into the backseat, yelling at him to lock it and drive as fast as he could back to the hotel. he did as he was told with an eerie calmness to him, backing out and around the attackers that were attempting to survey the damage that had been dealt to them.

once you had made the relatively quick trip back to the hotel, you hurriedly jumped out of the car, telling Shouto to carry his own bags so you could be on alert if anything were to happen, scanning each and every corner for a possible other attack. thankfully, everything was safe as you made your way into his hotel room.

you dropped him off quietly, not even attempting to walk into his room, but only fifteen minutes had passed before he was knocking on your door, a first aid kit he had gotten from the front desk securely tucked under his arm.

you let him in without a word, locking the door behind you and turning to face him. before you had a chance to ask what he was doing there, he had dragged you into your rather grandiose bathroom, sitting you on the steps leading up to the jacuzzi tub and pulling out the contents of the kit onto the floor.

he began by assessing the damage to your wounds, cleaning and disinfecting them before wrapping both your hand and arm rather efficiently.

“i had to wrap a lot of my own wounds as well as my siblings. dear old dad let the temper get the best of him sometimes and it wasn’t always so pretty,” he explained, teeth clenching together in an attempt to remain calm.

“thanks for this. i’m sure they’ll heal just fine,” you replied, not wanting to put him in a situation where he had to talk about his troubling past.

“you could’ve died protecting me today, you know?”

“that’s my job Todoroki. i was hired to protect you, i protected you, and i’m fine, thank you very much. this is not my first fight and it definitely won’t be my last.”

he sighed, rubbing his temples as he sat down on the marble floor in front of you, holding your wounded hand in his own, tracing the fabric that surrounded your palm.

“i recognized one of the cars in the parking lot. it was a company car, one of my dad’s cars to be precise. i know they can seem relatively inconspicuous but i memorized every car my dad ever had, big or small. it was definitely his car.”

you mulled over his words for a moment before sighing yourself, slumping against the stairs as your head rested against the rim of the tub.

“your dad sent those men, huh? that’s why you were so eerily calm driving away. you knew you weren’t really in any danger, that those men were secretly there to kill me,” you finally concluded, anger boiling deep within the pit of your stomach.

“yeah, i think they were. i don’t think dad is too fond of the fact that you and i got close. i-i like you a lot more than i let on, i’ve told him so. i thought that would make him happy, knowing i have someone in my life that i could rely on and trust, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control you after these six months were up, think he wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“wouldn’t be the first time i’ve had a hit out on my head. this one, however, is probably going to be a lot tricker to deal with.”

Shouto sunk deeper into himself, body shaking with rage as he saw the fight flash in his head over and over again.

“i’m going to protect you. if you want to, that is. i’ll sign you on as my own bodyguard, however much money you want. i’ll be by your side always, make sure that nobody tries to kill you, tries to hurt you like that again.”

“i can fend for myself Todoroki.”

“it’s Shouto. and why won’t you let anyone else take care of you? listen, i know i’ve been kind of an ass but i thought we were at least friends, and yet i know nothing about you. i know your favorite color, your favorite animal, that you like sunsets and the rain and snuggling under comfy sheets at the end of the day, that your eyes sparkle when you get a chance to fight but secretly crave peace and comfort, but i don’t know who you are. your name, your story, why you’re really here.”

you heaved as you sat back up, staring him straight in the eye to find no malice, no anger, only confusion, empathy and maybe even a bit of longing. so you told him, you told him everything: who you were, what you were, where you grew up, about your childhood dog and all the scraps you had as a kid, how two strange men in suits approached you and groomed you to fight at the age of sixteen, how it was the only thing you knew how to do, the only thing you were good at, how you scared yourself sometimes because you enjoyed the pain that came with the fights. he sat there watching, eyes wide and unblinking as he absorbed every word you said, every bit of pain and anxiety, of longing for someone to love and understand you, of not having to fight all the time, of wanting to be vulnerable for once.

“let me take care of you,” he declared, standing up and outstretching his hand towards you, helping you up from the cool tile, hand coming to rest behind your head once you had steadied yourself.

he leaned forward, unsure and hesitant, before placing his lips against your own, soft and gentle, tasting of mint chapstick and coffee. you were unsure of yourself, awkward, full of aches and pains, wanting so badly to let go but never wanting to get hurt.

“it’s okay, you’re safe with me. let me take care of you, please.”

that was all it took for you to open up, looping your arms around his neck as he led you back to the bedroom, careful to not run you into anything. your knees hit the back of the bed and you reflexively tensed up, like a deer in headlights.

he shushed you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, heeding the bandage and wound underneath. you laid back after that, body attempting to relax as his hands ran themselves soothingly over your body, across your breasts, the flesh of your stomach, your thighs, the corded muscles in your calves, slipping your shoes off, your socks, kissing every inch of your body along the way, making sure you were comfortable. you shimmied out of your pants, your tight shirt, bra, underwear, finally bare for him to see, scars, bruises, all the imperfections of your life.

“so, so beautiful,” he murmured, taking his time to kiss every single blemish and scar that you had, wanting you to feel his dedication.

after what felt like hours of soft kisses, his thumb came to rest on your clit, rubbing in quick and precise circles, fingers gently parting your folds to press into your body, back arching at the feeling of him already.

“it’s all about you tonight, okay? just relax, let me show you how much i appreciate you.”

and appreciate you he did. he dropped to his knees, nose nuzzling into your pubic bone as he kitten licked your clit once, twice, three times, testing your reaction. you whined and squirmed at the feeling, already overwhelmed by his fingers lazily dragging in and out of you. you wanted, needed more, but Todoroki wouldn’t hear any of that. you deserved to be treated right, treated gently tonight, to allow your worries to melt away, if only for a few moments.

his fingers began picking up pace, pistoning in and out of you, his fingers curling in all the right spots, fists clenched into the downy comforter as you attempted to ground yourself from the overwhelming situation. his tongue worked against your clit, changing speed and pressure, trying to find what was the right combination to set you off, watching your every move intently as you squirmed around on the bed. before he even got a chance to get into a routine, you were already cumming over his fingers, creamy liquid coating the digits.

he hummed in contentment, pulling his fingers out to lick up the syrup, you watching with your pupils blown wide.

you went to sit up, body aching from the adrenaline of the fight, but he pushed you back down into the plush bed, tutting as he settled his head against your thigh, kissing, sucking and biting along the plump flesh, leaving little marks only he would know about.

his tongue began lapping at your clit again, this time harsher, more in tune with what your body wanted. you clenched your legs around his head, fisting his hair with your good hand as you tried to ground yourself yet again to reality. his velvety tongue felt like heaven against your body, coaxing moans and sighs out of your mouth. you felt your second orgasm hit you like a freight truck, tingles running up your spine. you tried to push his head away but he only held your body down, a frighteningly feral look on his face as he continued to lap against your clit, unrelenting in his pursuit to pull orgasm after orgasm from you.

after, two, three, four more highs, you couldn’t tell where one began and one ended, he was finally satisfied, pulling his face away, chin glistening in the dim light. your eyes were teary and red, overwhelmed by everything he had put you through. you had never been more satisfied in your life, and by the look on Shouto’s face, he knew it too.

your eyelids began to droop and your body relaxed into the mattress as you came back down into reality. Shouto shuffled around the room before settling you into your bed, tucking the sheets around your body and propping your head against your pillow.

he was enamored by your, by your story, how you opened up so willingly to him after tonight. nothing would get in between you two now. he was just starting to truly know you, know the real you, and nothing was going to stop him from wooing you until you were his, not even his father., and if her life was ever threatened again by him, well, Shouto would just have to kill Todoroki Enji.

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #bnharem collab

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lavellander · 3 years ago

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hello im feeling extra “touch the stove”-y today so. i was looking for any dialogue where solas just straight up lies and (of what i could find online/transcribed, obv) i didnt find anything that was 100% untrue. he’ll completely avoid the question, change the subject, give part of the truth, etc etc etc, but nothing was just Entirely A Lie

what really gets me is that there’s a handful of convos where someone infers something from what solas says, and he will even point out that he didn’t directly say that. like, he tells people how to see through his shit, lmao

here is an embarrassingly long ass list of examples, all sorted by what kind of not-lying he’s doing lol, just bc i am unhinged<3

*note that some of these are cut from longer bits of dialogue or have been split up from one conversation into different categories*

literally just Not Answering The Question lol

Dorian: How much “will” do they have? They’re amorphous constructs of the Fade. Solas: Hmm.

Dorian: Solas, have I offended you? Solas: If you have, why would it concern you?

Dorian: Solas, what is this whole look of yours about? Solas: I’m sorry? Dorian: No, that outfit is sorry. What are you supposed to be, some kind of woodsman? Dorian: Is it a Dalish thing? Don’t you dislike the Dalish? Or is it some kind of statement? Solas: No.

Dorian: Let me get this straight, Solas. Dorian: You’re an apostate – neither Dalish nor city elf – who lived alone in the woods studying spirits. Solas: Is that a problem for you?

Solas: [has a whole tactical moment about the red jennies lmao] Sera: Where d’you get all this, then? Solas: Do you wish to be unnerved by another tale of my explorations of the Fade? Or do you wish to learn something?

Vivienne: You must be pleased with what was revealed at the Temple of Mythal, Solas. Solas: Why should those ruins please me, Enchanter?

changing the subject before he backs himself into a corner

Gatt: I don’t see any tattoos, but you’re carrying a staff. Are you from a Chantry Circle? Solas: No. And I would prefer not to discuss it.

Solas: I find the fall of the dwarven lands confusing. Varric: What’s so confusing about endless darkspawn? Solas: A great deal, although that is a different matter.

giving the truth, but not the whole truth

Blackwall: Skyhold. How did you find it? Solas: I looked. Blackwall: Now you sound like Cole. You looked? Solas: This world is full of wonders for those who seek them.

Blackwall: You spoke of seeing death and destruction. Did you fight in a war? Solas: There are struggles across Thedas at any given time. I doubt you would have heard of it. Blackwall: An elven skirmish? Solas: In a manner of speaking, yes.

Cassandra: Solas, have you always lived alone? Out in the wilderness, as an apostate? Solas: For the most part.

Cassandra: Have you ever encountered templars before? Solas: Only at a distance. I am an apostate, after all. Cassandra: And they never caught you even once? Solas: I am a very careful apostate.

Dorian: We found elves, living ancient elves, at the Temple of Mythal. Does that bother you, Solas? If Inquisitor allied with the Sentinels: Solas: I am pleased we were not forced to kill them, if that’s what you mean.

Iron Bull: You’ve got an odd style, Solas. Your spells are a bit different from the Circle mages or the Vints. Solas: That comes from being self-taught. Solas: I discovered most of my magic on my own, or learned it from my journeys in the Fade.

Vivienne: So, an apostate? Solas: That is correct, Enchanter. I did not train in your Circle.

Solas: You are a man who made a choice... possibly the first of your life. Iron Bull: I’ve always liked fighting. What if I turn savage, like the other Tal-Vashoth? Solas: You have the Inquisition, you have the Inquisitor... and you have me.

from cutscene at beginning Inquisitor: [mentions the anchor closing a rift] Solas: Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct.

from cutscene at beginning Solas: [to a Dalish Inq] You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here? Inquisitor: What do you know of the Dalish? Solas: I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion. Inquisitor: [Crossed paths? dialogue choice] Solas: I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition.

from “I’d like to know more about you” convo in Haven Inquisitor: What made you start studying the Fade? Solas: I grew up in a village to the north. There was little to interest a young man, especially one gifted with magic. But as I slept, spirits of the Fade showed me glimpses of wonders I had never imagined. I treasured my dreams. Being awake, out of the Fade, became troublesome.

actually telling the truth but no one picks up on the gravity of it

Solas: [...] I believe the elven gods existed, as did the old gods of Tevinter. But I do not think any of them were gods, unless you expand the definition of the word to the point of absurdity. I appreciate the idea of your Maker, a god that does not need to prove his power. I wish more such gods felt the same. Cassandra: You have seen much sadness in your journeys, Solas. Following the Maker might offer some hope. Solas: I have people, Seeker. The greatest triumphs and tragedies this world has known can all be traced to people.

Cole: No, inside. I don’t hear your hurt as much. Your song is softer, subtler, not silent but still. Solas: How small the pain of one man seems when weighted against the endless depths of memory, of feeling, of existence. That ocean carries everyone. And those of us who learn to see its currents move through life with their fewer ripples.

Cole: You didn’t do it to be right. You did it to save them. Inquisitor: Solas, what is Cole talking about? Solas: A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything.

Solas: Empires rise and fall. Arlathan was no more “innocent” than your own Tevinter in its time. Solas: Your nostalgia for the ancient elves, however romanticized, is pointless.

Solas: Our people used to be here. Sera: Pfft, you say that everywhere. Solas: It is more true than you want to believe.

Vivienne: You must be pleased, apostate. With the Templars dissolved, your rebels will be most difficult to pacify. Solas: My rebels? Am I an agent for their cause, whispering poison into the Inquisition’s ears? Solas: How comforting. Vivienne: You enjoy seeing yourself as a villain? Solas: No more than any other clever man who wonders what he could do if pushed.

Vivienne: [about the Temple of Mythal] Now you know the elves were once a mighty nation. Solas: I always knew, Enchanter. The Temple of Mythal is just another reminder of what was lost.

(in the Emerald Graves): These forests have changed much since I was last here.

during the Fade!Haven cutscene Solas: It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture... and right then, I felt the whole world change. Inquisitor: [romance option] “Felt the whole world change?” Solas: A figure of speech. Inquisitor: I’m aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in felt. Solas: You change... everything.

pointing out that people assume he means things he did not directly say

Cole: There is pain though, still within you. Solas: And I never said there was not.

Solas: You may well become fully human, after all. I never thought to see it. Cole: When did you see it before? Solas: I did not say that I had.

