#which i do not approve of. there is no such thing as 'evil' types. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

and-claudia · 7 months ago

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Yours Pt. 4 (Paddy x reader) (Speak No Evil)

Warnings: DDDNE (that is your warning that this is gonna get a little fucked up here), manipulation, controlling relatives, lying, p in v, infidelity, let me know if I missed any

Word count: 4355

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After we were shown around the house, we made our way back downstairs. Ant had to go finish his chores outside which included checking on the animals. Agnes wanted to go see them as well and so after getting approval from Paddy, she was allowed to go. Lousie being the overprotective mother she was of course had to follow her out, which prompted Ben to go as well.

“Ciara, why don’t you join them? I am going to check on dinner.” He said, and she gave him a smile and nod before following them out.

I had actually ran upstairs to use the bathroom and when I got back I was going to head out with the rest of them to not create any suspicions just yet, but Paddy stopped me.

“Yn, wait, I need to talk to you.” He said, urgency in his voice.

I walked over to where he stood in the kitchen with a confused look on my face.

“Remember how I said that we are going to have to be very careful about what we say and do around Ciara… she may be a little jealous over what happened in Italy.” He said.

I covered my mouth in shock, “I’m so sorry, Paddy… I thought she was okay with it… I- I had no idea… did she see the pictures too?” I asked nervously.

He shook his head, “It’s okay, and she was for that one night… but after that…” He sighed heavily and shook his head, “And no, I hid the pictures, keeping those for my eyes only… and don’t get me wrong, I still want you more than anything… I just need some time to take care of some things first, okay?”

I was a little skeptical, “Paddy, I have to ask… you told me I wasn’t going back with them… if that’s the case, what is happening with you and Ciara? I may be young and sweet, but I am not one for sharing, not long-term… so how does she fit into this?” I said, motioning between the two of us.

Paddy flashed his charming smile and looked me in the eyes with his piercing blue ones, “You still trust me, don’t you?”

His charm was like a spell. However, it was one that I not only didn’t mind being under, it was one I wanted to be put under.

“Of course I do, Paddy.” I said, biting my lip slightly as I glanced down at his before focussing back on his eyes.

“Ata, girl. Come here.” He said, pulling me to him and kissing me roughly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”

“Okay, … is there anything I can do to help?” I asked, genuinely wanting to help him with anything he needed me to.

He smiled at my offer and used his hand to cup my cheek before giving me one last kiss, “Not yet, baby, soon, but not just yet.”

I had no idea what he meant by that, but the way he said it sent a wave of excitement over me for some reason. And the smile he gave me made me melt. I knew that when it came down to it, I would help him with anything.

Reluctantly I stepped away from him and went to join the others outside. We stayed out there until the sun began to set. Conversation mostly just included the two kids having their own while Ciara talked with Ben and Louise, leaving me to just sit and listen mostly. I was beyond relieved when Paddy opened the door and called out, letting us know dinner was ready.

We all went inside and made our way to the kitchen. Sitting on the counter was a dish covered in tin foil. It smelt absolutely amazing.

“Ta-da!” Paddy said as he grabbed the tin foil and ripped it off, revealing some type of roasted bird.

“Wow, that looks amazing, Paddy.” Ben said.

“Thank you. Was, Libby, our prized goose, out on the farm. Killed it and cooked it with my own hands.” Paddy said as he began to slice it.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do all that.” Louise said from where she stood off to the side, clearly already uncomfortable.

“You’re our VIP guests. It’s the least we could do.” Ciara insisted.

I watched as Paddy sliced off a piece of meat and the turn to walk with it over towards my aunt. He approached her, holding out the fort ready for her to eat off of it, “Our gift to you, Louise, the best part of the roast.” He said, bringing it up to her.

She tried and failed to deflect it to someone else as Paddy insisted further, “Come on, doctor’s orders.” He said and she finally gave in, taking the fork in her mouth.

I had to hide my laugh behind a cough as I watched it all happen. To tell the truth, I couldn’t tell if he had purposely done it or not, considering she had told them she was a vegetarian in Italy. Either way, watching her struggle to chew it was satisfying. If it were anyone else, I probably would have spoken up on their behalf so they wouldn’t have to eat something they were against. But she was such a people pleaser it was satisfying to watch her reap the consequences of it.

The rest of dinner went on fairly uneventfully. That was until Ciara turned her attention towards me.

“So, Yn, why do you still live with your aunt and uncle? You’re old enough to move out by now, aren’t you?” She asked.

