#twink on twink violence is about to occur
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1, 6 & 10 for the choose violence ask game? 🔥

1. The character that everyone gets wrong
All of them Lucifer and Diavolo for the sheer amount of weird sexualization/woobification that occurs with them. Tbh I think it’s worse with Diavolo because he has brown skin. The amount of times I’ve seen people refer to Diavolo as “animalistic” or ��feral” is too many to count. Stop that shit.
6. Which ship fans are the most annoying?
Solodeus. Immediately Solodeus. Not only do they read WAY too much into canon and twist it in a way that provides “evidence” (cough Solomon has rebuffed Asmo’s advances every time cough) but they ALSO have a tendency to completely make Asmo into some subby mega twink while reducing Solomon to “Guy that fucks Asmo” and it makes me kinda nauseous…. I think the Solodeus tags are the only om fandom tags I have blocked LMAO I’m a giant hater.
10. Worst part of fanon
Literally been staring into nothing for 5 minutes just thinking about how I can answer this. Every point I think of can be summed up in “Om fandom’s literacy rate is absolute shit” and “There is a massive problem regarding racism, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia and ableism in this online space that is rarely addressed”
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🎟️
This is your ticket to go on a ramble of anything that’s on your mind or anything you want to go ahead and share! Lore, creations, thoughts, anything that’s interesting you lately.
Guys. Guys im losing my fucking MIND over someone NO ONE EVEN KNOWS… guys im sorry im throwing a random hsr oc on ya.
Meet Pyotr, this fucking twink.
So. this man. He’s on his own little musical group. This man is a flautist (somehow) even though his personal work has ALWAYS without fail incorporated some form of explosion or fire
(His hat is a mortar. I think that’s funny. He uses a cannon in his burst too)
SO. how tf do you link music to boom boom? I got the idea that he was either some kinda soldier or grew up on a battlefield. Probably both. So this lil kid discovers that maybe the cacophony produces a symphony. If you line it up right, you can hear music even in the most guttural sounds. He has very. strange. opinions of what sounds good, but his music does stand out in good ways. Good enough that some people followed him at least.
He has a very flamboyant, energetic and reckless personality. Not much of a thinker, but he’ll ram his head headfirst into any problem he has. He enjoys brute forcing his issues because a cannon solves half his problems, his leader solves the other half.
He comes off as being highly insensitive, but he’s just very brash, but at the same time not straightforward. He’s more quick to throw an insulting compliment than a meek congratulations.
Some have even said he might have a sadistic streak, due to his fascination of warzones and the violence that occurs on them. He’s seen a lot of it. On one hand, his fascination may just be himtrying to comprehend how horrors as so are capable from sentient beings. On the other, it could be him just wanting to make sure no one ever causes them again.
He’s got a very big smile, and slight canines, which i think just make him look more aggressive than he already acts. He likes to be like an angry chihuahua, but if he needs to, he’ll put what he knows about suffering to good use.
Either way, Pyotr is a funny little man who just wants to play some flute and Cannon in D.
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choose violence: 1, 6, 12 ✨

Choose violence ask game
the character everyone gets wrong
Hrm probably Barriss Offee! This is of course directly due to the racism of Filoni & swtcw writers, but certain sides of the fandom tend to misrepresent her intentions… ie acting as though her goal was to betray Ahsoka, rather than that betrayal occuring as a secondary consequence to her bombing the temple. The temple bombing was an incredibly islamaphobic plotline to begin with but reconciling it with her character is… possible… in that she was so traumatized by the horror of constant death around her that she felt the need to orchestrate a drastic demonstration to get the republic’s attention. But I do not feel as though she was meant to be interpreted as desensitized to that violence but rather reconciling it within herself as a necessary evil to prevent further deaths. But again there are far better and less racist directions Filoni could’ve taken her character in order to make the same point. Like if she left the Jedi order to join resistance fighters like Saw Guerrera, for instance, and we got to see more of the development on screen of her difficulty with alligning the jedi code with her actions. But I digress.
6. Which ship fans are the most annoying?
The easy, obvious and throway answer is obikin shippers lmfao. I definitely understand the appeal of exploring fucked up relationships through fiction. I’m an AMC’s Interview with the Vampire fan. But the romanticization of that particular relationship is sickening to me and a lot of them like to pretend that there isn’t anything like… fucked up to explore there. Like a master/padawan ship’s power imbalance is not typically what these people want to tackly. They just want to draw horny sith obiwan fan art and write about those two fucking from sex pollen (I have perused their side of ao3 out of morbid curiosity. Sex pollen comes up a lot. Unsurprising given the dubcon nature of it, I suppose)
The easy, less obvious answer is probably dinlukes (sorry Ky aslkdjf) or dincobbs like I really do understand the appeal of shipping the single dad with hot young twinks or dilfy men but like there is such barebones support for the ship in the show that it’s nothing to me. Like sorry but these men barely interacted with each other. There’s no substance
12. The unpopular character you like and why more people should like them?
My biggest one is Barriss, but I already talked about her a little bit so I’ll say Arvel Skeen, from Andor. I’ve found his character and what he represents to Cassian fascinating since the end of his arc, which I talked about here. I think the fandom had a tendency to kind of two dimensionalize him / hate him unnecessarily. And then everybody forgot about him lol. When I found his final conversation with Cassian very poignant in establishing Cassian’s values and in exploring Skeen as a character himself.
Send me asks!
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Okay so I gave up on the image thing but I do have some fun texts from my boyfriend from this chapter. And, I limited myself to TWO callouts of Neil's gay sexual tension
Chapter 6:
Her roommate Renee was a mystery...Nicky had called her the sweetheart of the team. Neil understood why as he listened to her talk. He had no idea how she qualified for the Foxes' halfway-house team.
I want to study Renee like a bug she's so interesting
"You take him straight there, you get me?" Nicky waved her off. "Have a little faith in a guy, Dan." "That's Renee's job, not mine. Mine is to make sure we start the year with ten working bodies." "It's not like we're going to kill him." "Kevin already tried," Matt pointed out.
The Foxes' dynamic is literally so sibling coded, it's adorable. They're adorable.
"My mother's family is French." It was a lie that probably had his British mother rolling over in her sandy grave.
Brit-French beef is never not funny to me. Like it's so. I cant even explain but it's so funny.
"Believe this, Neil: you can't put a leash on me. Don't think you can, okay? And don't be stupid enough to tell other people you will. It's not safe. You'll make me want to break you." "You?" Neil said. "You can't." Andrew's smile curved wider. "Ohhh, that sounds like a challenge. Mother may I?" "Your mother's dead. I don't think she cares what you do." "I know for sure she never did," Andrew said. "Well, she had to take offense to the dying part, but I thought that was rather fun. But you're right." He slapped the heel of his palm against his temple as if something obvious had just occurred to him. "I do as I please. Consider this your official invite, you suicidal wretch. I'm bringing you to Columbia with us this Friday."