Iron Bull: We’ve got the alliance with my people. Given how much you love the Qun, I figured... Solas: I might scold you? Berate you for your decisions? Iron Bull: Hey. The Chargers died as heroes for the good of the mission. Solas: I never said otherwise.

Sera: Don’t you start. Solas: I’m reasonably certain I said nothing.

Vivienne: [talking shit about grey warden mages] Solas: I never claimed mages should be above the law, Enchanter. Vivienne: No, darling. You merely implied it, while offering no viable suggestions for improvement.

after infamous “side benefits” dialogue Warrior Inquisitor: You find my muscles enjoyable? Solas: I meant that you enjoyed having them, presumably. Warrior Inquisitor: Ah. Solas: But yes... since you asked.

diminishing things he does actually know by saying he he “believes” or “thinks,” or that things were vaguely “said” or “told”

Solas: I say what I believe to be true, even if it gives offense to those who prefer the lie.

Dorian: That orb Corypheus carries... are you certain it’s of elven origin, Solas? Solas: I believe so. Why do you ask?

Solas: It is said that we lived at a pace that sustained us for... ages.

making it sound like he’s talking about something/someone else, but it’s just him lmao

Cole: Do you know a lot about wolves? Solas: I know that they are intelligent, practical creatures that small-minded fools think of as terrible beasts.

Solas: No man can kill so many people without breaking inside. To survive... those you fight must become monsters. Iron Bull: The ones that kill innocent people, yeah. The rest... I don’t know. Solas: The mind does marvelous things to protect itself.

during In Hushed Whispers Inquisitor: I’m glad you understood what he just said because I’m not sure I did. Solas: You would think such understanding would stop me from making such terrible mistakes. You would be wrong.

misc

this one i wanted to include because it’s the only circumstance (that i came across) where someone directly asks solas to lie and he literally says he can’t

during the fucking crestwood breakup scene Inquisitor: [angry option] Tell me you don’t care. Solas: I can’t do that. Inquisitor: Tell me I was some casual dalliance so I can call you a cold-hearted son of a bitch and move on! Solas: I’m sorry.

*also note that most of these are banter transcriptions from the wiki; some are cutscene / other dialogue posted by either @/daitranscripts or u/karinini on reddit; it’s not all his cutscenes obv, but I’m not about to look up every single one individually sdlkfj*

#i am................incredibly embarrassed that i did this #forgive me. the brain worms would not leave until it was Done #also sorry that its ugly no matter what i did tungle was NOT happy w my formatting. just know its clean and easy to read in my mind :/#and i know none of this is new information but i am riddled with terminal grad student brain disease so i like having my evidence organized #long post #(bc its long as hell if u open the read more)#im going to put this in my #ref #tag. bc i sometimes get tripped up writing his dialogue to be cryptic but true

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bugmomwrites · 4 years ago

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Bloody Knuckles (Satori Tendou x GN!Reader)

A/N: My first time writing for Tendou! He was definitely one of the more multi faceted characters I’ve seen thus far, and I wanted to portray him in a way that wasn’t just an unhinged crackhead and it turns out I’m soft for The Weird Ones With A Heart Of Gold so...yay?

Give this song a listen while you read!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8GwUos_Mtw&list=LLMufVjq3gMI8bOOKLeFGq4g&index=257

If this takes off and enough people ask/comment/reblog I may write part 2 but no promises

TW: You break someone’s nose so a little blood? You can throw a mean punch in this one. Do with that what you will.

“Hey, I’m sorry for worrying you. Semi kind of exaggerated over the phone but I swear I’m fine.”

Silence.

You gulp. Tendou has already thanked the nurse for cleaning your cuts, and offers to wrap the last couple bandages. Sensing you two needed to be alone, she gives him the roll and quietly tends to the others. The several wrappings on his own hands must have been enough of an indication to them, seeming to say I know what I’m doing! I’ve done this before!, and it wasn’t like it was anything major. If it was something more graphic, say, a gun wound, they might have done it themselves. But here he was, wrapping you up with a level of care and intimacy reserved only for you.

How on earth did he let this happen again? You had been on your way to the gym around the same time he usually finished practice so the two of you could walk home together and hang out after school. Nothing out of the ordinary. You even had his varsity jacket on to block out the chilly autumn breeze, grateful that the sleeves were long enough to go well past your hands. His number 5 stitched onto the back was just the icing on the cake, and you wore it with pride.

Except today had been a little different.

As his s/o, you were very well aware of his past experiences with bullying, how he was labeled a “monster” by his peers; excluded from activities and singled out- sometimes even by the teachers. And while he had initially grown from the experience, feeling much more confident not just with age but with you becoming a vital part of his life as well, that didn’t mean he’d completely forgotten it either. Even though it was much less common in high school, there would still be the rare few that had something nasty say about him, but you didn’t think you’d ever witness it first hand in your third and final year.

As luck would have it, your “good behavior” streak came to a screeching halt when you heard snickers coming a little ways behind you. Frowning, you turned your head just in time to see a cluster of what looked like a few college kids from the team Shiratorizawa practiced against. You wondered briefly what was so amusing to them, when the shortest of the three beckoned you over. Hesitantly, you followed to where they were, just a couple yards away from the gym entrance.

“Can I help you?”, you asked curiously. One of them nodded, leaning down a bit and spoke.

“Yeah, we couldn’t help but wonder- are you dating the infamous Guess Monster of Shiratorizawa? The number on your back looked familiar.”

“Oh you mean Tendou! Yeah, he’s the greatest. Have you guys met him?”, at this they all exchanged incredulous looks before bursting into laughter. You faltered, half expecting that these guys were maybe friends of his, or at least on good terms. Anytime someone would ask you about your boyfriend, you were used to gushing about him to anyone who would listen, so this mockery was unprecedented.

“Looks like even the Yokai scored a s/o before you did after all, Katsu. Pay up.” The one named Katsu groaned, but reached into his wallet nonetheless and handed over a few paper bills. At this, you frowned. Who the hell did they think they were, speaking so poorly about the man you loved with your whole heart?!

Indignantly, you huffed are them, demanding to know what kind of beef they had with Tendou. They glared down at you, retaliating with some judgmental comments. You couldn’t even remember how it escalated; whether it was a gradual build up or one sole thing that sent you from 0 to 100, but before you knew it hands were being thrown, and the little voice in the back of your mind warning you about utterly stupid you were acting was ultimately silenced.

Being outnumbered, and not to mention much smaller it wasn’t hard for them to land a couple hits on you. Unbeknownst to you Semi passed by the commotion just in time to see two of the guys comforting their friend, who was now holding a bloody nose.

This would have been the perfect time to make your getaway, but after you heard the words “psycho bitch” there was nothing in your veins but pure unadulterated rage, and any momentary relief Semi may have felt at the prospect of the scrap winding down, was shot down almost instantly.

He wasn’t too sure who he should be more worried for, but getting in the middle of it wouldn’t end well for anybody. The sight of maroon blotches on the concrete and smearing over all four of you sent him into a mild panic, as he turned the corner and dialed 911.

“Yeah, Shiratorizawa Academy. Just outside the gym. Thank you. Please hurry.”

He still had one more call to make, although he wasn’t sure if he could do it. Steeling his nerves and swallowing any anxiety that got caught in his throat he tapped the green call button. The dial tone sounded for fifteen long seconds before a cheerful voice finally greeted him on the other line.

“Semi-Semi? I’m right inside. Did you forget something after practice?”

“Tendou! It’s Semi. Hurry outside, it’s urgent.”

“I think the last time I decked somebody on your behalf was before we got to Shiratorizawa. Middle schoolers are ruthless”, you chuckled nervously, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him. When he still didn’t respond, you cleared your throat.

“Tendou?”, you speak again, but this time your voice is much softer. Much more uncertain. As if you’re afraid to raise your voice out of fear of one or both of you breaking. With a shaky sigh, you reach a newly wrapped hand under his chin.

“Satori.”

This time, his face lifts into your view, and you don’t miss the way his brows furrow with worry, or the way his lips tremble as glossy eyes avert your own. A heavy hand is placed over yours, thumb rubbing gentle circles over the back of your palm.

People had always told you that one of these days that temper of yours would get you into trouble. That was one other difference you had with Tendou- your boyfriend was nicknamed the “Guess Monster” on and off the court, the title coming from his hyper observant nature and uncanny ability to easily read the people around him at a moments notice. Tendou was strategic, often analyzing even the most mundane from seemingly every angle, running the possibilities through his brain before executing a final decision.

You on the other hand? You were impulsive, brash, the patron saint of “act first think later”. You were prone to getting caught up in the moment, and being much more volatile than your romantic counterpart. That mentality, coupled with your loyalty and strong sense of justice was the perfect storm for leading you into scenarios much like this one.

Sure, you had scared off bullies for Tendou before, and every time he would hug you tight and tell you to “be more careful next time”, and just like clockwork you’d be on your best behavior for all of a week or so before inevitably relapsing back to instinctive rage. The cycle would continue, and for a while spats like these became less frequent, much to Tendou’s joy.

This was not “just another spat”.

Instead of relieved affection and that familiar grin you knew and loved, the back of the ambulance was deadly quiet, save for the EMTs bustling around outside.

His name still hung in the air, and before you could say anything else you felt warm droplets rolling onto your newly wrapped hands. One by one teardrops soaked through the fabric in the form of little dots, and your heart dropped as the harsh reality set in.

Tendou Satori was crying. Your lovably goofy, sweet boyfriend, who you swore to protect from all the vile comments. From all the evil in the world. From any and all things that would make him cry.

But this time, it was because of you.

In your crusade of being his metaphorical umbrella in the harshest storms raining from above, you had neglected to notice the muddy puddles below, leading him right into them while he faithfully believed in you.

Those kids might have been calling Tendou a monster, but now? The title seemed to be more fitting for you. You had to fix this. You had to bring that smile back. You were the only one who could bring back the sun from the dreary raincloud that hung over the both of you.

“Tori, baby... look at me.”

After what seemed like eons, teary brown eyes met (e/c) ones. You wondered how it was possible for them to look so shiny, and yet so subdued at the same time. There were originally so many apologies and words running through your head that you had planned, each one thought out carefully enough to make Tendou proud. You wanted to tell him all of it, while putting some sense of comfort in knowing that you were trying to express your feelings with words (and not impulsive actions) that you pondered. That you came up with. That you considered before speaking, for once in your life.

But as soon as you made eye contact, they disappeared into thin air. Every mentally rehearsed statement, gone. So you rested your forehead against his in a silent apology. Words would fail you, and as much as you wanted to be just as eloquent as Tendou, the small gesture seemed to do more than a million I’m sorry’s ever could.

So the pair of you sat on the stretcher in a silence that seemed much less suffocating now, forehead to forehead, and kissing away tears.

After several minutes had passed, Tendou leaned into your hand some more, and turned to lay a kiss into your palm.

Now it was your turn to tear up a little. After seeing firsthand the kind of harassment your boyfriend went through on a daily basis, you knew you had to be strong for his sake. The reasonable part of you told you to not pick a fight with certain people, no matter what. That there was no shame in taking the high road. But then you’d remember all the times he’d come home dejected and hurt, and the indignation that came with people so casually dragging his name through the mud, having no idea just how much words hurt.

Being “his protector” was taxing, and you realized that, while you’d do everything in your power to keep that smile on his face, sometimes you needed to let him be there for you too. As equals.

The tears were now dried up, no words needed as the walls of the tiny ambulance began to feel less restricting. Much like a sun shower, it wasn’t completely better yet, but it was obvious things were on the mend, at the very least. There was always a short window of time during a rainstorm where the sun would peek out, despite the last few drops of rain not disappearing completely. Moments like these- where the sadness was still lingering, but took a backseat to make room for relief, bittersweetness, and love- were where a rainbow would shine through. This purgatory was beautiful, yet ephemeral, and if you didn’t embrace it quickly enough it would fade away.

And with that, Tendou took a page out of your book and kissed you sweetly. It took you by surprise at first, but before too long you were melting into it. Vulnerable, but filled with a new kind of strength.

Pulling away as you remembered the ambulance doors were still half open, you attempted to reach to pull them shut. Alas, Tendou was a master at reading people, but most especially you, and you two were closed off from the rest of the world with a satisfying click.

Using this window of opportunity where his guard was down, you pulled him back down to your level for a longer, steamier kiss as you card your hand through his hair. You could almost feel him smirking against you, and in that moment you knew your sunshine was here to stay. After a few moments of shared breaths, mingling tongues and wandering hands, you finally separated and took in his dishelved appearance. Although, you were certain you didn’t look much better.

“I know I’m not as good with words as you are, but I’d love to apologize properly...maybe with actions?”

His eyes softened, lifting both of your bandaged hands in his to his lips as he tenderly kissed your bruised knuckles.

“I’d like that.”

TAGLIST: @narutos-fat-meat @introloves @kzumesknma @lotsofangst @xsweetbutsaltyx

Send me an ask or a message if you want to be notified of future stories, and I’ll add you to the list!

#bug mom writes #tendou satori #tendou x reader #gn reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #anime #fluff

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just-call-me-johnny-archive · 4 years ago

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[Previous Post]

@vindication-thy-name-is-dwight

Coming from a man who was once told "kill yourself; do it for your friend" by one of the only living things in his vicinity, Johnny is also not used to any form of compassion. His family was a pleasant shock; getting to meet them and become amicable. He enjoyed their company, their intelligence, and their cordiality.

Midge will always be his ice twin; they share much more than their ice powers and similar height. The siblings have had so many heart-to-hearts and moments together that they're practically inseparable in a room together. Johnny and Midge share stories and even gossip sometimes; he will always be grateful for the woman's kindness when there was never any before.