Her question must have caught Paddy off guard as well because his eyebrows shot up as he looked over at her and then to me, waiting for an answer.

“I’ve been trying to save up to move out, actually. But it can be hard, making a steady income doing what I do.” I said, causing Ben to scoff slightly.

My uncle didn’t approve of my career choices, saying I would never make a living doing it, but it was my life.

“Oh, what do you do?” Ciara asked.

“I’m a photographer. I’ve done a few bigger jobs like weddings, but I mostly try to stick to private photoshoots.” I explained.

Paddy nodded, “Yeah. I’ve seen her work. It’s stunning.” He said, giving me a subtle pointed look, and I knew what he was actually referring to, “She showed me some back in Italy.”

“Ooh, I’d love to see them sometime.” Ciara said, and I nodded.

“Of course. Maybe I can even take some for you while I’m here.” I said.

“That would be nice.” Paddy said with a smirk that only I seemed to catch.

After dinner concluded, everyone began going their separate ways. Ciara and Louise went upstairs to put the kids to bed, leaving just Paddy, my uncle, and myself downstairs.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay sleeping down here? You can always stay with Louise if you want to. I can stay down here. I won’t mind.” Ben offered to me out of nowhere.

“What? Are you and here still having issues? If you don’t want to sleep with your wife, say so. I am fine sleeping down here.” I said, rolling my eyes.

“It has nothing to do with that, and you know you’re not supposed to bring that up. I just wasn’t sure how you feel being so… exposed to an older man in his house.” He explained.

“Oh, after Italy, I thought us two were just going to bring up things the other has explicitly told the other not to… and for the record, I feel perfectly safe around Paddy.” I said just as Paddy walked into the room.

“The two of you have got to try this. Here.” He said, handing each of us a bottle.

I eyed it suspiciously, waiting for him to explain.

“It’s hard cider, made it myself with our farm-grown apples.” He said, popping the lid off his and taking a swig.

I followed his lead and did the same with Ben not too far behind me. It was unsurprisingly very good. After that dinner Paddy made, I had little doubts that there was anything he couldn’t do with his hands.

“Damn, Paddy, this is really good.” I said, before taking another drink.

“Slow down, killer,” He said, leaning forward as if to say something to just me, but he still said it loud enough, obviously, for Ben to hear it, “I don’t think your aunt and uncle would take too well to me getting you drunk again.” He joked.

“Getting her drunk again? When was the first time you got her drunk?” Ben asked, clearly suspicious.

“Okay, maybe not me directly, but when she, Ciara, and I went to the club in Italy, Yn did get quite drunk.” He explained, throwing Ben off his trail immediately.

Ben nodded, “Oh, that’s right.”

As the two other adults arrived back down stairs, Paddy was pulling out a hand-rolled cigarette. I eyed it, wondering if it was, in fact, what I thought it was. Neither Ben nor Lousie knew I had ever smoked weed before.

“Geez, it’s so quiet out here. Do you even have neighbors?”

“Yeah, all the way across the valley, but you know we look after each other,” He paused, taking out his lighter, “You don’t mind if I?” Paddy asked, hesitating before lighting it.

When he was met with no pushback, he lit it up and took a long drag from it.

Ben laughed to himself before responding to what Paddy had just said, “Ours are right across the hall, and I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.” He said.

“Mr. and Mrs. Gibson. They’re a sweet old couple. Have cute Tabby cat that I’ve taken pictures of before.” I said.

“Well, I guess Someone has spoken to them. When did you even meet them?” He asked, confused.

“When we moved in.”

“Louise, you have a bad neck?” Ciara asked suddenly, diffusing the tension building between Ben and me and drawing the attention to my aunt.

“No, uh… it’s just something that flares up sometimes.” She said.

I rolled my eyes. Yes, she had a fucked up neck. Has had it for as long as I could remember, honestly. But again, she’s a people pleaser and would never admit to anyone that she wasn’t 100% comfortable, nor would she ever let anyone know that she and her family were anything less than perfect.

“Medicinal? It’s homegrown.” Paddy offered her his cigarette.

“No, thank you. I took a pill.” She said.

“Oh, modern medicine. It is amazing…”

As Paddy spoke offered it over to Ben, and I was truly stunned when Ben took it and brought it up to his mouth. He passed it back to Paddy after taking a hit. Truth be told, I wasn’t listening too much to the conversation, too busy watching Paddy as he smoked. The thoughts running through my mind were filthy. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to kiss him right now and have him shotgunning it into my mouth.