As promised, my baby’s commentary;

he gets it. (for context earlier I sent something Neil said with something along the lines of 'you want him to bad you look stupid')
"If I go, promise me you'll never touch anything of mine ever again." "So possessive," Andrew said. "Of course I am," Neil said. "Everything I own fits in one bag." Andrew considered that, then answered with a mad grin. "Okay. One night with us, and no more break-ins. Friday night will be fun." Neil highly doubted that.
"Are you bleeding anywhere?" Matt asked. "Nowhere vital," Neil said.[1]
[1] I think about this conversation literally daily its so funny
"Maybe they'll get in a crash and won't make it," Nicky said hopefully. "Really, Nicky," Renee said. "That's a little inappropriate, don't you think?"
Take a shot every time Nicky cracks a joke about how he hopes Seth dies (impossible drinking game)
His mother's watchful eye noticed his lingering looks and increasing distraction. Afraid he'd spill their secrets over a childish crush, she beat him like she could kill his hormones with her bare hands. A few years of this violence and Neil finally got the hint: girls were too dangerous to consort with. [1]
[1] And now youre queer so howd that turn out. Bisexual little mess. real talk I want to kill your mother with my bear hands neil i think it'd fic you.
"Questions, comments, concerns? Anyone?" [Wymack said] Seth pointed at Neil and said angrily, "I'm fucking concerned—"
Coach cutting off Seth here is the comedic genius I came for. He's so funny. You threatened by a twink Seth??? By a TWINK??? okay...
"Personal favorite was when someone told the police we were running a meth lab out of the dorm," Dan said sourly. "Police raids are awesome." "The death threats were creative, though," Nicky said. "Maybe this time they'll follow through and actually kill one of us. Let's vote. I nominate Seth."[1] "Fuck you, faggot," Seth said. "I don't like that word," Andrew said. "Don't use it." "I would say 'fuck you, freak', but then you wouldn't know which one of you I was talking to."[2]
[1] OUT OF POCKET OUT OF POCKET OUT OF POCKET
[2] I would say I hope Seth dies a slow painful death but his death is actually quite dramatic
This time it was all teeth. Andrew's drugs made him manic,[1]
[1] I wanna know who’s bright idea that was. ‘ah yes, lets give the boy known for being unpredictable and violent a drug that makes him manic, aka, unpredictable an violent.’ JUST PUT THIS MAN ON WEED GOD GOD
"Look at me," Andrew said. Kevin turned a haunted look on him. "It'll be fine," Andrew said. "I promised, didn't I? Don't you believe me?"
"Why does Kevin trust Andrew?" Renee smiled. "Because he knows he can."
THIS.
Even if everything in Neil screamed at him to run, Neil couldn't do it, not after seeing that little show between Kevin and Andrew today. Maybe he was pathetic, or maybe he was too jealous to walk away. Maybe Neil just needed to understand. Why did Kevin always get more?
notes:
no big character thoughts on this chapter.
I'm back on my anti-Seth shit, and I will be back on my Nicky hater shit next chapter.
I've read through chapter eleven again at this point and plan to be completely through book one by the end of the day so expect a little bit of reblog spam to get through the other chapters.
I'm just holding Neil like a scruffed, drenched cat at this point and showing him to my boyfriend like an exhausted vet.
But hey!! Now all of the Foxes are here!!
I really like Dan and Matt :]] they're genuinely my favorites. Especially Matt. I ADORE Matt. He's just a guy!!
Lark Liveblogs Literature Part ???: All For The Game Series - Nora Sakavic
I'm doing something a little bit different with this one! In the business of full disclosure, I read TFC (and about a chapter of TRK) in April this year, decided "I can't mcfucking do this" and then gave up. And then didn't stop thinking about Neil Josten for the next eight months and now we're BACK. So, instead of properly 'liveblogging,' unlike most first-reads I do, I'm actually annotating this one because it's too good to NOT.
That means I have a customized (so totally legal mhm) word doc, highlight/unline privileges, and audacity.
Here's what I knew before I read back in April (stolen from my beta version of this post);
Andrew Minyard: Gay(?), funniest bitch alive if Tumblr brackets are to be trusted. Murderer? Has Boyfriend???
Sports. Maybe. Yes? sports.
Drugs are involved. Somehow.
Now, here's where I am going in now;
Ranking the Foxes goes; Neil, Aaron, Dan, Kevin, Andrew, Renee, Matt, Nicky
I have no idea how exy works, I do don't plan on figuring it out.
Do not remember if I read TRK but what I remember happening is far too much to be just the 230 page doc that is TFC so I MUST HAVE right?
Do know his real name's Nathaniel because I did read that scene reveal and get JUMPSCARED by my brother's name.
How this is going to work is that I'm going to put in my annotations for each chapter. Enjoy!
Chapter 1:
"You can't be serious." "Very serious, and very out of time,"
"were a team of talented rejects and junkies because Wymack only recruited athletes from broken homes...nice in theory, but it meant his players were fractured isolationists who couldn't get along long enough to get through a game."
"God damn it, Minyard. This is why we can't have nice things."[1] "Oh, Coach," someone said over Neil's head. "If he was nice, he wouldn't be any use to us, would he?" "He's no use to us if you break him." "You'd rather I let him go? Put a band-aid on him and he'll be good as new."[2]
[1] This is why we can’t have nice things, darling. Because you break them. I have to take them away
[2] Andrew I’ll kiss you
"blond and five feet even"[1]
blond? wrong. five foot even? correct.
"They were champions, and Neil was a jumble of lies and dead-ends."[1]
[1] Neil your self-loathing is showing
"It's not a good idea." "Your opinion has been duly noted and dismissed,"
"It was proof he existed, same as this game they both played. Kevin was proof Neil was real."
"It's about second chances, Neil. Second, third, fourth, whatever, as long as you get at least one more than what anyone else wanted to give you." Neil had heard Wymack referred to as an idealistic idiot by more than one person, but it was hard to listen to him and not believe that he was sincere
"It sounded like a dream; it tasted like damnation"
notes:
nothing much to say on chapter one--- it's a standard introductory chapter to a contemporary(ish) novel.
Wymack sets up the series' key theme with his line, "It's about second chances, Neil. Second, third, fourth, whatever, as long as you get at least one more than what anyone else wanted to give you."
Kevin's demeanor in this chapter is very similar to the Kevin we see up until Raven's come into play--- He's very good at acting very standoffish and tough.