Nowadays, it makes Johnny sad to think of his sister; he knows that she still loves him, but they haven't had time to really talk about any of the events that happened last year. As soon as he got out of his coma, she was there with gifts and visitations where they'd catch up on some things, but he's never had the opportunity to apologize. He shouldn't have put her in the position to have found him like that. He also wants to hear what her thoughts are about the relationship he's found himself in.

On the other hand, Dwight has been the biggest shock to him about how much love could change his perspective of someone. They started as bitter enemies; Johnny wanted to kill the man at any given opportunity for how he's treated his family. That feeling only tripled when Chance came into his life and became his adopted son. To imagine that he'd eventually be wrapped in these same arms that he'd wanted to rip off and beat Counselor's head in with.

Johnny can't comprehend why someone like Dwight, who is suave, composed, and sophisticated, would want anything to do with something like him. People like Dwight would always turn their nose up at Johnny, knowing that they were better, richer, and more successful than he could ever dream to be. He was more than accustomed to being seen as a plague, even when it came to Lazuroth. They would (almost) never say it aloud, but he could tell that no one ever believed he would fit in with the royal family. Johnny had long resigned himself to a reclusive life, always hiding behind his family's accomplishments and flair.

Then, along came Dwight- and he'd shown Johnny that he saw the man for himself. That he actually liked how unhinged he was- how loud and emotional he can be. He could have easily (and still can) tell him to fuck off and die, but the story has been all the difference. He's loved; his life does matter; he doesn't have to perform some action to have worth.

Johnny will never be able to articulate to Dwight just how much that means to him.

He holds his Counselor a little tighter; Johnny once again reiterates in his mind that he will never, ever allow another fuck-up to happen again.

His eyes move to the straight razor on the far end of Dwight's desk. Johnny knows what he saw. Except, no, he doesn't. He never knows that; he has a history of hallucinating. However, nothing quite ever felt as real as when he heard Vargas calling him his old pet name and touching his shoulder blades. It makes him shudder even now.

But Vargas is dead. He's gone, and Johnny is probably just sabotaging himself and his recovery by continuing to rehash his past through the present. He will never get over the man if he doesn't first stop thinking of him as potentially being alive. He killed him; he remembers that. End of story.

Meanwhile, there were still some very at-large enemies who have the ability to know some information. It's... possible. It's at least more possible than Vargas. Who is dead. And gone.

"Do you think," Johnny blurts out, but then silences himself, feeling irrational. He waits a moment to gather his thoughts. "That... razor- I didn't- it wasn't... I've never- well I haven't in a while-"

"What I'm trying to say is that I was- given it. It wasn't mine originally. I found it at my door... at Christmas. It was wrapped up in a towel-"

The same one that it was before. On Earth. Shut up.

"In a box. Like a gift. I didn't want to say anything because..."

I saw him. I saw him. I saw him! I! Saw! Him!

"I-"

He was fucking there! He gave it to me! He called me Swallowtail like he always used to, and he did that stupid thing by touching my back! He always used to do that too! They were ‘wings’! Wings of a Swallowtail! He was there! I saw him! I felt him! I heard him!

The fear is back in Johnny's eyes; fuck, in his whole body. He's spiraling again. His breath is growing short in his chest; every muscle is trembling and feeling like it wants to run away or curl up and fucking die. His throat is tight, and it's like his entire body is filled with static. Johnny can barely move his lips anymore. His mind is blank and overloaded at the same time. He can longer hear anything but the beat of his own heart - everything else sounds muffled and far away.

He even said it was his gift! He said that! He said that! I heard him say that! I felt his breath on my neck and the fingers! I saw him in the reflection! I smelled the fucking cigarettes! He was there! He was there! Just fucking say it! Tell him that he was there! Tell him that you saw him! Tell him!

"I... Can't."

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toartemis · 5 years ago

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Come on Love, Draw Your Swords - Part 2

I keep forgetting to post my fics on here when I originally post them on Ao3. I swear I will drop that habit eventually! Here’s Part 2 (Chapter 1, really?). You can read it on Ao3, and it is a part of my series called The Moon’s Serenade. Read Part 1 here or on Ao3 as well.

Please give I Wish I Had a Hundred Years by Fernando Velázquez a listen, it’s what I had on repeat while writing this chapter!

Summary:

Sing to me, Moonlight For you, dear, are honey-tongued I dream just for you.

Or: The one where Jude finds out she's pregnant, and Cardan begins collecting a thousand plants.

Word Count: 1,773 (Wow, this is by FAR the shortest one).

Warnings: None

Preview:

Not yet, she tells herself. It’s okay to not tell him just yet.

----------

Her first step back into the palace feels full of purpose. Cardan should be in the throne room, but instead of going there, she follows the halls deeper to their shared rooms. The grand doors swinging open for her are a welcome comfort.

Jude bathes and tells herself that she’ll have a personal guard summon her husband once she’s done.

That never happens.

She slips on a baggy pair of trousers, soft and heavy, and one of Cardan’s sleeping shirts. Still, she does not summon him.

She tries reading, but that doesn’t take her mind off of anything. Eventually, she ends up pacing once again, running her thumb over the flat part of her ring finger, trying to wrangle her thoughts together.

How am I going to say it? What will he think? Should I—

“Jude?”

She whips around, startled, and sees Cardan standing in front of her, looking as heart-wrenchingly beautiful as ever. The Blood Crown sits on his brow, his inky black hair curls near his jaw, longer in these last few years than when they were younger. He wears an embroidered, flowing shirt—one of her favorites on him—and a thin chain around his neck. She hadn’t heard him come in. He must have entered, closed the doors behind him, and made his way to their private bedroom without her noticing.

“Is everything alright?” He brushes he fingers over her cheekbone, and Jude is overcome with a surge of emotions. She doesn’t understand why, but she feels unhinged. “You returned to me early,” he finishes, voice intrigued.

Without warning, Jude throws her arms around his neck and tucks her face near to his throat, breathing him in. Tentatively, he responds, holding her against his chest.

“Something must be wrong,” he chuckles. Jude fights back tears, frustrated with her hesitation and her lack of control over her emotions, currently.

This is her chance, she just needs to form the words and speak them. They’re right on her tongue, her chest hitching over them. She feels like screaming. When she finally does say something, it’s not what she planned to.

“I’m fine,” is all she says, and releases her hold on him to brave looking him in the eye. “Just had a fight with Vivi.”

She curses herself inwardly.

The way Cardan looks at her makes her feel pinned to the spot. His eyes search hers for a long moment.

“Okay,” he says, though he seems like he wants to say more. He drops his arms, then, and saunters over to a wardrobe across the room. Jude’s chest tightens, and she swallows, her throat thick.

Not yet, she tells herself. It’s okay to not tell him just yet.

Not yet becomes it’s not the right moment, then I’m not ready, and soon enough, days turn into a week. Jude knows she’s not being fair to herself or to him. She really should start seeing one of the palace healers, but she can’t until she tells Cardan. It would be disastrous if she had herself looked at and somehow all of Elfhame found out, then Cardan had to hear the news secondhand.

She feels like a child that’s done something wrong and is trying to hide the fact from her parents. That’s really what she’s doing: hiding. She doesn’t want to face the reality of her situation and go through with it. By prolonging telling him, she’s protecting herself. It’s selfish, she knows it is, but every time she tries to say the truth, it just doesn’t come out.

I’m pregnant, she wants to say one day that they read silently near each other in their private library. Cardan seems the pinnacle of confidence and ease while lounging in a plump chair, but his tail flicks beside him as it does when he’s nervous. Jude skims over the same page of her book for the seventh time, eyes jumping to her husband.

She doesn’t know why she can’t say it. She wants to tell him desperately, and there is no better time than now. Cardan must be able to sense her gaze on him, but he only sits silently, like he’s waiting. Jude takes a deep breath, opens her mouth, but the words get caught in her throat.

I’m a coward, she wants to say when they’re walking through some of the newer palace gardens later on. She wants to shout it to the sky, scream it so that everyone will know. She’s a coward; she’s afraid. Cardan doesn’t speak, boot-clad feet gliding almost soundlessly over the path, cloak made of the finest purple velvet spilling off of one shoulder. His silence feels thoughtful, even patient, or maybe Jude is reading into it too much as a means to make herself feel better. When she glances at him and he meets her eyes immediately, her stomach swoops. She looks away.

Waves of nausea wake Jude up the following day, the sun high in the sky, Cardan asleep beside her. She dashes from the bed and into another room, leaning over a chamber pot. Through sheer force, she stamps down the need to gag, willing herself to keep her composure. It helped that she had nothing to eat throughout the night, too anxious for an appetite. When it passes, she sits for a while, settling herself. Then she makes to go back to bed, soft pants and thick shirt hanging loosely off of her.

Cardan is staring when she pads back into their bedroom, silk sheets tangled around him, embroidered canopy pulled back. She can’t look at him. When she crawls back into the bed, he gets up and leaves. Jude fights the urge to cry at the sight of him disappearing through an archway into his study, tail swinging restlessly.

She takes a few moments to compose herself before she follows, blood pumping feverishly beneath her skin as her bare feet slip across the cold stone floor.

Though it is bright outside, his personal study has no windows, so he keeps a large fire lit for her usually, as it is right now. His back is to her. Warm light brushes against his skin and fills the room. Jude stands some feet away on a rug by his ornate desk, too nervous to approach. She knows what she needs to say, but she still can’t. It eats away at her in their silence.

Jude loses track of how long she watches him. It could be an hour, but she can’t tell. She has long since sat down in a nearby chair, too emotionally drained from these last weeks to find the strength to keep herself up. No one has come to disturb them from the main room of their apartments, and Cardan stands like a statue except for his tail, which swings behind him. She still can’t see his face. Her pulse is wild.

“Have I offended you?” Cardan’s voice shatters the tense silence. Jude can hear the confusion in his tone, the concern. Her heart sinks at the words.

“Offended me?” She whispers.

“Yes,” he says, and turns to her rather abruptly. She can finally see how these past months have been affecting him; there is pain pooling in his midnight eyes, and it dances with the flickering firelight that reflects there. “Have I done something to wrong you? You’re upset. You have been since you returned from your visit with Vivienne, and I dare say things have not been right for months, now, as well.”

Jude says nothing, but she holds his gaze.

“I’ve thought through the possibilities, and I’m certain I have not said anything considered worthy of shame to you,” he continues, voice pleading. Guilt floods through her. Despite how much she wants to close the distance between them, she stays seated. The weight of his stare is heavy. He seems like he is waiting for her to say something, then realizes she won’t. “I know I am talented at vexing others and enjoy it often, but I promise you that I am deeply sorry for whatever I’ve done.”

Jude sucks in a shaky breath, tears welling in her eyes. He takes a step toward her and she looks away, unable to bear it any longer.

“Jude,” he begs. She feels him begin to close in on her, and she can’t help that her eyes go to the soft hair weaving around his pointed ears. All she can think of is if their child will have hair like his.

“What did I—”

“I’m pregnant,” the words tumble from her lips before she can think about it, loud and rushed. She stands again on weak legs. There’s no sound but the crackle of the fire. He’s only a step away from her, and she can feel her body thrumming as she hangs her head and stares at her feet. Cardan shifts, just barely.

“What?” It’s small, his voice cracking. She still can’t look him in the eye.

“I’m—”

“Yes, I heard you,” his says like a caress. Jude swallows around the large lump in her throat. Her eyes are wet, her chest tight. She’s embarrassed. Not because she’s pregnant, and not because she told him. She just feels… so—

“You’re… This is real? It’s the truth?” He asks, voice barely there. Jude nods, fingers twisting her ruby ring that she still keeps on her finger. And then, to her utter disbelief, Cardan laughs.

It sounds like bells, like birdsong, and she finally looks at him. Cardan’s eyes are bright, shining, and crinkling along the edges. His smile is one that could blind, and Jude feels like something just bursts inside of her at the sight. For the first time in as long as she can remember, she’s crying, really, really crying. But she’s laughing, too, and throwing herself into his arms.

“Jude,” he says into the crook of her neck, his hands stroking her back and running through her hair, “This is wonderful.” She can feel him grinning, and her stomach does flips, hope flaring in her chest, and she’s overwhelmed by a rush of contentment like she’s never felt before. Her body melts into his.

He pulls back from their embrace, bodies still flush, and cradles her face in his hands, thumbs stroking her tears away.

“I have never been more happy than I am now,” he says.

And Jude kisses him. She does it with everything she’s got. The kiss is warm honey, dripping with promise. That’s how they spend the next hours, kissing and laughing into each other’s mouths, sharing breaths and finding comfort in each other.

Jude hasn’t felt this light in months.

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Okay, we’ve made it past the two shortest parts. The rest is currently taking up around 80 pages of space on my computer and I’m not quite done yet. I hope you stick around for what’s coming! I’m really excited. Comments/kudos on Ao3 are appreciated, or maybe a like on here, whatever suits your fancy.

Thank you for reading! <3

#the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the cruel prince fanfiction #tcp #twk #qon #jurdan #jurdan fanfiction #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #tfota fanfiction #jurdan fanfic #my woods #my writing #i hate tagging

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doctorinnovatium-archive · 5 years ago

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The Doctor’s Workshop: The Prologue

From some time, from some place beyond the veil of worlds, an untraceable signal is being broadcast across the realm of Fantasy. One cannot easily tune into it intentionally; those who do accomplish this feat accidentally, often when tuning their radio or television in search for another station. Those who only receive the signal audibly only hear a slightly shrill and subtly unhinged voice whose accent implies its owner to be from the British Isles from at least one iteration of Earth. Those with visuals see a thin, Caucasian man dressed in a red waistcoat and white, long-sleeved shirt, with a pair of peculiarly tinted goggles - red and blue respectively, like the tint of vintage 3D glasses - obscuring his eyes and giving off an eerie glow. The man, whose face was contorted into a welcoming if rather deranged grin, stands in front of a blackboard, where a somewhat enthusiastic hand has written ominously, "THE DOCTOR IS IN!!!"