I snapped out of my trance as Paddy leaned forward once again to pass the blunt over to Ben. But before he could grab it, I leaned forward and snatched it. I settled back in my seat with my eyes closed as I took a long drag from it. I slowly exhaled. When I opened my eyes, everyone was looking at me.

Ben looked just plain shocked, Lousie looked mortified, Ciara seemed slightly annoyed and Paddy looked like a mix between proud and turned on.

“Yn, what are you doing?” Louise asked.

“Enjoying myself.” I replied, taking another hit.

“When did you start smoking pot?” Ben asked.

“You make it sound like I do it all the time. I just do it when I feel like it. And for the record, like 4 years ago.” I said before finally passing it back to Paddy.

“Who would have thought this perfect, sweet girl would have such a wild streak in her?” Paddy said, leaning back in his chair before taking a long drag.

“She does seem to be full of surprises.” Ciara agreed, sending a worried shiver down my spine.

“You don’t even know the half of it.” I said, feeling a surge of confidence.

I continued to sip my drink and just listened, I had closed my eyes, letting the weed in my system and the warmth spreading through me from the cider relax me. That was until I felt like someone was staring at me. I opened my eyes and scanned the room, expecting to be met with Louise’s unapproving sideways gaze, but she wasn’t looking over here. My eyes then landed on Ciara, and if looks could kill, I would be six feet under and then some. But the moment she saw me catch her eye, she averted her gaze to Paddy as she looked at him lovingly and reached over for his hand. I tried to ignore the pang of jealousy that hit me as I reminded myself that in a few days, somehow, he would be all mine.

“Well, I think it’s about time we retire for the night. Let Yn get some sleep.” Paddy said.

“I think that’s a good idea.” Louise said.

There were plans to go out on a hike the next day so we really should be getting to bed soon.

“Oh, Yn, just a heads up so I don’t scare you. I do get up quite early to do the rounds with the animals. I’ll do my best to be quiet, though, so I don’t wake you.” Paddy said, sending me a subtle look.

“Oh, Paddy, I am sure it would be okay if you slept in for once. I mean, we do have guests. I don’t think the animals’ schedules will be thrown off that badly. Besides, you wouldn’t want to accidentally wake her. He’s never quiet in the mornings.” She said the last bit, turning to me.

“It’s alright, Paddy, I am intruding on your home. Please do what you need to, and don’t worry if you wake me up. I really don’t mind.” I said sweetly enough to let him know I got his hint but not enough to cause suspicion… I hope.

I was gathering up my PJs and facewash to go get changed and ready for bed in the bathroom when Paddy came back downstairs. At first he paid me no mind as he went to lock the front door. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I turned around and found him standing right behind me.

“Shit, Paddy, don’t sneak up on me like that.” I said with a small laugh.

“Sorry, just needed to see you before I go back up there.” He said, reaching a hand up to cup my cheek. I immediately leaned into it.

We stayed like that for a moment, in a comfortable silence, just reveling in the fact that we were back together once again. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine.

“God, this may be worse than just having the pictures to look at. Knowing you’re down here, so close, yet not being able to have you is absolutely tortuous.” He whispered.

“Soon.” I said, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “That’s what you told me, right?”

He nodded, straightening back up to his full height, and dropped his hand, “That’s right.”

“What time do you get up in the morning?” I asked.

“Early. 5:30.”

“Mhm… out in the shed?” I asked.

“Sometimes…”

“Well… hopefully you are tomorrow, preferably with a blanket at… let's say 5:45? Because that’s where I’ll be at that time…” I said sweetly.

“I think I can manage that. Just know what you agreed to. You sure you’re going to be able to go on the hike later tomorrow after I’m done with you?” He asked.

“Hmmm, we’ll see I guess.” I said giving him one last kiss, “You should get back upstairs before she gets suspicious.” I said with a sigh.

“After you.” He said, stepping to the side and nodding me past him to go up first.

I laughed, knowing he was just letting me go first to stare at my ass, not that I was complaining. When we got to the bathroom, I stopped and faced him. “Good night, Paddy.”

“Good night, Yn.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead before passing me and heading up to his and Ciara’s room.

Once he was out of sight, the door to the guest room opened, and my aunt stepped out.

“What was that about?” She asked, confused.

“What?”

“I thought I heard Paddy out here… telling you goodnight.” “He did, he came downstairs to lock up, I was heading up here to change and wash my face.” I said confused by here questing what was happening.