The shift in Kevin when Riko comes into play was actually so dramatic I didn't recognize him here, I was afeared
some of the quotes I've added here are obviously because I thought they were funny exchanges--- others are me English Majoring(tm), and others are just me marking plot, characterization, facts, etc.
admittedly what i've put here is about half of what is actually highlighted/underlined in my doc.
I want to study the dynamic between Neil & Wymack under a microscpe
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??faker ?
#gil bouta obliterate this twink ass#i dont read the bsd manga idk whats going on#unlimited faker works#i just remembered gil is a twink too#twink on twink violence is about to occur#bsd#bsd 4#bungou stray dogs#fsn#fate stay night ubw#fate series#gilgamesh#nikolai gogol#fate extra
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One of His Little Toys
Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: I wrote this for my @starkerfestivals prison au bingo square! I’m stoked for you guys to see it & hope you enjoy <3 Word Count: ~4.6k Warnings: drug use, physical violence, daddy!kink, general things that happen in prison
Growing up in the heart of Chicago, Peter didn’t have much a choice of what happened in his life. Sure, he was smart – but that wasn’t how you survived in his neighborhood. People didn’t give a shit about an ability to do differential equations – clout was won with fists, guns, and the occasional drive by shooting. No one really understood the darkness of the gang life outside of his little sector of the world. The Cartel had a direct link to the Underworld in Chicago – and Peter got caught in the web at a pretty young age.
May tried to stop him, she really did. When he first brought Quentin back to the apartment so he could grab some things to get the hell out of dodge for a couple of days, May cornered him in his room, a heated look on her face. “What are you doing with him, Pete? I told you I’d talk to Del Mar – we can get you a job.” May said the same words she’d been repeating to him over and over again since he turned 18. He’d been lucky so far, not getting caught in the illicit affairs he let himself get lost in.
“May, stop. I’m going to be gone for a couple of days. I can’t work for Del Mar right now.” He slammed the last couple of things he needed into the bag in his hand and brushed past her – the usual kiss on the cheek replaced by discontent and the slightest bit of disdain. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.” Peter wondered how many people said that before bad shit happened to them.
Later that same night, Peter was standing on his usual corner with his new partner, Quentin Beck – the bosses second or third in command around the city. He’d been steadily working his way through the ranks throughout high school and now that he could be available whenever and wherever – they gave him the ultimate promotion. It felt weird at first, to have so much cash and product on him; but then again, Peter never really stopped feeling off about the whole thing since he got beat up into it more than four years ago.
Slipping a line of blow across the snuff box of his hand, Peter took a long inhale and let the powder enter his nasal cavity, the movement of the drug across his blood-brain barrier quick – the effects hit him straight in the chest only a moment or two later. It was his only bump for the night, he needed to keep alert for the busy time of the evening in a couple of hours. When the clubs closed, all of the little playthings would come crawling his way – the late-night hours still upon them.
The night went on like it usually did – he made a few transactions and talked shit with the guys while they stood around, waiting for the next batch of patrons to find their hidden corner of the world. Peter, despite his promise to himself, took another couple of bumps from the stash in his pocket, most of the night spent floating in that weird haze that made time speed up and slow down all at the same time.
Through the haze, Peter recognized the swirling red and blue lights of the cop car about a second too late. He tried to turn and run, his feet a little heavy from the drugs coursing through his system – but he tried, anyway. The four or five steps he took were not enough – all of the sudden, he was down on the ground with a knee in his back, his hands being pulled behind him. There wasn’t any use fighting it, so he turned his head into the concrete below him and let the officer do his thing.
Between the huge stack of money in his jacket pocket and the many, many, many baggies of cocaine, pills, and black balloons in his pants pocket, there was way more than enough to put him away. There wouldn’t be a crying May bailing him out for the fifth time – not after this one. Sucking in a deep breath, Peter waited impatiently in his holding cell; they liked to drag out this process, his previous experiences adding up to so many days sitting in this exact precinct waiting for something – anything to happen.
His stint in court was pretty quick – Peter knew not to name any names or talk about what he knew – so he took his sentencing and waved a handcuffed goodbye in May’s direction when they walked him out. He might as well get used to only seeing her from that distance – 10 years would be a long time to only see her through the partition in the meeting rooms.
The whole processing system of actually getting into the prison took longer than his court appearances. He was used to the bend, squat, and cough – so he blissfully got to put his orange jumpsuit on without further hassle. He thought about all the dumb fucks that came through here and caused a fuss – those people just begging for trouble. Peter knew enough to know the last thing he wanted to do was go sniffing around for anything that looked remotely like a problem. It was imperative to get in there, keep his head down, and find people that weren’t going to shank him when he wasn’t looking.
All in a single day’s work, he thought – a sadistic smile on his face.
His first night was spent in a temporary cell – the big guys that were waiting to be sorted just like him didn’t scare him, but he gave up the top bunk to a grunting man who eyed him up when he demanded; Peter wasn’t going to be sleeping much, anyway. He kept his eyes open and his brain active for the entire night – if he was going to get pulled him his bed, at least he’d be ready for it.
Luckily, the first night went pretty well and he got pulled into a double room later the next afternoon. When he was walked into the cell by a guard, the other side was empty – the protocol of separating the prisoners a little moot once Peter settled into his side of the room. Who was he to argue with the bull shit of this place? The guard gave him a once over before unlocking his cuffs and stepping out.
Sitting down on the flat mat that would serve as his mattress for the rest of the time here, Peter watched the guard bring in his roommate. The man was older, his temples were struck through with white hair. There was a vertical scar across his right cheek that led up to smooth bourbon colored eyes and long eyelashes. His tongue peaked out and trailed across his lip, the older man watching Peter watch him.
At first glance, the man did not scream criminal. He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled at Peter while the guard undid his cuffs, then turned around and flipped him off when the door was closed and locked. “Thanks a bunch, Clint!��� he shouted, his hands gripping the bars for a moment. Taking a deep breath, Peter braced himself – this initial interaction would more than likely set the tone for the rest of their relationship sharing this confined space.
When the man did turn around, Peter was struck by just how good all of those features looked together. He wasn’t tall, but there was a presence to him – his arms seemed well defined in the white jumpsuit this block wore. He crossed his fingers that this guy wasn’t some fucking psychopath, because he could easily see himself getting tangled up in whatever his roommate had to offer. A scary thought for not even knowing his name.
Without any preamble, the guy held a hand out between them, a smirk on his face. “Tony Stark,” he remarked confidently, his eyes glued to Peter. Knowing a challenge when he saw it, Peter slipped his hand into Tony’s. Though they were a little smaller than his own, Tony’s hands were rough, callouses riddling his palm and fingers.