"Greetings, people and likewise of the Imagiverse! It is I, Doctor Innovatium, discoverer of the elusive element Innovatium and somewhat of a legend, if I'm right, in universal scientific circles. You may or may not have heard of me or my contributions to the fields of science and technology; indeed, it is likely you know not of either and are wondering who this rambling fellow is! In which case, I will give you a brief rundown;

"In the 1895th year of Earth, London, I had discovered the life blood of the universe; a peculiar substance that serves both as a near-infinite power source and a... dampener of the fabric of reality, or, to put it another way, a space-time hallucinogen. You see, the force of Reality is not as binary as you would think, but rather an analogue quality, so that there are things that are more real than others. What Innovatium invokes is what I've labelled hyper-fantasy, an extreme level of non-reality which does away with the conventional laws of physics and logic and-

"Oh, look at me ramble! Sorry, the nature of the Imagiverse is such a fascinating subject for me, I tend to lose myself. Anyway, I discovered this peculiar element and wasted no time experimenting with its capabilities. With its reality-bending properties, I found it could open many doors to realising the scientific fictions that occupied the minds of many back in those days, what with the Secret of Flight and so forth. I had even hypothesised the use of Innovatium to power our locomotives, although I never saw that patent be accepted by the Bureau.

"Then came the faithful night I finished constructing my then-latest invention, a portal that could transport one to the Realm of Fantasy, which I had theorised to exist in tandem with the Realm of Reality we knew back then. I'm... afraid I'm rather blurry on the details of the occurrence, but I know that one moment I had been turning on the portal, next thing I was here, in the same workshop I had been in prior, but unable to leave! Thankfully, it meant I could continue my research without the interference of third-parties, and so I have been living here for the past... well, I'm not too sure how long I've been here, time seems to avoid this place, but I have been living here a long time since, isolated from the rest of the universe I now know to be the Realm of Fantasy; the Imagiverse.

"... Well, that wasn't as brief as it should have been, but never mind. I shall get straight to the point; for a long time now, I have hidden from the rest of the Imagiverse, tinkering and tinkering, letting my name become a mere legend among those few who have peered through the veils of their worlds. Today - that is, the point of time that I am transmitting from - that will no longer be the case. I am officially establishing communications with whoever receives this transmission, and this is how you may establish contact-"

"Dad, what're you doing?"

Doctor Innovatium pauses, turning to his left where his daughter, Alice, was standing in the doorway, her chrome-like face bearing the expression of intrigued suspicion. He had devised many contraptions during his time in this isolated bubble, but not one of those miraculous devices could take his daughter's place as his most prized creation. Time being what it is here, he could not remember exactly when he had the sudden longing for companionship or when he had acted upon that longing to devise his first artificial lifeform, but he was already thinking that she had been with him forever, as if the years before didn't matter anymore. It was a pity the visual recording apparatus would not be able to record her likeliness, as the people were missing out on the chance to gaze upon her metallic beauty.

"I'm in the middle of a transmission at the moment, Alice," he replied, in a tone considerably more soft than when he had been addressing his imaginary audience. "I did tell you of my plans, didn't I?"

"Well, I thought you weren't seriously going through with it," she responded curtly. "Do you seriously think anyone would be able to receive that transmission? We're too far away from any worlds for their radios and stuff to be able to pick it up! How many people are you expecting to respond?"

Doctor Innovatium sighs, leaning towards the recording apparatus, a complicated contraption with an eerily-realistic eye fitted onto a large, telescope-like appendage. He turns a dial on a panel fitted into the device, and those watching (or listening) are denied the ability to hear the conversation.

"Alice," the Doctor says, kneeling in front of his daughter so that they were eye-to-eye. "This is no ordinary transmitter, as I'm sure you may have guessed. When a radio - or for that matter, an antique television - is adjusted to any frequency that does not correspond to a worldly channel, they play static, is that not so? Do you ever wonder why you get static instead of, say, nothing at all? It's because it's receiving signals from a plethora of different sources, some perhaps light years away from their planet. What I'm broadcasting right now will ride on the cosmic frequencies of the Imagiverse, so it will be possible for anyone to receive it. Now, I'm not saying that everyone will be able to; I suspect that it will only be decipherable on select and special circumstances, or perhaps it will depend on their equipment. That, in turn, may actually make it easier for us, eh?

"Besides," continued the Doctor, "you're always wanting to interact with the outside world, which I can understand. It can be very lonely here, save for the company of our, hah, assistants. Perhaps you can take this opportunity to finally talk with the Imagiverse, maybe make some friends!" His smile returns, albeit warmer. "Now, may I please finish my transmission?"

Alice looked down to her feet before looking back up to her father with a stern expression. "And you'll let me talk with the outside world?"

"Absolutely."

Eyes towards the eccentric camera, then back at the Doctor. "Okay."

The Doctor pats his daughter on the shoulder, his grin widening. "Brilliant." With that, he positively strides back to the device with a single step, turns the dial back and continues.

"As I was saying, upon receiving this transmission, you will be in the possession of a device you didn't have before. Where you may find said device will depend; it may be on a counter, it may be next to a computer-like contraption of yours, or it may perhaps have materialised before you as you are listening. Either way, you will know it to be a gift of mine; it will enable you to establish contact with us from your world. Simply take it to a device that you wish to contact us with, and it will make some... Modifications to said device. I've designed it to be exceptionally versatile, so you can leave all the efforts to the device.

When the modifications have been made, you will be able to contact me," the Doctor turns to his daughter, who is watching him with her arms crossed, before adding, "and my daughter at any time. You may ask us any questions you may have, although I beseech you keep any... intimate questions you have for my daughter to yourself. She is still, at least in my eyes, quite young, so I will not tolerate any amorous advances-"

"Oh come on, dad!"

"- that you may make towards Alice. Anyway, I believe that all points have been accomplished for this broadcast, so I shall end the transmission here. I look forward to hearing from the people and likewise of the Imagiverse and to finally step out of the mists of legend and into the public eye once more. So for now, adieu, auf wiedersehen, farewell."

Silence. The transmission concludes, at least for the time being. Those who listen through the transmission would receive the device, and if they choose, they would use it to contact the mysterious Doctor and his daughter. It is uncertain the number of recipients that would respond, but considering the expanse of the Realm of Fantasy, it pays to be optimistic, at least on the part of the Doctor. _____________________________

And so starts the blog! Hello, Tumblr, this is @adamskelecoot, coming at ya with my first roleplaying blog. I've been devoting quite some time into getting this ready, what with creating the icons for both characters, and am proud to announce this ship ready to sail. The roleplay (at least, on my side) will include originally crafted icons drawn by yours truly (with borders sourced elsewhere - see Sources page). Usage of said icons will start off as liberal for now, as most of the planned icons are still in production, but the ones I have made so far should suffice for now. I look forward to seeing how this project will pan out. I would like word to spread about my new blog, so any voluntary act of promotion is greatly appreciated, as long as you @ this blog. That's all I can say atm, so make sure to check out the pages on my blog, especially the Rules page, and I'll see you in the Workshop!

#Doctor Innovatium #alice #roleplay blog #roleplay #ask blog #blog intro #roleplay intro

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 6 years ago

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Psycho Analysis: Yoshikage Kira

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

“You can call me Yoshikage Kira. I'm currently 33 years old. Not that you'd care, but I reside in northeast Morioh's villa district. Also, I've yet to marry. In order to make a living, I work for Kame Yu department stores. After a long day's work, I return home no later than 8 PM. I don't like smoking, but do enjoy the occasional drink. I'm always in bed by 11 PM, and I make it a point to get no less than 8 hours of sleep each night. Before bed, I drink a warm glass of milk. It's always coupled with 20 minutes of stretching to decompress from the long workday. Sweet dreams are the usual result of this. I then awake as refreshed and recharged as a newborn child, ready to take on the day's challenges. And after my last checkup, I was given a clean bill of health. For as long as I could remember, I've done everything in my power to live a productive life that allows me to pursue a lasting inner peace. This may be a foreign concept, but I choose not to concern myself with winning or losing, life's troubles, or enemies who bring sleepless nights. That is how I cope with this backwards life we find ourselves living. It's what brings me happiness in a world fraught with hardship and misery. Of course, if I were ever to engage in combat, I would win the battle without question.”

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure is an absolute wealth of fantastic villains, some of the absolute best fiction has to offer. Villains like Dio and Funny Valentine and Diavolo and Pucci have become iconic among fans for their crazy personalities, quotable lines, powerful stands, unique designs, and overall character. But one villain stands out as perhaps the greatest creation of Hirohiko Araki, the villain of what is arguably the best part of the franchise: Yoshikage Kira of Diamond is Unbreakable.

Kira is the remorseless serial Killer who has been living in plain sight in Morioh for years, killing women and taking their hands to be his “girlfriends.” He miraculously was never caught despite being active for over a decade, due to a combination of sheer luck and his incredibly dangerous Stand Killer Queen. The utterly terrifying part is that for the most part he seems like an absolutely normal, average guy who otherwise wouldn’t stand out too much in a crowd (well, by JoJo standards anyway, he does dress a bit too colorfully to fit in to a crowd in the real world). This is also what makes him so great as a JoJo villain: even among the others, he stands out. Kind of ironic, all things considered.

Actor: The dub chose to grace Kira with the voice of D.C. Douglas, who you may know as Albert Wesker or Legion. To say that his voice work is perfect would be an understatement; he truly sells Kira as a normal guy while at the same time leaving an air of uncomfortable dread around every word Kira says. And when Kira snaps… brrrrr. Douglas really outdid himself here.

Motivation/Goals: Yoshikage Kira simply wishes to live a quiet life, free from the worries that the common man has. He just wants to live and brutally obliterate women until the end of his days, never being caught or facing justice. This is the gist of his character when first introduced, but of course, things change when Josuke and the gang get on his tail; he then goes out of his way to escape them by stealing the identity and life of a man named Kosaku Kawajiri, and when even that fails due to Kawajiri’s son catching on to him he gains a new ability so he can simply obliterate them all. The long and short of it though is that Kira is very much your typical serial killer pushed too far, though with his abilities, Kira is a lot more than “typical.”

Personality: Kira’s personality when compared to other villains like DIO is actually very subdued. For the most part, he is very calm, collected, and doesn’t really ham it up to any great extent. But when he does, it’s usually extremely terrifying; just look at the scene where he invades the couple’s apartment and kills them if you need evidence of how utterly terrifying Kira can be when he raises his voice

All that being said, once Kira gets Bites the Dust all bets are off. He becomes a lot hammier, though none of it feels like a betrayal of his character; it more feels like after all his desperate attempts to escape and all the fear of being caught, he is finally winning. And then when he starts to lose… it does sort of bring back memories of DIO after drinking Joseph’s blood, with how unhinged and even maniacal he starts to become.

Final Fate: Kira has the honor of dying twice within the span of a single episode. First comes when he is pushed into the path of an oncoming ambulance, which accidentally backs up over his head, killing him. Kira’s spirit ends up on Reimi’s street, and together with Arnold she succeeds in making Kira turn around and face the hands of the wicked spirits that live there, who proceed to tear him and Killer Queen apart and drag them to oblivion.

Both deaths are fitting and have a sense of irony to them. An ambulance reverses over him and tears off his face, just as he did to Kosaku Kawajiri; there’s also the fact that his face being mangled by the wheels of the ambulance technically gives Kira the anonymity he so craved. Then of course there is the fact that Kira is dragged off by the object of his desires, torn apart and brought to a place where he will never again experience a quiet day.

Best Scene: For Kira in his original appearance, it’s almost definitely his brutal murder of Shigechi. When he’s Kosaku Kawajiri, the final activation of Bites the Dust and his final fate really take the cake.

Best Quote: You know there is only one quote that could possibly go here. The single most famous thing Kira ever said. And while the dub unfortunately had to censor the line because there are some words you just can’t say on TV, the line still managed to be as epic as promised even if it did have a bit of unintentional hilarity to it:

“When I was a young boy, I remember discovering Leonardo da Vinci's enigmatic Mona Lisa while leafing through a tome of the master's works. It was my first time laying eyes on her! The beauty before me, well, it aroused something in me... it gave me a rock hard cock!”

The “cock” was bleeped out in the broadcast. I just love how this drops all the pretense and subtlety of the manga’s translation, it’s really beautiful and really showcases just how desperate and unhinged Kira has become.

Final Thoughts & Score: As has been noted and alluded to, there is a hilarious irony to Kira. By being a JoJo villain who does his best to appear as average and mundane as possible, he stands out compared to his garish, posing, flexing, hammy peers in the series. Of course, this really does just help make him all the more intriguing and unique… which, if he were real, would just frustrate him all the more.

Frankly this is the easiest 10/10 I have ever given to a villain. I hardly even have to think about it. Kira is just my absolute favorite villain subjectively speaking, and even objectively he’s just a fantastic character who fits the story so well. The ultimate enemy of a man who can fix anything is a man who can blow up everything, it’s pure brilliance, like a shining diamond perhaps. Then there’s his design, which just oozes cool, as well as Killer Queen’s design and myriad powers, which are likewise insanely awesome. Is it any surprise that he’s my go-to inspiration for when I design serial killer OCs?

There’s also just how he contrasts with the part as a whole. Diamond is Unbreakable is very relaxed and laid-back, plot wise. Compared to the previous three stories, which were all about fabulous muscle-bound vampires trying to take over the world, this is just a simple story about a gang of teens trying to find a killer and protect their town. There’s a lot of wacky situations and side characters, and overall the tone manages to stay fun and lighthearted… until Kira steps on the scene. Kira’s every appearance brings in a lot of dark, terrifying, and truly gruesome moments, and even with some of the levity provided such as his rambling about the erection he got from the Mona Lisa he still manages to be incredibly creepy and unnerving until his dying breath.