“Did… Did he, um, kiss you goodnight?” She asked, eyebrows knitted.

“It was a quick peck on the forehead, no more than the one he gave us when we left Italy. What’s the big deal?” I asked, getting annoyed.

“Isn’t that still a little weird?”

“No, I think he’s just friendly. It doesn’t really bother me… Look its late, we were in the car all day I really just want to get to bed.” I said before slipping into the bathroom, not giving her any room to say anything else.

When I got downstairs I set an alarm on my phone just in case I didn’t wake up when Paddy came down in the morning. Luckily I fell asleep quickly with the anticipation of being with Paddy come moring.

When my eyes peeked open again I found Paddy sitting at the other end on the couch. He was lacing up his boots seeming completely unaware that I had woken up. That was until he spoke up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked with a smirk.

I stretched some and sat up, “Hm… maybe.” I smiled.

“Make sure you turn your alarm off, darling, don’t want to wake anyone else up.” He said, leaning over to kiss me.

I smiled into the kiss, “Should I just come with you now?” I whispered.

“I was hoping you would.” He said, pulling back and standing up.

He offered me his hand and I took it. I was secretly hoping my hair wasn’t a complete mess as I slipped on my shoes and followed Paddy outside. The sun hadn’t even risen yet as he led me through the yard, to one of the doors of the shed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a leather cord that was attached to one of his belt loops on one end and had a set of keys on the other. He unlocked the door before gesturing me in. When he stepped in he shut the door before moving to lay down the blanket on top of the straw-covered floor.

“Sorry, it’s not the fanciest.” He said, turning to look at me.

“I don’t care.” I said, immediately closing the distance between us and kissing him.

His response to the kiss was instantaneous as he took control and backed me up to the side wall. My back hit the rough bricks, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.

“I’ve missed you darling… missed this with you.” He said between kisses.

“Take me, Paddy, please.” I begged as he began working his way down my jawline to my neck. I had been dreaming of this moment ever since we left Italy.

“So eager.” He mumbled against the hickey he was making on my collar bone.

Part of me was worried it would be seen by the others, part of me didn’t care, but secretly the majority of me wanted them all to see it. I wanted them all to know I was his… especially Ciara.

Next thing I knew, he was moving us away from the wall and over to where he had laid out the blanket. I kneeled down, bringing Paddy down with me.

“Wait, what the fuck?” I asked, feeling something weird under my ass.

I grabbed it through the blanket and found it was a lock.

“What’s this for? Is it like some secret sex dungeon? Or are you secretly like a serial killer or something?” I teased.

He let out a small laugh, “It’s nothing. Promise. And do you really think I could be a serial killer?”

“I don’t know, you may look cute, all covered in blood, chasing me down…” I said, only half joking.

“What is wrong with you?” Paddy asked in amusement as he shook his head, smiling.

“Okay… one of my biggest crushes is Billy from Scream, okay? Just something about fucking with their victims before killing them, it’s kinda hot. I know that’s like so fucked up, but I can’t help it! Ever since I watched the movie at like 15, I was hooked, and it never went away…” I admitted.

“That’s so fucked up, Yn. He killed people…tsk tsk.” He said, shaking his head but still smiling.

“I know! I know, I can’t help it though.” I said blushing slightly.

“Hmmm… so you like serial killers then?” He teased. “I mean, I guess in theory.” I said.

“And in practice.” He said, tone suddenly changing to be much more serious.

On the surface I was confused but something deep down in me understood.

“Paddy… what do you mean?”

“I think you’ve already connected the dots… I told you, you wouldn’t be leaving… and I meant it. Your aunt and uncle won’t be either… I want you to be by my side when it happens… you can even help if you want to. Or, you can let me take care of it, let me free you from them… you said you were mine, didn’t you?” He asked, gently caressing my cheek.

I nodded immediately, “I’m yours Paddy. Please, free me.”

I pulled him back down to kiss me. He groaned into the kiss, gripping the back of my head to pull me closer. Then in one swift motion he flipped us so that I was straddling his waist. I could feel his hard cock, begging to be freed from his jeans underneath me. I grinded my hips down onto it and let out a soft moan as his bulge bumped up against my clit.

His hands went to my hips, slipping up under my sleep shirt. It raised up exposing the fact that I hadn’t worn any bottoms.

“No panties, sleeping on my couch? You trying to drive me crazy?” He asked.

“Hm… maybe.” I said, pulling away and reaching down to undo his belt.