“I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker,” he mumbled out, his cheeks heating up. What the hell was happening to him? All of the sudden it felt like his tongue was twenty pounds heavier than just a minute ago, his heart hammering against his chest. Gripping Tony’s hand tightly for another second, Peter pulled back – a guarded look on his face.
“You’re awfully young to be in a place like this, Peter Parker. What did a pretty thing like you do?” Tony asked, the customary ‘what’s your charge’ question was one he still wasn’t used to answering. It never occurred to him just how fucked up his life got until he uttered his drug charges – possession with the intention to distribute. The rabbit hole he let himself fall down was a big one.
Peter took a seat on his excuse for a bed again, his legs swinging crisscross applesauce in front of him like the literal child that he was. “Possession and distribution. All the hard stuff.” He shrugged his shoulders, irritable fingers picking at the snag at the end of his jumpsuit. “I’m not that young. Old enough to be here, anyway,” Peter muttered, his tone coming off a little petulant. At 18, he was old enough to spend the next decade of his life locked away – he felt old enough to not be called young anymore, too.
Tony threw his hands up in mock surrender, the smirk on his face growing a little. “I should have known. You have drugged up twink written all over you. Me, I liked to steal really expensive shit. Kind of a brainy criminal, if you will,” Tony stated. He smiled wide, like the Cheshire Cat, his eyes glowing a little. “Got any brains in that head of yours?” Tony took a step toward him then, his hand tapping on the middle of Peter’s forehead.
Simply rolling with it, Peter nodded his head – his eyes dropping a little bit. Something in him said to get on this guy’s good side. Part of it was his natural urge to submit to beautiful older men like Tony. He let Quentin walk him into a trap because he liked the lines around his eyes and the delectable way he could give Peter just enough to keep him coming back for more. His true druggy nature getting in the way of clear thought. Not this time, though – this was conscious and premeditated. To survive in here, he needed people on his side.
“Yes sir,” he finally responded, his chest tightening when he heard Tony take in a deep gulp of air. So, he’d chosen correctly. His lips slipped into the slightest of smiles, his instinct finally leading him in the right direction for once.
A palm cupped his cheek and tilted his head up, the man’s eyes catching his own. Peter saw heat there – brown pools quickly being swarmed by the black of his eye. Tony caressed his cheek softly, the touch a total contrast to the look on his face. Then, he pulled his hand back and slapped him – the echo of it making his teeth grind. “We’ll see, Peter Parker. We’ll see.”
Peter kept close to Tony throughout the rest of the day. Their cell doors opened a couple of hours later, guards stepping in to put them in cuffs and walk them out to the yard where they’d get a bit of fresh air. Out of all the experiences he’d ever had in jail, this one – the yard and all the vulnerability that came with being out in the open for most of the block population to see (and attack) – always made him nervous.
He quickly found he had nothing to fear, however. It wasn’t hard to see that the man he was with carried a sort of clout that only long-time crooks and murders could obtain. People looked away unless he was speaking to them and when he did, they gave him their full attention. Keeping his own eyes down, Peter was surprised to find them stopped in front of a cluster of guys sitting on some of the picnic benches just outside the cages around the gym.
“Guys – this is Pete.” He pushed at Peter’s arm, the movement thrusting him a little closer to the group. “Pete here says he’s smart. So he’s good with us until he stops being smart. Got it?” Tony looked at each of them, their heads nodding without a singular argument. Not for the first time since experiencing Tony’s raucous and completely intoxicating energy, Peter wondered what the actual fuck this guy was all about.
Either way, he didn’t question it. The group was large enough to have a perimeter around him at all times and they all seemed to do whatever Tony told them. As long as he was smart – which he wasn’t quite sure what that meant yet – he could count on the protection of the group of misfits that were gathered around his roommate like he was the actual messiah.
Peter quickly came to learn that Tony was the brains behind many operations within the prison. Since the older man’s duty was in the kitchen, he had access to delivery vehicles – which smuggled in products of interest for the other prisoners.
There was a pretty elaborately interwoven mechanism of distribution and payment that made Peter’s head spin thinking about it. He bit into his lip when Tony took him through it all, the massive amount of information that Tony kept in his head overwhelming.
He didn’t need to wonder about what being smart meant for long. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Tony picked up on his submission, the way he called him sir – hell, the way he followed him around like a puppy. It wasn’t hard to see it in his eyes, the want that fueled him where Tony was concerned. When the older man eventually came to collect, Peter didn’t hesitate or struggle. Their lips met in a hot kiss, a hot moan slipping from Peter’s lips. Tony tore away and pressed the side of his face against Peter’s.
“Fuck, you moan so pretty. But you have to keep it down for daddy, do you understand? The guards are only going to tolerate so much shit. And I plan to make you howl when I slam my cock inside of you,” Tony muttered, the words close enough to his ear that every one of them sent a tingle down his spine – the warm breath a swift contrast to the cool temperature in the cell.
He felt Tony reach down and grab him through his jumpsuit, his cock already rock hard. Biting into his lip, Peter stopped himself from yelping, the heat in his core already starting to overflow. Another hard squeeze had him standing right at the precipice – his body a total traitor. Tony huffed out a laugh, then covered Peter’s lips with his own. “Be a good boy and cum for daddy,” he whispered pulling away from the kiss a couple minutes later.
As if he would try to fight against that request – biting down harder on his lip, Peter felt himself cum in the only pair of boxers he’d been allowed. Tasting blood on his tongue made the haze he fell into even better, and he slumped against the wall bonelessly. Tony gave him all of a minute to recover before he was grabbing at him, hands tight on his shoulders.
“Get on your knees,” the older man demanded, his voice low and gravely – the tone one that didn’t leave room for any sort of questioning or argument. He slipped down to the hard floor and waited for Tony’s next instruction.
The rustling of clothes had him looking up, his eyes catching the bare flesh of his stomach before it was gone. Tony pulled himself out of his pants just enough to press his bare cock against Peter’s mouth.
“Open up, baby boy,” Tony murmured, his jaw already slack from the cold air across his sensitive flesh.
Opening his mouth, Peter took Tony in, the older man feeding him his dick – inch by inch. Tony kept a tight grasp at the base and let his hips tip forward to slip the length down Peter’s throat. He wasn’t the most experienced person in the world, but he learned how to breathe through his nose pretty quickly – Tony’s length impressive, despite his shorter stature. As the tip of Tony’s cock pressed against his throat, Peter felt himself drool down his chin, thick tears starting to collect in his eyes.
Tony’s hand moved from his dick to the back of Peter’s head and kept him there – his nostrils flaring as he tried to catch his breath. The hand stayed there for what felt like another year before fingers were tangling in his long curls and pulling his head away – a string of spit alive and well between his mouth and the tip of Tony’s cock. Gasping in a deep breath, Peter barely had time to wipe his chin before his throat was being assaulted again.