Kira is just an utterly fantastic villain with cool powers, a great voice actor, and two really fun playable appearances in All-Star Battle (Kawajiri’s Great Heat Attack is one of my favorites, it’s so funny). And while it’s obviously sad but still expected such a fantastic villain has to die, we can all take solace in knowing that some day in the distant future we will see him again (sort of) in Part 8. Still, it’s doubtful it will fill the hole Kira has exploded in the hearts of JoJo fans everywhere.

#Psycho Analysis #Jojo's bizarre adventure #diamond is unbreakable #kira #yoshikage kira #kosaku kawajiri

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rose-wine-selfships · 5 years ago

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Aphrodisiac

A Fated Encounter

Atsushi Nakajima x Christina Avila

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Atsushi was way down on his luck. After arriving a little too late to see the rest of the Agency take care of the little problem (the Port Mafia) that invaded their workspace, he decided he needed to find a way to stay in this place altogether. He absolutely loathed the feeling of being so helpless while the rest of his co-workers took care of all the action that happened during the heated moments. Akiko, Kenji, and Kunikida took care of them with ease, while it made him feel even more of a burden if that were possible. More than that he wanted to prove to these people that he could do something...anything to prove himself a worthy human being capable of fighting his own battles too!

Breathing out a deep, disappointed sigh he leaned back into his leather bound chair at his own basic cubicle. He glanced down at the small green plastic cover, a small green lamp, and a splayed array of basic work pens with leftovers of unfinished contract papers to unionize himself into the current organization. Atsushi knows he has to finish those papers soon. But after feeling so mentally and emotionally fatigued from today, he decided to push them away and covered his face with the palms of his black fingerless gloved hands. Trying anything to convince himself to think about anything other than the ridiculous amount of paperwork he has to sign to officially become a member.

“A-ts-u-shi kun~...”

His head instantly perked up and shiny golden irises stared back into the mischievous mahogany eyes of the original shaggy-haired owner, Osamu Dazai.

After blinking for a moment, Atsushi’s eyes instantly narrowed suspiciously and he let out another groan,” What do you want Dazai-san?”

Dazai’s grin instantly gets wider and more visible as his pearly white teeth come into full view. It was what Atsushi called his, “wolf grin”. And he certainly emulated the perfect,”wolf in sheep’s clothing” impression down to a T. Dazai decided to get closer to his young accomplice and unpredictably spin Atsushi around in his chair to face him and pull him instantly closer to him. Atsushi yelped in surprise upon the contact of Dazai gripping his black chair armrests almost for dear life.

“Since you told me you felt useless because you can’t control your ability it got me to think about something. We actually have a member in our agency that can perfect the way she can control her ability almost down to an art form. Her name is Christina Avila, and she has quite a talent for controlling it as well as befriending people of all backgrounds. She has an amazing sense Atsushi-kun, and I’d love for you to meet her straight away!”

“ Really? “ Atsushi tilted his head in confusion ,” I never met the woman before. How do I know you’re not making this up?”

“Actually,” Kunikida spoke up,”she is quite real. She’s actually our counselor and life advisor here at the Armed Detective Agency. She doesn’t come out often because most missions don’t require her specialization. However, when it comes to high pressure or hostage situations with troubled people, she’s absolutely perfect for the job as a negotiator. Avila-san is very good at getting people to open up, be confident in their ambitions, and help others be the best versions of themselves. ”

Kunikida smiled fondly before continuing,” I remember when I first met her. The poor young lady was so flustered yet pleasant to me. She did everything possible to help me out with the paperwork Dazai left behind every shift. I can’t be any more grateful to at least have someone JUST as hard-working, responsible, and dedicated as I am.”

The blond, glasses wearing, pony-tailed man shifted towards Atsushi and replied further,” You’re in good hands Atsushi. I don’t always agree with what this ‘ suicidal maniac’ says often,”

“Hey!” Dazai retorted while puffing his cheeks out childishly.

“ But in this case he’s right. It would be good for you to make constant appointments with Avila-san. In fact, I’ll contact her right now.”

Kunikida made a beeline for his desk before quickly pressing the red button next to the small intercom he had at his incredibly tidy workspace. The button made a sharp buzzing sound before the speaker turned on instantly.

“Yes?~” A pleasant, high-pitched voice replied over the speaker.

“ Are you free now Avila-san?” Kunikida questioned.

“ I should be on break. Why?” the woman giggled with her last question.

“ Because I have a newcomer for you in your office. His name is Atsushi Nakajima and he’ll need daily appointments to make with you regarding ability control.”

“I’m on it. Send him over!” Christina chirped over the intercom.

As soon as Kunikida lifted his pointer finger off the little red button, Dazai snuck up behind the silver haired boy and pushed Atsushi with both arms all the way over to the other side of the hallway.

“Wh-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He screeched in a panicked confusion.

“Helping you get to Miss Chrissy’s office!~” Dazai counteracted nonchalantly, using every bit of his upper arm strength to push the bewildered tiger boy as quick as he can to the closed office at the end of the hall next to where the workers lounge was at.

As soon as they both reached the end of the hallway, Dazai quickly dashed away yelling a bye and good luck to his unhinged pupil. Atsushi just stared at the door a moment before yelling back obscenities at his mentor for dragging him around like this. He leaned his forehead towards the door with a slight sweat running down his face from potential nervousness and a hint of fatigue. The young man could clearly see the shiny metal plate adorned on the center of the wooden door reading,” Christina Avila, Counselor and Life Specialist” translated in both English and Japanese. Atsushi drew in a quick breath before gently rapping on the door.

He didn’t hear anything at first, so the silver-streaked young man pushed the door slowly open before stuttering out a couple nervous hellos. Atsushi was completely unprepared for the sight before him. In front of him was a very pretty, dark, curly long haired woman in her 20′s. She was wearing a beige sweater with buttons, a low-cut pink top, small pink scarf, purple midi-skirt, with a pink floral headband and rectangular red glasses that further accentuated the features on her freckled, round face. Her hooded eyelids had a luminous pink eyeshadow that went well with the shiny, small, yet plump pink lips that obviously shone with lip gloss. Atsushi could definitely tell she was a natural beauty underneath all that make-up, but even more so when he noticed how her figure was positioned at her work desk.

Both of her shapely legs were propped up on the top of her work desk, and he could clearly see her dark brown tights that clung deliciously to them with the pink ribboned kitten heels that had small white puffed laces on the back. Christina had the makings of a petite Marilyn Monroe in terms of a voluptuous figure. Large breasts, a small waist, and an equally large derriere with matching thick thighs and hips with her midi skirt barely peeking up the the top of her mid thigh. She didn’t notice him coming in at first. Christina had been preoccupied with using her small white gloved hands to hold a pocket mirror in one hand, and putting on her tinted lip balm in the other.

Atsushi’s eyes widened as she lined her luscious bottom lip with the sweet smelling lip balm. Seeing her doing a basic lip lining act somehow became the most intimate, personal, and indirectly erotic thing he’s ever seen. All the blood rushed to his head, as well as ‘other’ areas too. Feeling oddly uncomfortable seeing her like this, he gulped loudly and pressed his right hand towards his lips, darting his eyes away.

Christina heard him gulp loudly and jumped a bit in her seat. But as she saw him fidgeting around a bit at the doorway, she giggled at his reaction and beckoned him to come over to her visitors chair with a motion of her hand. Putting away her pocket mirror and lip balm in her desk drawer.

“Come on over my dear, don’t be shy.~” she said sweetly before batting her eyelashes a bit.

‘Dear?’ Atsushi’s head began to spin from being called that and let out an involuntary happy whine that almost sounded like a big cat chirping. He quickly made it over to the chair before sitting awkwardly in the cushion, legs clenched together, palms pressed together and soaked with sweat. For the next minute, he couldn’t speak. Atsushi mentally berated himself for being so silent. That he could only stare at the brown haired beauty queen in front of him for only a few seconds before his dilated golden pupils glued themselves to the floor.

“ I heard all about you, you know? Atsushi Nakajima, the wonder boy of the Armed Detective Agency. Now,” she mused as she went through his personal files on the top of her desk,” I heard you can shape-shift into a tiger am I correct?”

Atsushi couldn’t do anything other than just nod his blushing head silently to her questioning.

“However, I’ve also had multiple reports from Dazai-san that you can’t quite control your ability yet. He’s done a good job at recommending me though.” Christina stood up for a moment before walking over to the front of her desk and pushing herself to sit on top the desk cross-legged. Making direct contact at him, she bounced her top leg back and forth in a playful manner.

“ I’m quite the pro at controlling my ability, often to the benefit of others around me. Now, I want you to look at me for a moment, please.”

He slowly looked up at her, a little lost in thought while soaking in her voice.

“ I think you have a gift Atsushi-kun, and you need to cherish it because it will always be a part of you. Now I’m going to help you embellish this gift of yours because every ability needs to have their own brand of touch and control upon themselves. But I’ll need your help too. You need to help me push yourself further than just controlling the were-tiger. You need to also master the stages of your ability, and make it your own masterpiece. Treat your ability lovingly, like an art form, and you have the entirety of life at your fingertips. I know you can do it Atsushi-kun. What do you say?” She persuaded in an impassioned manner, a smile tugging at her lips mirthfully.

Atsushi’s eyes widened again, this time with a strong emotion. Determined to shine through and somehow make this lovely lady in front of him proud. After a good few seconds, his mouth twitched into a lop-sided smile complimenting the current dark blush on his cheeks. His eyes softened and became half-lidded with a sparkle uncommon to his features.

“Sure.” his voice wavering into a softened tenor tone.

“Good! Let’s meet up again same time tomorrow, and I’ll get you started on lesson one for ability control!” Christina gently patted his right shoulder and gave a quick flirty wink before walking out of her office with a saunter in her step.

The silver haired boy turned over in his chair watching her walk away before murmuring in an enamored manner,” I can’t wait...Avila-senpai.”

Dazai overheard in the hallway before giving a knowing smirk, proud of what he’s accomplished in getting these two together. He flips a yen coin in an absent minded manner and kept whistling a nonsensical tune until he disappeared from sight.

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(I wanted to do a ‘how they first met’ story so badly for me and my f/o and I’m so glad I finished it all in one night! Hope you guys enjoy it! - The Pink Prophet🌹✨)

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hellsparadiseessays · 5 years ago

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Aza Brothers Week - Day 4

And the week keeps going, with Part 3 of my Aza Bros Analysis! It was originally released in early May on r/Jigokuraku, right after chapter 55 got out (and got me distressed af for obvious reasons). More under the cut!

Aza bros, an analysis - Part 3 : who really is in danger as of chapter 55?

As a disclaimer, three things need to be mentioned. First, thy enter spoiler territory; flee while thy can, new reader! Second, I am not Japanese/Chinese nor raised in Japan/China, so my take is solely based on the academic documents I read, what I know and what I understand. If there’s a mistake in my understanding, please, feel free to address it. Third, English is not my native language, so while I’m fluent in it, I don’t promise a 100% quality and may make some grammar mistakes here and there. On this note, let’s start a not-so-academic write up. I hope you’ll deem it an enjoyable or educative read.

Screw the initial “two posts only” I guess, depending on the future events in-story, the Aza Siblings write-ups should keep going. To be honest, I initially wanted to wait for more chapters before going at it again, but chapter 55 was most interesting for various reasons. Considering the characters involved, this part will mostly be focused on Chôbe and Lord Tensen, starting with a reminder of Chôbe’s overall strength based on what we’ve seen until now and with the addition of the material provided by the latest chapter, then following with some observations about Lord Tensen – and more specifically, Rien. You already know some of my thoughts on him (considering it’s canon for the seven aspects of Lord Tensen to favour one gender or the other, and that until the end of chapter 55, Rien has solely been seen with a male form, I’ll use masculine pronouns), but I’m going to expand on it and something I said in part 2 considering Lord Tensen’s nature. I’ll then end it on mixed observations and questions concerning the stuff I suspect will happen next in the story. Overall, again, it’s mostly opinion-based – though justified as much as possible by canon information -, so you’re all invited to share your thoughts or cry with me in the comments.

1. Friendly reminder of Chôbe’s mental and physical fortitude

A whole point of Part 2 has already been dedicated to Chôbe’s strength so I’ll start with this, before pointing out what has been shown in chapter 55. Right in the first 9 chapters, we get to learn a lot about him. First, he’s exceptionally strong at a physical level and a solid fighter: kicking a man up to 6 meters in the air easily, starting a fight to death with fellow criminals and remaining alive at the end of it while he has his hands tied, he can handle an entire month of torture and withstand three to four days on an unknown island, with barely anything to eat or drink, and while fighting his way in to the point of having his very physical being modified via a form of alchemy... A transformation that actually makes him even stronger, to the point a Doshi, one of Lord Tensen’s apprentices, who’s probably been doing everything he could for centuries to reach his current level, was not only overpowered, but also openly deemed Chôbe a threat that should be destroyed before he gets to Lord Tensen.

Furthermore, Chôbe isn’t just dangerous at a strictly physical level, he’s also blessed with an incredibly keen mind and isn’t afraid of taking risks when he deems it necessary. When we get to read his train of thoughts during a fight, we can see how methodical and calm he is behind an apparent savagery, wondering if X thing is possible, trying it, and immediately adjusting his tactic as a consequence. He’s also incredibly strong-willed, which has been openly spelled out in chapter 55, when Chôbe himself points out that he’s been constantly fighting against the Waitanhua in him ever since he’s been out of the Tan pit, and that’s why the human Tao prevails for now. But what makes him especially interesting is that despite being qualified as a murderous bandit, ruthless when fighting and often showing a behaviour that could easily be described as unhinged from an external perspective, the insights we obtained by accessing both his thoughts and his flashbacks showed us the human behind that thick wall of ruthlessness and resentment. And what we saw behind was a lot of love for his little brother, to the point of being borderline overprotective while still trusting Toma with various tasks, as well as, in chapter 55, the will of not abandoning his brother the way he feels they have been abandoned by their father. He even pictures Toma as smiling softly with a fairly confident pose, during the dream he has when he’s passed out. Chôbe has such a positive image of him, which makes the gap with Toma’s own perception of himself and his recent progress even more jarring. We even get to see new glimpses of Chôbe’s own point of view, as a small child crying with yet again these still cryptic words, come apart, break down. Whatever these words mean to him (and I wonder if they have something to do with their Lord’s actions), it’s clearly a painful memory and something bad enough to seriously trigger him.