I unzipped his pants and he helped me pull them down along with his underwear just enough to free his cock.

I lifted myself up on my knees and reached down to line him up with my entrance, but he stopped me.

“Wait, darling.” He said, reaching down into his pocket that had been shoved down. He pulled out a condom and used his teeth to open it before quickly putting it on.

“There we go, don’t want to risk anything, do we?” He said, grabbing my hips once again.

He guided me down onto his cock slowly. I let out a loud moan as he stretched me open slowly. Once he bottomed out I sat there for a moment to get reacquainted with the size of him.

“As much as I love the pretty sounds you make, love, I’m going to need you to keep it down. Okay? Don’t want the wife hearing you now, do we?” He asked.

I shook my head. Then he gave my hips a gentle squeeze before guiding me to move up and down on his cock. I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning. One of my hands stayed on his chest to steady myself, and the other went down to my clit.

My pace was matching his pace, slow circles just enough to drive me crazy as the pressure slowly began to build.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you, darling?” He said.

“Yeah,” I sighed out, subconsciously speeding up my pace on my clit. Paddy picked up his pace as well, sending me even faster to my climax.

“Fuck, darling… you look so good, so fucking good, on my cock like that.” He said, and I knew by the way his cock twitched inside of me he was getting close as well.

“Paddy, shit. I’m…” Before I could finish my sentence, my walls were clutching onto him as I came.

“Damn it, love…” Paddy groaned as he came as well.

Honestly, I was cursing that condom from preventing me from feeling him shoot his cum deep inside of me. But I knew it was for the better. We were already taking so many risks together we couldn’t afford to be that risky… not right now at least.

We both caught our breaths and after a moment I went to lift myself up, but Paddy stopped me.

“Not yet, just come here, darling.” He said pulling me down to lay on top of him.

I laid down gently, resting my head as best I could onto his chest.

“I fucking missed you, darling, and your perfect pussy… it truly was made for me, wasn’t it? All of you was made for me.” He said, rubbing his hand up and down my back.

“Only you, Paddy. I want to help kill them. All of them… I just have two conditions.” I said.

“What are they?”

“I get Anges and… I get to kill Ciara.” I said, turning my head to look at him.

“Who said anything about killing her?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I did. I said I am yours, if that’s true, then you don’t need her anymore. She needs to go too.” I said simply.

He smiled evilly, “I like your logic, dear… you have yourself a deal.”

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delafiseaseses · 1 month ago

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Dwarf Fortress Ethics

Every faction in Dwarf Fortress is a little alien. A little bizarre. This is easily demonstrated via each factions Ethics values. I won't be recounting the specifics of every ethic (go t' the DF Wiki's Ethics page for the whole table), but I wanna take a moment t' talk Dwarf Fortress Ethics.

The Dwarves are the closest to a Human-ethics and values system in DF. They find torture and cannibalism for any reason both abhorrent, they hate slavery and only approve of trophies made from non-sapient animals (however they find making trophies from non-Dwarves slightly less disgusting than from Dwarves, a mild discrimination unseen in any other faction). Dwarves do, however, have the death penalty and even when they don't put someone to death they can and do order 'hammer strikes' on guilty Dwarves.

Humans, by contrast have an ethics system with a few far more blatantly questionable morals. Including, infamously, believing that the killing of a person not of the faction is 'Justified if no repercussions'. They cannot stand cannibalism and find torture for any reason other than trying to gain 'information' disturbing. They think it's perfectly find to make a trophy from anything you kill, be it another Human, another sapient race or some animal. They find slavery acceptable. Humans engage in capital punishment practices much like the Dwarves. Humans also have a unique trait in which their abstract Cultural Values are varying from faction to faction, but they never have Extreme Views on any given topic (for instance one Human faction can 'greatly prize loyalty' while another in the same world can 'disdain loyalty', but neither can ever have 'the highest regard for loyalty' or be 'disgusted by the idea of loyalty').

Elves are often intentionally misunderstood for 'memes', but their morals are interesting. They believe torture is only good for setting an example and have no capital punishments. What they consider minor crimes get reprimands and extreme crimes lead to exile, unlike everyone else they find the act of lying such an extreme crime as to be worth exile (everyone else sees it as a personal matter). Killing animals is only justified in self-defense, making them vegans as of the Steam Release, and the killing of plants is totally unthinkable (which leads to the occasional war based on the 'treatment of plants'). Elves 'grow' their wooden objects using an unknown process. Now, to the big misunderstood thing, Elves find cannibalism unthinkable, they cannot stand cannibalism, they find cannibalism as bad as Dwarves and Humans do... except if the person has been killed in a battle. In that case it seems they feel obligated to eat the slain. The reason for this practice is unknown, but that's what they do.