The older man took what he wanted until his hips started to stutter. Tony pulled back then, his eyes completely glazed – the look in them a little scary. His hand tightened in Peter’s hair and yanked until he was rising to his feet to ease some of the tension on the strands. The tip of his tongue played with the bite marks on his lip – the stimulus enough to stave off the sudden heat slamming into his chest.
“Turn around and drop your pants,” Tony grumbled, his cheeks flushed and lips moist from the man running his tongue over them.
Peter did what he was told – his head dropping against the concrete of the wall, Tony’s body immediately pressing him flush against it. Fingers were pressed into his mouth a rough “suck” being mumbled against the back of his neck. Tony nibbled and bit on the skin there, his teeth digging into the flesh when he managed to pull enough of it into his mouth.
Wrapping his lips around the digits, Peter sucked them into his mouth as far as they would go – the angle of his head turned not the easiest to manage. Knowing this was probably the only lubrication he was going to get, he laved at them with his tongue liberally. He felt like a fish off the hook when Tony pulled his fingers away.
There wasn’t much warning before one finger was against his rim, the tip rubbing the tight muscle for just a second before breaching – the slide a little dry, but the burn just right. He’d always gotten off on a little pain with his pleasure, so he marveled in it.
The drag of two fingers was even better and before he knew it, Tony was spitting into his hand, fingers gone and replaced with a blunt cock head. Rough hands on his shoulders pulled him back as Tony thrust forward, the stretch pulling a moan out of his throat that he couldn’t hold in – no matter how hard he tried.
“That’s right, baby. Moan for me. Tell daddy how much you like it,” Tony babbled, his words enhanced by the sharp thrusts in and out of his stretched hole. It felt a little raw, the drag back and forth – yet, Tony’s cock hitting his prostate was more than enough to make up for it. Tony reached around and gripped his cock with a tight hand, his strokes timing nicely with the roll of his hips.
Slipping over the edge was sudden, Peter tossing his head back a bit to let out a rough groan – his muscles clenched tight and every pulse of cum drawn from him felt like pure liquid fire. A rough bite on his neck signaled Tony’s release a moment later, the man’s hips slamming into him hard and staying there, the pulse of the man’s cock pulling another long moan from Peter’s lips.
Lips on his neck pulled him out of his orgasm induced haze – the press of Tony’s facial hair against the skin there making him shutter. “That’s a good boy,” Tony mumbled, his hands gripping Peter tight around the middle. With one more tiny thrust, the older man pulled out – a gruff gasp leaving his lips. “Fuck,” Peter heard, a small smile slipping across his lips.
If that’s what Tony wanted in return for protecting him – Peter was more than happy to oblige.
Things stayed pretty regular for a couple of months. Peter joined Tony in the kitchen, his brain a perfect addition to the already masterfully run plan. Without the drugs in his system, Peter could think much clearer. He contributed a lot to Tony’s already impressive plans – the man praising him on near constant basis, sometimes more than one time a day if they were lucky enough to catch a few private moments. It wasn’t like being on the outside, but it wasn’t too bad, either.
Of course, things always get bad when complacency sets in. He’d been absentmindedly sitting at their usual table in the mess when the rival group’s leader sat down across from him. Peter kept his head down and continued to eat. His break was only a few minutes and he wasn’t about to pass up the corn – it was one of the only good things in the whole damn place. Steve cleared his throat a couple of times before Peter looked up at him, a blank look on his face.
“What can I do for your, Rogers?” Peter asked, his voice dry, dull – the pitch of it like he was bored, or something. Tony told him not to engage with the man, they’d been friends or partners at one point, but things went south. The older man didn’t give details and Peter didn’t ask. He simply looked up and tilted his head, the utensil they were allowed gripped tightly in his hand.
“I just wanted to have a little conversation. It’s not often someone comes in and charms the pants off of Tony Stark. Thought I’d get to know a little more about you.” His leer made Peter want to jump out of his seat – the look one that Quill used to throw at him when he’d meet up with him for fill-ups. He didn’t like it then and he sure as hell didn’t like it now. The hair on his neck stood up, his mouth suddenly tongue tied.
A strong hand wrapped around his neck before he could get any words out, the touch immediately recognizable – “He’s not interested, Rogers. As a matter of fact, you sitting in front of him is offending the fuck out of him, isn’t it, Pete?” Tony gripped his neck tightly, his fingers squeezing enough to have Peter tilting his head back a little, eyes wide as he looked at him.
“Yes sir,” he answered swiftly, brown eyes never leaving Tony.
He heard a scoff across the table and felt the whole thing move a little when Steve got up from it. Peter tilted his head down and watched him square up towards Tony, a bunch of emotions tumbling across his eyes in a flash. “You can’t protect him forever, Stark. I’ll find a way to bring you down.” Steve held Tony’s gaze for a moment longer, then turned around and stalked back to his own table, his cronies immediately circling around him.
Tony took a seat next to him and gripped his cheeks. It wouldn’t be long before a guard yelled at him to drop his hands and break apart, so he spoke quickly. “Don’t engage him again. Do you hear me? Rogers is trouble and you’re a target because of me.” His thumbs brushed over Peter’s cheeks quickly, the show of affection rare, especially out in the open like this. Peter blinked a couple of times and nodded, his head in a billion different directions. The small bubble of safety he’d been so immersed in suddenly felt close to popping, his heart slamming against his chest in fear for just a moment.
“I hear you, Tony. I won’t. Promise.” Peter knew the words were true, too. His only desire was to make it out of this alive. At this point in time, Tony offered him the most protection and he wasn’t stupid enough to step outside of it. Clint banged his baton against the edge of their table, effectively pulling them apart. “Hands to yourselves, gentleman,” the guard said, a quirk in his lip as he spoke.
He had that same look on his face when he stepped away from the entrance to the showers a little while later. Peter didn’t hear Bucky until his face was thrumming from the first punch. His foot slipped on the shower floor below him and he hit the tiles hard, his right side protesting his weight. He felt feet slam into his chest and stomach, the lower part of his back and his legs. Curling up into a ball, Peter tried to keep himself as small as possible, the less surface area for them to hit, the less impact he’d have to deal with.
They stopped when he physically couldn’t struggle any longer – all of his limbs like jelly now that the ache and throb of all of his injuries made him feel numb. It took way too long for him to sit up and when Clint eventually came back to his post by the door, he radioed in the incident with a disastrous look on his face. Peter would’ve scowled at him if his eyes weren’t swollen shut.