Remember Mei’s “strong weak”? Well, UG is giving us a lot of it with the Aza bros, and it’s what makes them both so strong (little reminder that despite his apparent more delicate nature, Toma is considered a prodigy among the Yamada and can come out unarmed of an all-out fight against an entire group of Soshin. He’s not weak). It’s in their own fears and hang-ups that they find their strength and it’s also what keep them moving forward. It’s also what makes me love them so much (aside from the fact that they’re the type of characters I tend to quickly become fond of in a story). Now, let’s compare that to the other character (s?) we got to see during chapter 55.

2. Lord Tensen: humanity and state of godhood

In Part 2, I had already commented on Lord Tensen and how, in my eyes, they felt so human despite thousand years of efforts to move beyond their condition and reach immortality. Lord Tensen truly is a curious case of scientific madness, in my opinion. And no, I don’t say that just because I’ve been qualifying Mu Dan and Rien of Mad Scientists for some weeks now. They, themselves, are the successful products of experiments on Immortality, and they consciously repeat the process to obtain an even more successful result. The way they organised the island and the hierarchy on it is especially interesting, because it doesn’t just feel like some sort of pseudo-Paradise. The entire organisation – as well as the narration – seems to purposefully place them in a position of Godhood right from the start. After all, meeting them didn’t end well at all for Tenza, Chôbe and Toma, and more generally, all the corpses found in the Tan pit weren’t there for decoration. Even the Palace in Hourai, at the center of the island, seems to have a godly vibe about it – and what’s with the awesome training room Taisei arranged for the Doshi and the seven aspects of Lord Tensen, looking like the postal card of some idyllic beach and hotel in the Carribeans. The thing is, it’s all fake, it’s all pretense despite their intimidating powers. They want to be immortal, but they aren’t. They just happen to be the strongest fish in the pond at the moment, but the recent arrival of humans changed the paradigm without them fully understanding the situation yet. They aren’t immortal, nor are they omniscient. And the Doshi who was aware of Chôbe’s strength never got back to the Palace, he’s still with the GabiGang.

This is the one thing that had me gleefully smiling as Rien got seriously interested in Chôbe as an accidentally successful experiment. Lord Tensen lacks crucial information concerning our Bandit King and is thus not as far ahead of everybody as they think they are. Worse even, Rien let himself be blinded by Chôbe’s abilities and put his full focus on him instead of investigating further on Mu Dan’s suspicious demise. Maybe he sent someone else in his stead? Either way, it’s a bit too little too late to obtain proper information in my opinion, especially with Chôbe representing a distraction in the Palace and the GabiGang not being likely to stay put for too long for various reasons (general security on a dangerous island, a ship full of murderous ninjas and executioners...). I suspect one of these reasons may also create further distraction for Lord Tensen, either because of exceptionally strong people that could serve their research or because of the general mayhem caused on their island (something they doesn’t seem to enjoy that much).

All of that to say, that as big and scary Lord Tensen be, they have blind spots and our band of misfits is in a better spot than we could expect because of that. Because they have the upper hand when it comes to information. Even worse, I suspected Chôbe to become the Wolf among the Sheeps, and it’s happening (despite the bad situation he’s currently in IhateyouRien). We already know he’s an incredibly fast learner – that’s how he got the upper hand on a Doshi with hundreds of years of experience, that’s how he was deemed a danger to Rien himself by the same Doshi -, now Rien is basically giving him free lessons to have better mastery of his Tao and more than that, gives him a good reason to be pissed at someone Chôbe doesn’t consider human (he calls Rien a creature, in chapter 55). What I’m saying here, is that by trying to reach a higher state while living on a fairly isolated island for centuries, Lord Tensen seems to have forgotten what humanity is and how much strength one can get from it.

3. Various observations relating to the turns the story may take

I’d like to add one potentially important thing about Chôbe, highlighted by Toma: his ability to come on top, even when he’s technically the one in a position of weakness. His ability to take split-second hard decisions, his sharp intellect and strong-will already allowed him to take control of a group apparently stronger than him in the past. Considering his actual level and the predicament he’s currently in, I personally wouldn’t treat him as a Princess in Distress. At. All. Granted, Toma’s help will most likely be welcome and a relief (especially for someone suffering from abandonment issues), but I can’t see Chôbe staying still. Well, he’s not the type to rush blindly either, but we may see a switch of role between him and Toma, with Chôbe being the sneaky one until he sees an opening, while Toma focuses on polishing his techniques and becoming stronger.

That’s why, as much as I love Chôbe, I wish to get the focus back on the GabiGang for now. A lot of things will happen on their side, and I suspect it all to happen real fast. Also, I’m still upset by the end of chapter 55 (though definitely not mad at UG, if anything I applaud him for his story-telling), so I don’t know about you all, but switching focus for the following chapters would be a bit of a breather for me before I get pissed at Rien again, as soon as I see his face.

Well, that’s all for now. I’m expecting not only UG to potentially destroy my speculations tomorrow, but to exceed them as well, because I certainly didn’t expect Bochu Jutsu to happen so fast for Chôbe. Just thinking about it makes me uncomfortable, this is the reason why Mei wants out after all, and in this situation, Chôbe is still perceived as a puny human and an experiment so I don’t think it’ll be the greatest moment of his life, no matter how Rien puts it (“how do you like it” to the dude kidnapped, tied to a damn bed, openly disapproving the situation with a scowl and a good dose of snark because that’s literally his only defense at the moment - even his smile has a drop of sweat next to it, and that's visual manga code for "uncomfortable". Did I already say I hate Rien’s guts?).

[Note as of 3 Oct.: Well when it comes to information, Chôbe spilling the beans to play along (and maybe get rid of both the Tensen and the competition in a single strike) and bid his time kinda destroyed my point on Lord Tensen’s lack of info lol But that’s fair, it was a cool twist and one I should have seen coming tbh]

#jigokuraku #hell's paradise #Aza Brothers Week #chôbe #Tensen #essay #my stuff #I still hate Rien lol

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quality-street-rat · 5 years ago

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The Clown!

How Clowns Have Become Scary

Matthew Burgess

Part One

Clowns, jesters, fools, and other such figures have existed since the days of ancient Egypt. Rome had figures known as Stupidus, and fifth-dynasty Egypt had pygmy clowns. Through the centuries, all clowns had and have one powerful connection; that of misrule, excess, and the unpredictable. They mimic and ridicule, they riddle and tease. They perform over-the-top, crazy antics. They cause mayhem and enjoy it, usurping law and order with unhinged slapstick. However, clowns are just one historical monster that can bring terror to people. Studying monsters brings understanding of the past and the present and shows a great deal of human nature.

Part Two

The word monster has roots in Latin, and the root words mean to warn. Stone Age humans had monsters of their own, and massive biblical monsters haunted other early humans. The idea of the Devil breaks off into other concepts such as demonic possession, witches, and the Antichrist. Jeffery Jerome Cohen posits that “The Monster Always Escapes.” What he means by this is that no monster is ever really killed or gotten rid of. The death or disappearance of one monster either makes room for a new one or provides an opportunity for the original monster to return with a new face. However, every time the monster returns, its meaning will change based on what is happening in society at that time. No monster ever really dies.

A monster might be new to some people. For example, if Pennywise the Clown only appears every twenty-seven years, then he is new to the people who are children when he comes back. If an urban legend is forgotten because it is no longer relevant, then when the situation is the same in the future, the urban legend will re-surface. As Poole says in Monsters in America, (page 22) “History is horror.” This also refers to the situation out of which a monster is born. Before the Salem Witch Trials, people were less concerned with piety. Some social switch flipped, and suddenly everyone was obsessed with finding the evil and unworthy in their society.

There are several other theories that help understand monsters through history and are key concepts that aid in studying them. A few that stand out are integral to monster culture. The monster is never just what it appears to be. It is a representation of some fear or desire that people experience. The monster defies classification, which also means that they clash with the concept of binaries and logic. Monsters in general are made of things that are distinctly “other,” or outliers to the idea of “normal.” They invite the removal of moral dimensions and make excuses for eradication of the “other.” Monsters are warnings, are representations of both fear and desire, are harbingers of the transitional future. These all tell the story of history and, more specifically, American history. Poole says “The American past...is a haunted house. Ghosts rattle their chains throughout its corridors, under its furniture, and in its small attic places. The historian must resurrect monsters in order to pull history’s victims out of...’the mud of oblivion.’ The historian’s task is necromancy, and it gives us nightmares.” (Monsters in America, Page 24)

Part 3

When my mother was eleven years old, her parents sat her down to watch the original IT movie. She tells me that she had nightmares and trouble sleeping for at least a month afterwards. When I was growing up, clowns were not mentioned. My siblings and I knew that clowns existed because there was a friendly clown named Pooky that we saw once a year at my father’s annual work party. Until I was twelve or thirteen Pooky was the only reference for the word “clown” that I had. After that, I started learning world history and learned about clowns in the context of circuses. To me they were silly people who wore polka dots and colorful wigs, and who painted their faces with the intention to entertain. The concept of the scary clown wasn’t even a shred of an idea to me until later.

When I was fifteen I started going to school for the first time. I suddenly had access to the internet and began absorbing every piece of pop culture that I could possibly handle. The trailers for the new IT movie were just starting to come out, and people were reporting scary clown sightings all over the country. I personally was not then and am not now scared of clowns. However, I could see that people were terrified of them and that fascinated me. I was more interested in the intentions of the people behind the masks than the unexpected presence of them. Fast forward to 2018, and I started watching American Horror Story. Seasons four and six heavily featured clowns as something scary. There was Twisty the Clown with his terrifying blown off mouth and tendency to kidnap children and attempt to entertain them, and there was the cult who wore clown masks and intimidated Sarah Paulson’s character. The cult was more effective than not because of the character’s coulrophobia, or fear of clowns. 1 Around the same time I watched the movie Suicide Squad, and became similarly fascinated with the character of the Joker. I started doing research and found that Jared Leto’s Joker was not the first one. There was a theory that proposed that there were three different Jokers, regardless of actor or illustrator. One, the thief and killer. Two, the silly one who had no real reason to perform any of his evil deeds, known as the “Clown Prince of Crime.” Third, the homicidal maniac.

As I’ve said, I am not afraid of clowns. But the reason why people are afraid of them enthrall me. Firstly, clowns are allowed to say things that the rest of us can’t. They dress up their words as jokes, but they can say the most shocking and inappropriate things. They can challenge those in power with no consequences. Second, humans inherit fear. Studies done in Georgia and Canada show that fear of a thing can be passed down through a family line. For example, if a parent was mauled by a tiger, and then had a child and disappeared, the child would be frightened if they saw a tiger. Also, the face paint of a clown elicits the same response as the uncanny valley. Clowns were first thought to be scary in the late 1940’s and 1950’s. Clowns worked very closely with children. Adults began to get paranoid about these clowns, grown men, abusing their children. Maybe some were, but the majority merely wanted to make the children laugh and smile. The adults started to tell their children to avoid the clowns. Later in the 80’s, slasher films were on the rise. Moviemakers were making anything into killers. Audrey the plant, cute little gremlins, worms, blobs, and clowns. Stephen King’s IT was written and released during this time. Since then, many scary clowns have existed. The Joker, Harley Quinn the Harlequin, Pennywise, Twisty, the Jigsaw puppet, the Terrifier. These all serve as a cultural lens to help explain social changes.

Part 4

The monster of the clown resonates with me because the idea of the scary clown is so wide-spread and can now be passed off as an “everyone knows that” statement. The why fascinates me. Clowns represent the both the fear of truth and the fear of lies. Clowns can say the unsayable and topple those in power with the truth. On the other hand, their fixed grins and otherwise blank faces are the embodiment of a lie, because you can’t tell who they are behind the mask.

From the earliest days of human history, there was some form of a clown. The clowns always had something to represent, and they always came back. To look at another point of view, most clowns were simple entertainers turned into frighteners by people who wanted to dispose of them. However, the clowns that were actually scary (Pennywise, Jigsaw, etc.) were warnings of what might happen if you mess with the truth. Pennywise changes form; he is the embodiment of lies. Jigsaw is transparent about his intentions; he is the cold, hard, bitter truth.

The sometimes-maudlin behavior of clowns invites sympathy. It suggests that maybe they are simply misunderstood, that maybe they deserve to be loved. However, they always snap back with something unexpected. It is a general consensus in the monster-f**ker community that clown-f**kers are the lowest of the low. However, if I may loosely quote one of my online followers on the subject: “...Sir Pennywise is a shnack.” Unfortunately, the spelling is a direct quote. I cannot pretend to know why people are attracted to clowns, Pennywise especially, but they are and there’s unfortunately nothing to be done about it.

Putting aside peoples’ attraction to clowns, to close this thought I’d like to quote Derek Kilmer in saying “the stories we tell say something about us.” Clowns may not be everyone’s fear. However, the culture we as people created also created clowns and the fear of them.

Part 5

Studying monsters can be a useful endeavor. History of America is the history of monsters. Therefore, if you study monsters, you study America. From the dehumanization of Native Americans by the Pilgrims to the fascination with aliens today, monsters have shaped America and been shaped by American society. This theory is called Reciprocal Determination. Instead of one thing causing another, two things cause each other. America’s society has been shaped by witches, by vampires, by zombies, by clowns. And society has, in return, created the monsters it claims to hate so much. People care about monsters. We created them, as they create us.

Clowns represent America’s relationship with truth. Depending on the kind of clown and when it appears, we can determine how Americans deal with lies. Early in the century, clowns were more jovial and friendly. People were complacent with letting bad things get swept under the rug. Harsh truths and cruel facts were ignored and glossed over. Abused spouses and homosexual relationships along with literal genocide and corrupt leadership had people looking the other way, because they were more concerned with image than anything else. But as time went on, people became less concerned with image and more concerned with truth. There are of course those who still value image over truth, but they are the minority. Corrupt leaders cannot hide anymore. LGBT+ folk can finally openly live their truth. Abuse is not tolerated. But at the same time, the clowns are getting scarier. Some people might say that this is simply correlation and not causation, and that is also a valid view, but I believe that it is, without a doubt, causation.

Monsters teach us not only our history, but who we are. They tell us the truth behind our lies. They challenge the master narrative and demonstrate impermanent borders between morality, truth, fear, and desire.

Footnotes

1 This phobia was also featured in the long-running show Supernatural, however in that show it’s played for humor.

#clowns #essay #monster paper #history

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slashertalks · 6 years ago

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So I really just want to bang this out— you’re gonna have to forgive any sloppy organization with what I’m about to throw at y’all.

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it a thousand times over: I firmly believe that the Rob Zombie remake of Halloween is the superior Halloween film. Out of all of them. It’s a darker, grittier, edgier version, yes; it’s a Rob Zombie film. It’s also a film with much more emotional depth than any of the others, and I feel that the second one in particular treats Laurie with more fairness with regards to her mental state and the expectations of others around her. I’ll expand on this in a bit.

Right, so, clearly that’s an example of a remake surpassing (in my opinion) the original. I respect any differing opinions and will happily acknowledge that the original John Carpenter version is a classic, but I stand firm by my own opinion that it’s a classic film that happens to suck shit compared to its remake. What, then, about the other main focus on this bit of writing? My Bloody Valentine 3D. So, I said in the little preview thing that I thought My Bloody Valentine 3D sucked shit too; it’s a remake that fell completely flat compared to its original, a reverse of the Halloween situation. But then, there are other remakes than Rob Zombie’s Halloween that have outshined the original; John Carpenter’s The Thing is a clear example. Why have I specifically chosen Rob Zombie’s remake? Three things: gritty tones, vulgarity, and mental health.

Rob Zombie movies make heavy use of grit and dark color palettes, and his remake of Halloween is no exception, but he balances this all out with bright colors as well. The opening scene of Halloween (2007) makes use of a lot of nice blues, oranges, whites, and pink. It IS muted, but not gray— this is important: you can have a muted color palette without turning everything a dull grayish-[insert color]. He maintains his visual aesthetic while keeping the colors distinct, letting them pop just enough to signify that things are, to some extent, normal. Even when the film turns dark and Michael begins killing, there are a lot of blues and teals, not browns or flat grays, which keeps things visually interesting and prevents anything from looking overly washed-out.

On the other hand, in My Bloody Valentine 3D, from a beginning scene in a bar to the end confrontation in the mine, it’s.... brown. Not that there’s anything wrong with brown, but as a muted color palette it becomes boring. Blue is a color that clearly conveys a mood, and the brown of the leaves and purple of Laurie’s shirt can still come through as a pop of color. Warm browns can also contain a lot fo really nice, welcoming shades, and really dark browns can be equally pleasing. The main issue with the use of a mainly brown color palette with My Bloody Valentine 3D is that it’s a muted brown, and it doesn’t allow for the combinations of colors that Rob Zombie uses. It’s a muddy, grayed-out mess that tries and fails to be a moody, muted palette. They do switch between a grey-blue and a grey-brown, but it doesn’t do much to help except make the ugly mud brown of Jensen Ackle’s “Bland Horror Protag” costume stand out even more.

The one pop of real color in that bar scene? A tiny little neon sign. The original My Bloody Valentine also uses a muted color palette (the weather is pretty grey and a lot of the scenery is dark, so it’s kind of a forced palette), but there are lots of bright(!!!) reds from Valentine’s Day decorations (versus that muted brown-pink of the hearts pictured above), and bright colors on the miner’s clothes— Sylvia has a pretty lavender top, Howard wears a lot of red consistently, John’s got ginger hair, so on and so forth.

As for grit, I find it seriously amusing that the original My Bloody Valentine had much grosser gore than its remake, which was clearly trying to up the “grit.” Where Rob Zombie makes use of blood and gore, of grit, as an aesthetic, it feels much more natural coming from his films; same with the gore in the original My Bloody Valentine. The remake tried to make everything grittier, with their obligatory naked woman kill and their hospital scene where the room is entirely drenched in blood, it all winds up losing its shock value. Its main point wasn’t to successfully scare, it was to outdo its predecessor. Rob Zombie wasn’t fighting back against the original Halloween, he was making his own movie. By using a system of aesthetics already established in his films, one that he works well with, the heavy gore, nudity, and vulgarity in the Halloween remake wind up coming across as natural.

On the topic of vulgarity, I found the swearing in My Bloody Valentine 3D laughable. It’s not as if people don’t swear, but it’s another thing that comes across as forced, as if the film is trying to be “My Bloody Valentine But Edgy” instead of a good movie. Casting is also important here. They may only try to pass Jensen Ackles off as a teenager for a few minutes, but there’s something hilarious to me about seeing a thirty year old man trying to be eighteen, and then seeing the same thirty year old man acting his own age, and the movie expecting me to go “yeah, that was absolutely a teenager and this is absolutely an adult, and they’re not at all exactly the same but in slightly different clothes.” Rob Zombie cast an eighteen year old to play Laurie Strode, and while she does swear more and make sexual jokes it doesn’t feel forced— teenagers do act like that, but it’s just totally laughable when an adult tries to act like a teenager. Casting an actual teenager, even if only for a short prequel scene, makes all the difference in the world when it comes to believability.

Then, there’s mental illness. Both of the originals, John Carpenter’s Halloween and the 1981 My Bloody Valentine, don’t really tackle mental illness. Yeah, Michael’s been in a mental hospital, and yeah, Axel clearly has some issues after watching Harry Warden murder his father, but it’s not the main issue of the film. Rob Zombie’s second Halloween movie (2009) and My Bloody Valentine 3D both explicitly tackle mental illness, and again... My Bloody Valentine 3D fails. Horribly.

I think the reason I don’t have a problem with Laurie’s mental issues being so explicitly discussed in RZ’s Halloween 2 is that he doesn’t expect her to hold herself together. She’s a kid who went through something traumatizing and has no idea how to cope. Her main support network, both of the Bracketts, are ALSO trying to cope in different ways. The Sheriff is trying to move on without really confronting that he almost lost Annie; Annie is also trying to move on, and maybe she’s succeeding a little more than her father since she isn’t as uptight about Halloween coming around again. It also isn’t that Laurie’s not trying to move on, but that she’s explicitly struggling and acts out the way someone who feels trapped in a corner often does. Her breakdown isn’t scary, it’s tragic. She’s sad, scared, angry and confused and her death isn’t meant to shock. Sheriff Brackett doesn’t call for Laurie to be shot when he sees her at the end, he shouts for his men to stop shooting but they don’t listen. Sheriff Brackett, even seeing his adopted daughter so unhinged, doesn’t condemn her; it’s the actions of other people that cost him both of his daughters in the same damn night.

My Bloody Valentine 3D also tackles trauma following a set of murders, but instead of presenting Tom’s trauma as something sad, it’s a cheap shock opportunity. “He’s not who you think he is.” “Get out of the car.” Tom is presented as dangerous because of his mental illness; someone to be avoided, to be killed. Why incapacitate the mentally ill man when you can just shoot him instead? It’s not surprising that mental illness is used as a cheap scare in horror movies, but it was particularly upsetting in light of this remake because the original My Bloody Valentine is SO charming. The original is such a deeply enjoyable, original slasher film that having such a cheap shit “plot twist” is angering. I noted that Axel obviously has issues in the original, and it’s worth noting that when he’s buried and one of the rescuers shouts that he’s alive Sarah rushes back to him and tries to help pull Axel out. Again, as with RZ’s Halloween 2, she doesn’t demonize Axel or call for him to be killed, she tries to hold his hand and help uncover him— he’s still redeemable in her eyes, still worth being saved. My Bloody Valentine 3D’s Tom, though? Who is explicitly mentally ill? Screw it, let’s kill him.

Good remakes can absolutely be made. Good edgy remakes are possible, if more difficult, but this? These pitfalls of overly-muted, cheap shock-filled movies whose big twists are “ooo look we made a character mentally ill and that makes them SCARY” with no other substance behind them? That ride on the coattails of superior films without ever attempting to stand on their own two feet? It’s hot bullshit, man, and horror as a genre deserves better. The original My Bloody Valentine deserves better. We, as viewers, and especially mentally ill viewers deserve so much better. My Bloody Valentine 3D epitomizes everything I find infuriating about modern horror remakes, and this piece doesn’t even touch on the absolutely bland, flat performances from all of the actors. I’ve never been so bored, disappointed, and angry about a remake like this. I generally either avoid them or hold some hope that they’ll be halfway decent, but this? Fuck this movie.

#my bloody valentine 3D

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ms-camucia · 7 years ago

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"That lightsaber. It belongs to me." Why Maz Kanata Knows Some Shit Regarding Ben Solo

It’s why her eyes are so big. They’re full of secrets.

So, I haven't written any meta since... Well, roughly 2004, and it wasn't called 'meta' back then on 'ol Leaky Cauldron, it was just fan theories. So I apologize if I'm rusty, and if someone has postulated on this previously.

Basically, I have two theories I want to lay out here:

-Ben Solo was the one to find the Skywalker lightsaber -Rather than keep it, he entrusted it, along with some other possessions, with Maz Kanata

Oh Maz, you hoarder.

Timeline wise, this is a little sketchy, especially since we don't have too much canon to work from. We know that, in 28 ABY (Bloodline), it had been a little while since Leia had heard from Luke or Ben, but she didn't seem too concerned, so presumably it hasn’t been overly-long. By the time we see Kylo Ren in TFA, he's obviously been in the First Order for a bit, but for fewer than 6 years, since TFA is in 34 ABY.

My thought is that Ben found the lightsaber at some undefinable point - it may not even be important when - just that he found it, and kept it safe. He could have found it back in the Jedi school days, keeping it hidden, or he could have found it post-Luke's Jedi School Fiasco, but pre-Snoke.

Either way, Ben didn’t immediately go to Snoke after the Luke Incident.

“When I get out of here, I’m going straight to the creepy man who’s been in my head since I was an infant!” said no one ever.

Just logistically, unless Snoke was there in the goddamn First Order minivan, ready to pick up Ben after Jedi School was left in a burning ruin, there's some time between the massacre and Ben Solo becoming Kylo Ren. In a period I'm roughly defining as "The Jedi Killer," since this follows early concept art of a Kylo-like figure who hunted down any artifacts having to do with the Jedi, Ben Solo has some time that's completely unaccounted for.

“There’s some slight boxing around the edges, but it’ll sell as new.”

That's where Maz, and the "Good Story For Another Time" comes in.

So, let's try to establish that unaccounted for time.

Ben Solo, in his eyes, just had his uncle try to murder him. Something goes down, such that six students die, and six go with him. These kids - yes, he’s 23 and presumably just murdered some people, but if Luke called him a “frightened boy,” he’s a kid - are scared, confused, and looking for answers. But let's say they don't just hightail it to the First Order and find Snoke, because that would be ridiculous, no matter how much Snoke has been in Ben's head - the First Order is something that only exists in whispers by 28 ABY, and Snoke wasn’t there from the beginning.

These kids want answers about the Force that they couldn't find with Luke - so they start looking. I'm already imagining some dark, Scooby-Doo/Indiana Jones mashup of the pre-Knights of Ren tracking down ancient Jedi and Sith temples and artifacts. They're successful - they find plenty of stuff, but very few answers.

Enter Maz Kanata.

This is the face of a woman who is already so done with this shit.

Maz has been established as someone with ties to Han, Chewie, and even Leia - in Forces of Destiny, it’s revealed that she's the one who gave Leia the Ubese disguise she uses in ROTJ. I think it's safe to say Maz Kanata is an Organa-Solo family friend, and most definitely someone a young Ben Solo would have met. As said by the woman herself, she knows the Force, and has clearly been around for a while. She's probably one of the first people Ben thinks to go to for help (especially if he's trying to delay the inevitable Snoke In The Head).

So Ben, and possibly the other students, go there, and she probably wheedles the entire Luke story out of a still-shellshocked Ben. Who knows - maybe he even confesses to her something about Snoke, knowing that she’s old enough to have a clue what’s going on with that guy (maybe she even sends him to Snoke, if he’s simply known as some “wise” Force-user. That’s a grim thought). Either way, Ben Solo is a man possessed at this point (possibly literally), and is just generally freaked out and on the run. Maz is old. She’s seen these eyes before.

And she’ll see them again.

(sidenote here - one can lift Finn’s dialogue with Rey at the end of this scene, and it would play out beautifully in IX with Ben/Rey if/when he leaves the First Order, and presumably tries to bail like his dad did in ANH. Maybe he even saves them in the Falcon. Poetry, rhyming, etc.)

This would be some Grade A ceramics right here.

ANYWAY, I get ahead of myself. So, we have:

Freaked out Ben Solo

Hoarding Jedi/Sith artifacts

Goes to Maz Kanata for answers

Spills his guts about absolutely everything

Maz agrees to keep his secrets - and his shit - before he runs

Like I theorized above, I think Maz is the last stop before Snoke. Maybe she tries to stop him, tells him to go home, but sees that this is the path he has to follow for right now. Ben would want to leave behind anything that could be seen as Jedi-ish before he goes to Snoke, and that would obviously include the Skywalker lightsaber, and anything else he had at this point. So he drops his Jedi stuff off with Maz.