His stay in the hospital was brief, the stitches on the side of his cheek the worst of the damage. All of the bruises would have to heal on their own, the purple and yellow of them going to be there for a while, if the physician they let him see was to be believed. He got released between mess and yard time, so he stumbled behind his guard until he could see his cell, the place feeling like coming home after 36 hours in nothing but white, his arms and legs strapped to a bed.
The second the new guard on the block, Bruce, left him in the cell, Tony flew off the bed and pulled Peter into his arms. He held back the wince from Tony’s too tight grip, the feeling of the older man’s hands was worth the throb of the bruises that littered his body. Peter let his arms drape loosely around Tony’s hips, his entire being tired – his limbs were beaten, his brain was all over the place; all he wanted to do was lay on the hard mat of his bed and slip into oblivion for a while.
Tony must have noticed because he dragged Peter to his side of the room and followed him onto the bed. Peter rolled towards the wall and shut his eyes, the ability to be in any position other than on his back a true godsend. He felt Tony’s scruff brush against the back of his neck, then heavy arms pulled him until he was pressed against the older man’s chest.
“I took care of it, Pete. No one is ever going to touch you again. No one.” Tony’s voice was gruff, despite not raising above a whispered.
“You’re mine and no one touches what’s mine.”
#starkerfestivalsevents#starker#ironspider#peter parker/tony stark#tony stark/peter parker#peter parker x tony stark#tony stark x peter parker#au prompts#prison au#bobbie writes#fics#fan fics
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Hi! Sorry to bother you but do you know some very strong angst fics about Sam/dean or jensen/jared (with hurt and bottom Dean/jensen)?
Hi there Anon,
My apologies for not responding in a timely fashion, but I’m trying to catch up on some backlogged asks now.
I’ve gone through my bookmarks to find angsty Sam/Dean fics with hurt! and bottom!Dean (no J2 fics because I don’t do RPS):
Between Darkness and Light by Exaggerated_Specificity, 32K, 16 chapters Sam and Dean finally found happiness, a tiny scrap of peace in the otherwise violent cacophony of their lives. They moved back to their hometown of Lawrence, Kansas, letting domestic life fold in easily around them as they built a life together away from the darkness of their past. For a while it was good, better than maybe either of them deserved. Sam finally let himself believe they had escaped the bloody, violent death he always feared was in store for them. Sadly, suddenly, the greed, violence and jealousy of mortal men swooped in and took it all away.Twisted by grief and consumed by revenge, Sam paints his face with a Glasgow smile of white and black and tracks down the men who split his soul in two, making them pay for what they did. [AU based on The Crow, warnings for rape, major character death, graphic violence]
Gossamer by leonidaslion, 34K, 30 chapters (non-linear) Come away, o human child! To the waters and the wild with a faery hand in hand, for the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. [Dean is kidnapped by the fae, warnings for rape/non-con]
In the Long Run by WincestSounds (Cammerel), 34K, 6 chapters AU where Sam is the older brother and he STILL left for Stanford, leaving his brother to fend alone with John. He comes back and Dean is… different.
Metamorphosis by siennavie, 13K, 7 chapters Dean isn't the sub he was before. Sam shows him that he's still perfect. [BDSM AU]
Not Meant to Be by majesticduxk, 6.5K, 3 chapters Sam decides to keep their relationship professional, he stops seeing Dean as his lover and smothers the bond they share. Dean starts to eat less, sleep less and only focus all his effort on hunts as that is the only time he is able to get any kind of interaction time with Sam. Since an omega's mental state of mind is dependent on the emotional care they receive from their Alpha through the bond, Dean's becoming mentally and emotionally drained. Unable to bear the pain any longer, Dean decides that it would be better for Sam if he's out of the picture. [warning for attempted suicide]
Past His Prime by sdwbf, 5K, 1 chapter Sam and Dean have to do a follow-up job. Sure it's in a bdsm club, but they've played around before so what's the big deal? At least that had been Dean's thought until he found himself feeling over-the-hill and Sam surrounded by a host of drooling, gorgeous twinks.
Pretty Now by natashawitch, 42K, 10 chapters Driven to sell himself once more on the streets of Chicago, Dean finds a client who keeps him. [warnings for non-con, underage]
Pretty Tiger by Annehiggins, 8K, 1 chapter Something is preying on young men, something that Dean has encountered before. [warning for non-con]
Rabid by i_am_therefore_i_fight, 5K, 1 chapter When Sam gets back, Dean's gone, and there's blood on his sheets. And on the wall. And on the bathroom sink. [Demon!Dean in S4]
The Heart of the Matter by genevra1676, 23K, 8 chapters Sam is furious after discovering that Dean tricked him into being possessed by Gadreel. He demanded that they keep their relationship strictly professional and ignored his mate outside of what is necessary for hunting. Unfortunately, he's forgotten that omegas need their alphas, need the physical and emotional connection to stay sane and healthy. Now he must deal with the consequences of driving his omega too far . . . [my version of Not Meant to Be by majesticduxk, warning for attempted suicide]
The Pay-Off for Having Faith by ghostboi, 72K, 25 chapters Sam is fourteen years old when he finds out he has an older brother, whom is in a mental hospital. He hasn't seen Dean in 12 years, but now it's time. [warning for underage, though nothing sexual beyond kissing occurs]
Touch Me Like a Razor Blade by ADeedWithoutaName, 18K, 1 chapter For as long as he can remember, sins have caused Dean physical pain. Like, for example, murder. Or lust. Or incest.
What Remains by Annehiggins, 20K, 1 chapter Sam is killed, but something has moved in and reanimated his body. Dean struggles to find out what has happened while he deals with a relationship he never expected to have with his "brother." [warnings for major character death, non-con]
I don’t know if all of these count as “strong angst,” but I hope you still enjoy them. If anyone else has any recommendations for Anon, please feel free to add them to this thread.
#fan fiction#fanfic rec#wincest#dean/sam#my otp#the epic love story of sam and dean#angst#hurt!dean#bottom dean
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#16: アンジェリーク 魔恋の六騎士 / Angelique: Maren no Rokukishi
Angelique: Maren no Rokukishi was a visual novel released by Koei in collaboration with Otomate, a developer of many otome games within Japan. It follows the story of Teresa, a young girl whose parents went missing when she was very young. She lives in the city of Siva with her adoptive family - an unnamed grandmother and her annoying brother, Renaud. After hearing strange rumors about a series of kidnappings within the city, she falls victim to a masked assailant later that night, only to wake up in her room a day later with no recollection of what had happened to her. Read on for drama!

Her brother disappears too, and Teresa beings to desperately search for the boy. She soon finds him within the company of a band of traveling mercenaries. She pleads for him to return, but Renaud refuses, pledging his loyalty to the captain of the mysterious group, Leviath. Faced with a lack of options and her brother's stubborn reluctance to return home, she begs the one-eyed weirdo to serve as his assistant, as Renaud is prone to exhaustion and illness. He agrees, and soon Teresa finds herself on an interstellar adventure, supporting the knights as they serve various clients.

Maren no Rokukishi focuses on the nature of war. When is violence justified? Is it worth it? Do the ends always justify the means? The game explores all of these at some point, and overall, its surprisingly cynical and dark, in a sharp contrast to the colorful art direction. Family ties are broken, betrayals abound, and the action sequences are surprisingly well-written. There are sections in Maren that I found myself completely absorbed in the writing - despite being the type to skim fight-scenes, especially those written in a language that I am not a native speaker of.

Unfortunately, most of the above happens in the final hours of the main route - the rest is simply not that interesting, primarily due to the focus on Renaud. So much of Maren revolves around him, and quite frankly, he is easily the worst member of the cast. Renaud is whiny, naïve, occasionally bratty, and has an incredibly irritating voice. He collapses at the slightest bit of effort, and yet everybody in the cast dotes on him and sees zero no issue with letting him lead his own army. Make no mistake, this is not Teresa's story. It is his.

When you're not experiencing Renaud's latest temper tantrum, depressive episode, or fainting spell, you'll be treated to amusing slice-of-life vignettes of Teresa adjusting to a mercenary lifestyle. You'll be harassed by a drunk, attacked by bandits, threatened with your life at the slightest suspicion, and so forth. Like I said earlier, Maren really only picks up in the final hours, where the shit hits the proverbial fan and characters start dropping like flies. The ending is honestly shocking in how far it plunges into campy tragedy - think Game of Thrones, but actually entertaining. I said what I said.

Thankfully, the other routes solve the Renaud issue entirely. But there is a caveat: in order to unlock these routes, you have to complete the main story first. I am of two minds about this feature. On one hand, I think its interesting that the designers have you experience their fantasy epic before allowing the player to romance their favorite knight, but on the other, I don't think that Maren's "canon" story is strong enough to justify it - there's just too much focus on one character, and he's not even remotely likeable. I did some research before writing this game, and found someone who agreed with me, saying, roughly translated from memory, "...but there was too much Renaud, so I'm taking off a star."

The individual routes are much stronger. My favorite of those that I've played was Giovanni - he's basically the ultimate twink: a hard-drinking, gambling, blackmailing scammer who loves trouble. His route is very light-hearted, which was a welcome relief from the drama present throughout the rest of the game, and his playful nature reminds me a bit of a particular ex of mine, so I'm naturally a bit biased. The main conflict in his route occurs during their second date: he carefully arranges a luxurious all-day experience with Teresa. They go to the opera! He gives her a new dress! A fancy restaurant! Flowers! It's amazing!

It is then revealed that he was able to go to such excesses because he scammed rich people out of their money. Teresa, for whatever reason, is appalled at this, and basically tears him apart, making a huge scene in public, even - and I was completely dumbfounded. This might be a bit too political for a gaming blog, but I personally would have no issue with someone I am interested in romantically treating me to a five-star experience through some rich asshole's money. They'll be fine, they're rich - who cares? It would be one thing if he was beating up orphans in the street, but Giovanni only targets those who can afford a little blackmail. He is the ideal husband. Teresa should deal with it.

Kiefer's route was incredibly moving, albeit in a more personal way - this blonde mad lad is absolutely insane, and for a good part of the story, Teresa is left unsure as to whether or not he wants to love her or kill her. With most characters of this type, they quickly warm up to you, but Kiefer is different: if Teresa expresses even something even slightly disagreeable in his mind, he would not hesitate to slaughter her on the spot. He is also the character I'm most attracted to, and that says a lot about me and I don't want to talk about it.

As I said earlier, Maren has a streak of denying the supposed inherent value of family, and there is no greater example of this than in his route: Kiefer kills his brother, an adorable himbo struggling to adjust to high society, in cold-blood, and then attempts to do the same with his father, who, as we find out, tended to dote on his twin-brother. As someone who has been disowned by my own family, Kiefer's rage resonated with me. We, as children, take in our parent's biases, for better or worse, and when we cannot live up to them, it creates a disconnect. I have not spoken to my family in nearly five years. I could understand and identify with Kiefer's rage. I wouldn't go as far as to kill my own family, but who knows what would have happened should I not have left my home town?

I did not know this when I first began playing Maren, but the game is an adaption of a light novel released after Angelique: Tenkuu no Requiem, which is itself an RPG spin-off of Angelique Special 2. This makes Maren a spin-off of a spin-off, but despite that, I still had plenty of fun with the game - I just wish the main route was realized a bit better. I usually like to replay certain routes to better formulate my opinions, but Maren focuses entirely too much on a character I could not stand. I'd definitely recommend this to fans of Angelique, particularly the sequels mentioned above, as I'm sure the game contains all sorts of references to the source materials, but on its own, it's a bit lacking overall. That being said, as much as Maren lacks, there are certain scenes that were so well-done that I found myself genuinely moved. It's an uneven experience, but one worth looking into!

#otomate#ruby party#otome#otome games#visual novel#fantasy game#retro gaming#gaymer#review#angelique#angelique series#played several other routes but this review was long enough
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Pride Week: Final Fantasy 7
Hello! All this week we’ll be celebrating Pride and the power of positive representations in games. Every day we’ll be bringing you stories and insights from different parts of the LGBT+ community. You can also help support Pride with Eurogamer’s newly redesigned t-shirt – all profits from which will be going to charity.
In the midst of a recent replay of the original Final Fantasy 7, I found myself welling up. Not because I’d reached that bit – the mandatory, number-one entry in every ‘gaming’s top ten saddest moments’ list from now till the Lifestream runs dry. No. The tears were rising much earlier in my playthrough than that. And those tears were accompanied by a big goofy grin. What in this gloriously janky PS1 classic that I hadn’t picked up in almost fifteen years could have had such an effect on me?
I was in Wall Market – Midgar’s gleefully ungentrified equivalent of San Francisco’s Tenderloin, or London’s Soho, a century ago – and the game’s taciturn, hyper-masculine, ex-mercenary protagonist, Cloud, had just donned an extremely pretty silk dress. Not only that, but he’d put on a blonde wig he’d won from a body-builder at a local gym, splashed on some sexy cologne, and had just had his make-up done by a burlesque dancer. And, to top it all, upon emerging from the dressing-room to reveal his transformation, he had been greeted with utter delight by the friend, ally, and (though it pains the Clifa stan in me to say it) love interest who had accompanied him there.