Screenshot courtesy of me and Photoshop’s Highlights/Shadows.

I think what we’re seeing here is what was ditched. The lightsaber, maybe some Padawan clothes, what looks like a book or journal (see my fanfiction for my thoughts on Ben and writing things down), and some trinkets and bundles. Who knows if Ben told her where he was going, or if she already knew - either way, he’s on his way to become Kylo Ren. Someone will need to bring him back. Like the Lady of the Lake parallel that she is (someone else has made this connection, right?) Maz knew that, eventually, the right time and person would come for the saber, and maybe bring back Ben Solo - and thus enters Rey.

“Ben.”

Maz basically has this girl’s number from the get-go - she immediately realizes her importance, tries to get her to leave her past behind by telling her what Rey herself wouldn’t believe until it came from Kylo/Ben, and attmepts to set her off on her hero’s journey. Of course, whether knowingly or not, what Maz actually does here is literally send her into Kylo/Ben’s arms.

Kylo shot first in the Great Thigh Grab war.

My final point I have to make here concerns the Starkiller lightsaber fight. Kylo has no reason to be able to immediately recognize the Skywalker lightsaber - it was last seen in canon attached to Luke’s severed hand, tumbling through Bespin’s ventilation system. Unless Luke spent his years as a teacher doing loving, technical drawings of the lightsaber (I mean, that’s what I do as an art teacher), there’s no reason for Ben to know it on sight unless he’s seen it before - and he knows that thing in a goddamn heartbeat.

But we all know what happens after this. Kylo goes from a completely unhinged madman possessed to making this face at the lightsaber in Rey’s hands.

Good lord, just compare this face to either of the ones above it. Boy is besotted.

And thus ends Kylo Ren’s focus on the lightsaber. To him, after this moment, the saber is Rey’s.

He even puts it back in her damn hand.

Kylo/Ben doesn’t fight her for it again until TLJ, and even then, it’s less about the lightsaber and more about the million other things going on between the two of them in that moment. But that’s a good story for another time.

...And I’ve let what was originally a series of drunken screencaps I made at some point turn into an entirely-too-long meta. The last point I want to make is even a bit more meta - with the death of Carrie Fisher, we have lost our maternal figure in this trilogy. If JJ Abrams is a smart man, he is probably thanking his lucky stars that he set up Maz the way he did here, since someone will need to take up the position of the wise, older woman that helps bring everything back together.

If you’ve read this whole thing, congratulations. Sorry I went off on a bit of a rant, but this has been in the back of my mind for a while. Let me know if I’m completely off-base here.

#star wars #star wars meta #reylo #kylo ren #ben solo #rey #maz kanata #lightsaber

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thugnan · 5 years ago

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The Final Scene (PC 2001)

Story: 7/10

Characters: 5/10

Puzzles: 7/10

Chores: 7/10

Final Rating: 6/10

Every now and then I’ll come back to this one because it is one of the shorter ones. The story line is straightforward, and there aren’t too many obnoxious puzzles. I don’t know if it’s because we’re brought back to the stage, I get some Stay Tuned for Danger vibes. It’s s little gitchy, but I’ve only been stuck (i.e. forgot to pick up something I needed later) once in the 4 times I’ve played it. The characters aren’t as memorable, but I enjoyed the setting and the idea of being trapped in a building for 3 days. This game is successful in regards to weaving the history of Henry Houdini into the plot without it getting too preachy.

Plot (spoilers obviously):

Nancy is invited to a movie premiere screening by her friend Maya, who is working on an article for her university and was able to get early access. When she goes into the interview room however, she is kidnapped through a secret passage.

Thug Nan snaps into action and breaks that door down, unfortunately we are too late. Not too late to answer a threatening phone call from the perpetrator. B i t c h don’t test me. The theater they’re at is scheduled to be demolished in 3 days and the culprit is just not havin it. He wants Thug Nan to stop it, or else Maya is about to be demolished too.

No one tells Thug Nan what to do, so we go hustle everyone in the building:

Brady Armstrong: Whoopy, another Rick Arlen type, but slightly smarter? Brady’s dressing room is where Maya disappeared, he is the star of the movie so she was going to interview him. He was not in the dressing room at the time of her disappearance, allegedly.

Simone: If I remember my last play through correctly, she’s not the culprit but boy do I dislike her. She’s Brady’s manager, and needs more of an attitude check than he does. She’s good and ready to exploit the hell out of the kidnapping scandal.

(Nicholas) Falcone: Idk how this guy got in here, but he’s organizing a protest to protect the building. Makes one think that we should be keeping an eye on him, but tbh I don’t think he has the brain power for it. He’s one of my favorite characters regardless. #FightThePower

Joseph: Joe here runs the theater and shows zero concern for my friend’s safety, but appears to be the only one willing to try looking for her.

Yeah for some reason no one here g i v e s a s h i t about your kidnapped friend. You call the police and even they’re like “homes we can’t do anything for 24 hours.” Which is a lie btw, if you ever find yourself in a situation where someone goes missing, please call the police as soon as possible.

Thug Nan has to do everything herself, it’s fine we got this. Falcone is cool even tho everyone seems to hate him? Tbh he helps me the most, cause turns out his granny got jipped by the original owner of the theater, JJ Thompson. How ya gonna do my girl dirty like that Thompson? Thug Nan is going to have to set things straight.

After funking around with Houdini’s old magic “tricks”, we find the room where Maya is being kept it. Unfortunately, not only can we not reach her, someone traps us before we can do anything about it. Joseph helps us out, but by the time we get into the room, she’s gone.

Also someone tries to electrocute us? Which is taking it a lil too far, but as we soon find out this perpetrator is a little unhinged.

Meanwhile, Brady’s manager has a press conference, and you know what that means? I’m about to go thru people shit. We find out that:

Joseph doesn’t have a back up plan if the theater plans fall thru, his original plan involved moving to a small town with his brother to open a new theater, but turns out his brother is dead :C Smoking is bad kids.

Simone ordered the creepy AF funeral wreath someone delivered to the theater that morning.

Brady needs help apparently because he thinks he’s being held hostage by his manager. Is it horrible that I’m having a hard time feeling bad for this guy?

We find out that Falcone’s granny wasn’t the only one Thompson ripped off, he tried ripping of Henry Houdini himself. He ended up having to sell off part of his theater, so technically, the current owner, B Thompson, doesn’t have the authority to bulldoze it down.

Thug Nan gets in contact with Houdini’s decedent, who also doesn’t give two shits about the theater or our problems. But she puts us in contact with the Library of Congress to see if we can find something that can help us.

On the third day, Thug Nan discovers that Brady is actually B Thompson. He thinks theaters are lame and is knocking it down to make some sort of ego-inflating museum(?). Thug Nan tries to talk him into delaying the demolition until they find Maya, but Brady is like “Nah, ThAt sOuNdS LiKE a PoOr PeOpLeS PrObLeM.” Fortunately, Falcone tells us that there’s a package from the Library of Congress for us.

When we get to the projection room to use the projector to see the contents of the package (idk why son couldn’t send a paper copy but ok), the construction crew announces the ‘all clear’. We need to gtfo out there and pronto, but not without our gal Maya. The file from the Library of Congress implies that Falcone’s grandma owned a part of the theater. We also find a set of blueprints that show a secret passageway out of the projection room.

It’s awfully convenient because Joseph shows up to lock us in there. There is no talking sense into him, he doesn’t appear to be all there, like bitch we’re all gonna die, they already announced the all clear. What’s the point of holding Maya hostage if they don’t know if she's in here??

In the secret passage, we find Maya, but there’s no time to get her out, we about to go down. We got to find a way of signaling that we’re in here still. Joseph CONTINUES TO NOT GET IT. He tries to stop me, which would kill all of us? I thought he wanted to stop the demolition? Which is what I’m trying to do? B I T C H WE’RE ON THE SAME PAGE! We may or may not blind him in self defense, but we manage to turn on the sign outside and stop the demolition.

Turns out, Joseph's original plan was to kidnap Brady, but when Maya showed up in his dressing room unexpectedly, he defaulted to her. I just think it’s cute that he thought he could take on a physically fit adult male as a skinny af old man, but okay.

Falcone and Brady become the bestest of friends and restore the theatre. THE END.

#nancy drew games #thug nan #nancy drew #her interactive #old school games #shitty game reviews #game summary

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bookoftheironfist · 6 years ago

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Iron Fist Week: Day 7/8

Netflix Iron Fist’s Contribution to the Legacy

I will continue to post about this show for as long as this blog is around. Shou-Lao willing, maybe Netflix will realize their mistake and bring Iron Fist and Luke Cage back (here are the petitions: IF, LC). But for the moment, I wanted to briefly acknowledge my favorite ways in which this adaptation varies from the source material. As a comics nerd first and foremost, the original stories will always be my favorites-- and that goes for everything, not just Iron Fist. But all adaptations strive to improve upon and add complexity to pre-existing characters and narratives, and the showrunners made some really fascinating choices that I absolutely love. Here are few, in no particular order.

Harold Meachum

Harold is alive for a grand total of one issue in the comics, for as long as it takes for Danny to battle his way into Harold’s office, change his mind about killing him, and then witness a mysterious figure finish the job. Thus, I’d assumed that he would be short-lived in the show as well. I thought he might make it halfway through Season 1, at most, before getting offed. Instead, Scott Buck took him in completely the opposite direction, by turning him into a homicidally unhinged servant of the Hand who literally refuses to die. Giving Harold this horrifying supernatural twist made him a fun, shocking character with an unpredictable arc. And this unpredictability, coupled with his domineering personality and tendency toward sudden violence, made him a hugely threatening character and thus a phenomenal antagonist.

Ward Meachum

Ward was another big surprise. In the comics he is a spineless, slimy minor villain, Joy’s uncle with whom she is forced to share CEO status after Harold’s death, and whose most memorable moment is being burned alive by the Super Skrull. But in the show he is a victim, twisted by a life of abuse into a fascinatingly broken person. This characterization was further enhanced by his touching sibling relationship with Joy, and his horrifying dynamic with his abusive undead father-- all made possible thanks to the smart decision to slide him down a generation. Most of what I found interesting about Ward in Season 1 died with Harold, but even in Season 2 he has a compelling arc surrounding the question of how one recovers from something like that. I was very impressed.

Bakuto

Bakuto is also from the comics-- in fact, he’s a Daredevil character. As in the show, he runs the South American branch of the Hand. He is brash and irreverent and a jerk, and opposes Matt Murdock’s bid to lead the Hand before quickly being killed off by Snakeroot. But in the show he is far more memorable-- an entertainingly charismatic leader who is charming one minute and threatening the next. His scheming, his manipulation of everyone around him (most notably Colleen), and the style with which he did it was great fun to watch. I’m glad Colleen got to kill him, but I’m going to miss him just the same.

Colleen’s Hand Ties

Daredevil Season 2 introduced the Hand in the way they’re usually presented in the comics: as a group of faceless, vaguely sinister ninjas. Iron Fist took this weak introduction and gave it some backbone-- both with a fantastic reinvention of Bakuto (as just mentioned), but also thanks to Colleen and her students. Colleen does have a Hand connection in the comics. Her mother worked for them as an assassin, and she briefly allied herself with them during “Shadowland”. But in the show, the situation is different. Her utter devotion to the Hand provides context for how they are able to recruit even the best people to their ranks, thus providing the group with a necessary complexity. And Colleen’s journey of losing and reinventing her identity thanks to that connection is highly compelling.

Danny’s Rearranged Revenge Quest

I’ve written about this before, but it will always be one of my favorite aspects of this adaptation. For the sake of realism, Danny’s fun origin story hike through the Himalayas was turned into a plane trip. Thus, instead of being blatantly murdered/left to die by Harold, Wendell and Heather’s deaths seem like accidents. Harold isn’t even there. But as in the comics, Netflix Danny is still desperate for closure, and in this universe, he doesn’t have any idea how to find that closure. He doesn’t have a target on whom to enact vengeance. Thus, rather than returning to NYC and just going after Harold at the beginning of the story, as he does in the comics, his story arc turns into a journey of self-discovery, in which Danny eventually realizes that he is on a revenge quest, and comes to learn who to blame. It turns that vital plot point into the climax of the story, and it’s brilliant.

Priya

In the comics, Davos’s family tension is with his father-- who he eventually murders. He and Lei Kung have a fraught dynamic, born of a complex tangle of issues. But Iron Fist Season 2 did something awesome-- it gave Davos a mother. I would have loved to see more of Lei Kung, since he’s one of my favorite characters, but Priya is also fascinating. While in the comics, Lei Kung did not want Davos to become the Iron Fist, in the MCU Priya puts tremendous pressure on her son to achieve greatness. Her motivations are a mystery, but she is a powerful new character who presents a compelling new narrative surrounding Davos’s backstory. As much of a terrible person as she is, she’s really, really interesting.

Danny and Davos’s Relationship

I’ve written about this before too. Like Ward, Davos was moved down a generation. In the comics, he was best friends with Wendell Rand, and later transferred his vendetta onto Danny. But making him younger resulted in an extremely close, emotional dynamic between Danny and Davos. They falling-out is devastating, and their effort to negotiate their shifting feelings about each other is heartbreaking. And all of this was further enhanced in Season 2 when we learned that they are actually brothers, not just very close friends. This cross-generational rivalry from the comics was transformed into an emotional rollercoaster of a plotline of siblings torn apart by shared aspirations and betrayal.

The Brand

There is a lot of variation in the look of the dragon brand in the comics, both due to redesigns and because it’s tricky to draw, so each artist approaches it differently. But the show’s version is my favorite. I love the little details along the body, and the gracefulness and intricacy of the design. The fact that it is asymmetrical adds motion to the image, making it extra dynamic and striking.

#MCU #Netflix Iron Fist #ironfistweek

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