The reason I was crying was because, here, in chunky polygonal miniature, was my entire experience of coming out as a non-binary trans person.
No, you’re crying!
Okay, maybe not my entire experience. I didn’t start wearing make-up and femme clothing as part of an elaborate plan to rescue my childhood sweet-heart from the clutches of a local sex criminal, and Cloud’s family weren’t around to worry about what the neighbours might think. But, the key components were all there: the thrill of a new wardrobe; the unforeseen generosity of strangers; the relief that comes from the support and acceptance of friends and loved-ones; and, above all, the quiet euphoria of suddenly looking the way you’d never even realised you wanted (or needed) to look before. Heck, even the frantic squat-driven glow-up at the local gym was present and correct.
Don Corneo (trans. ‘Lord Horny’), slum-lord sex pest, in action.
I concede, I may have been projecting just a little. But, if there is one thing that queer culture and, indeed, gaming culture, have taught me, it’s that queer people find representation wherever they can, and that, often, those discoveries occur in the most unexpected of places. And here was an echo of the moment at which my gender identity suddenly ‘clicked’ for me, captured in a game I had played and replayed as a kid. It was uncanny.
Admittedly, the fact that I had the uncanny feeling of suddenly finding my queerness so clearly reflected in a game I had loved as a child while playing Final Fantasy 7 should, perhaps, have come as no surprise. To paraphrase Paris is Burning: it is a known fact that Final Fantasy 7 do be as camp as a row of tents and as queer as a ten-bob note.
A reminder: We played this. As children.
Rightly described by Eurogamer’s Aoife Wilson as a ‘bi thirst-trap‘, Final Fantasy 7 buzzes with enough queer energy to power a thousand Sister Rays. Whether it be Cloud’s journey of self-denial and self-discovery (coming-out story much?), Tifa’s status as the living embodiment of soft-butch energy, Reno’s status as a chaotic bisexual pinball (you just know he and Rude met on Grindr), Jessie’s omnidirectional flirtation, the way everyone talks about Cloud’s eyes, the fact that everyone is wearing a harness, or Sephiroth’s, like, entire deal (if you ever thought a twink couldn’t also be a leather daddy, he’s here to prove you wrong), the game is, if you’ll pardon the expression, queer af.
Everyone’s favourite chaotic bisexual makes a graceful exit…
But, aside from being almost impossibly horny with virtually no concern for the gender of the parties involved – a feature the recent Remake has turned up to 11 – the game is also queer in deeper, more meaningful ways; ways that resonates strongly with the origins of Pride month, and its roots in a tradition of anti-assimilationist political protest.
A key figure in this regard is Barret (or, as he may be known to some of you, ‘Gunny’). In terms of representation, the game’s off-beat tone and broad-brush-strokes story-telling sometimes leave it seeming… unnuanced. At its worst, Barrett’s characterization in the original game comes off feeling like the production team watched a couple of re-runs of The A-Team and that music video where B.A. Baracus told us all to be nice to our mums and decided that they had learned all they needed to know about Black people (a serious problem in an industry as White-washed as gaming). But, without wishing to downplay these problematic elements, it is worth taking stock of who we ultimately discover Barret to be across the course of the game: a Black, physically-impaired adoptive father and climate activist, whose lost hand forms the basis for a narrative not of disability, but of empowerment, as he engages in a liberationary struggle to protect his local community and the planet at large from the toxic influence of a militarised form of corporate capitalism.
Barrett Wallace: Queer Big-Shot.
Like so many queer people who find themselves at the intersection of multiple forms of violence and oppression, Barret surrounds himself with a diverse team of like-minded individuals, united not by externally imposed categories of identity, but by a shared set of values and a desire to change the world for the better. This chosen family – for, what is the ‘party’ in an RPG if not a version of the ‘chosen family‘ of friends, partners, and allies upon which so many queer people rely? – comes to include not just a former member of SOLDIER like Cloud, who turns his skills and training against the oppressive forces he once served, but a figure like Nananki / Red XIII, a character whose story parallels those of many Indigenous and First Nations people whose lives, land, and heritage have been devastated by corporate imperialism. Like the Stonewall rioters, the Gay Liberation Front, Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries, Lesbians and Gays support the Miners, the AIDS Coalition to Unlock Power, or the queer activists currently taking to the streets to support Black Lives Matter, AVALANCHE – the revolutionary band of eco-warriors Barret founds and leads – take a stand against a society, culture, and political system that seek to oppress them and exploit the planet they inhabit.
Barrett tells it like it is.
This is not to claim that everyone in AVALANCHE or Final Fantasy 7 at large is ‘queer’ in the same-sex attraction / gender non-conformity sense of the word (though, again, does anyone really believe that the Turks aren’t living together in a gloriously messy, pansexual polycule?) But, if, as one influential theorist has it, ‘queer’ refers to ‘whatever is at odds with the normal, the legitimate, the dominant’, then Barret and AVALANCHE are about as queer as they come.
It is for that reason that, with Covid-19 necessitating the cancellation of in-person gatherings across the globe, I recommend Final Fantasy 7 to you as the perfect way to bring the spirit of Pride month to life in your living room. Whether you think Pride should be a protest or a party (hint: it should be the former), Final Fantasy 7 is both, and, in its depiction of a radically inclusive chosen family squaring off against a militarised, corporate police state to protect marginalised communities and the environment, it has never been more timely.
So, do yourself a favour, unfurl your rainbow flag, boot up the game, and try to decide which character you fancy the most. In the meantime, if you’ll excuse me, I have to see a body-builder about a wig…
For a fun and accessible introduction to queer theory and queer history, check out Meg-John Barker and Jules Scheele’s gorgeously illustrated Queer: A Graphic History (2016). If you are interested in thinking about gaming from a queer perspective, Adrienne Shaw’s Gaming at the Edge: Sexuality and Gender at the Margins of Gamer Culture (2014) and Queer Games Studies (2017), edited Bonnie Ruberg and Adrienne Shaw, are a great place to start. To learn more about the history of Pride and the queer liberation struggle more generally, you may wish to explore some of the books listed here. For some beautifully written reflections on the intersections of race, sexuality, gender, and disability, take a look at the work of Audre Lorde, particularly her essay collection Sister Outsider (1984). Two books I have found particularly resonant in my own gender journey have been C.N. Lester’s Trans Like Me (2017) and Nonbinary: Memoirs of Gender and Identity (2019), edited by Micah Rajunov and Scott Duane. To support QITPOC (Queer, Trans, Intersex, People of Colour) charities and organisations in your area, check out this list for the UK, or this list for the US. Also, everyone go watch Paris is Burning (1990). Right now. I’ll wait.
from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/06/pride-week-final-fantasy-7/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=pride-week-final-fantasy-7
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