Goblins... to describe the 'Evil'-type Civs as having an ethics is kinda silly. They see literally everything one might consider a crime as a personal matter, require the killing of other faction populations and animals, accept trophies from anything exactly like Humans, cannibalism is always fine for them, torture is fine even if you're just doing it for fun and on animals. It is quite common for those in Goblin-civs to kill other Goblin-faction people for no reason or to steal an artifact. The only crime in Goblin society is 'treason', which is a death sentence. Outside of ethics Goblin-civs create horrific displays with the people of conquered lands people. They also have the act of Child Snatching, in which a Goblin-civ person goes somewhere with a bag and kidnaps a child. The child is then raised Goblin, adopting Goblin ethics and Goblin values. This is seen as an innocuous job just like any other. Due to Goblin psychology discrimination in-faction cannot exist. They also often gain Troll populations, which they shear for clothes. The Trolls seem to be full-citizens as well as essentially sheep.

The Kobolds are the only people who have non-applicable factors in their ethics. Due to their lack of a formalised language, as they communicating via 'contextual' sounds whatever that means, they cannot torture for information, lie or oath break. They also cannot steal or trespass by their own metrics as they do not seem to have the concept of property. This lack of understanding is possibly what drives them to Thieve from other Civs. They find slavery, cannibalism for any reason and the making of trophies utterly unthinkable (they will, however, steal trophies made of anything). Assault is seen as a personal matter and killing people of other factions is required (however, Kobolds often run away from conflict regardless of this). Torture for fun is acceptable, but it presumably has to be inflicted on a person as the torture of animals is unthinkable (killing an animal is fine, though). Kobolds only really have one crime, which is the killing of another of the faction and the punishment is exile.

Each Civ has further nuance, of course, this is mostly an overview of their Ethics with a few additional facts sprinkled in. For further reference on the Ethics of Dwarf Fortress characters look at the DF Wiki's Ethics page.

#dwarf fortress #df

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david-talks-sw · 10 months ago

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The OTHER type of Star Wars fan

We've already covered (through this longer post and this addendum) that research shows George wasn't that involved or interested in the derivative material of the Star Wars franchise, also known as the Expanded Universe (EU). Aside from approving a few points, he let Howard Roffman and Lucasfilm Licensing handle it.

He is the first to say that he ain't as knowledgeable about Star Wars lore as we fans are.

Thing is... he's also not as passionate as we are.

Recently, I was watching some Q&A videos of George R.R. Martin, the author of Game of Thrones... and it occurred to me:

Martin is what most Star Wars fans wish Lucas was.

Think about it.

He's a talented writer who likes to focus on morally "gray" characters and complex political plotlines,

who created a series of novels for a mature audience in which his narrative merely asks questions and lets the reader draw their own conclusions,

knows and engages in the lore behind his creation and will often respond to those lore-heavy questions, and has gone on record stating that canon is the glue that holds a story together and keeps it coherent.

Contrast that with George "continuity is for wimps" Lucas, who:

Wrote a movie franchise which is also, partially, political... but he makes it for kids, and he's explicit about how this is thematically a clear-cut story about how the conflict of "good vs evil" is really about "compassion vs greed",

with flat dialogue, boring cinematography,

and whose approach to lore and canon can be summed up in his answer to how Anakin got his scar:

"I don't know. Ask Howard [Roffman]. That’s one of those things that happens in the novels between the movies. I just put it there. He has to explain how it got there. I think Anakin got it slipping in the bathtub, but of course, he's not going to tell anybody that." - Pablo Hidalgo’s set diary, August 2003

And as a Star Wars fan, I will admit that some of his casual retcons felt disrespectful, growing up.

"Boba Fett is NOT Mandalorian?!"

I had the same reaction when I saw an interview of Kathleen Kennedy stating she was a fan of Star Wars... from a filmmaking perspective. That seemed like such a finagling cop-out for me, at the time.

"Just say you're not a real fan, God!"

And it's easy to divide it in two camps, like that. You have 1) the real fans, who will delve into deep lore, and 2) the average moviegoer, also known as the "filthy casuals."

But looking back on it... holy shit, that is actually a completely valid way of being a Star Wars fan.

Yes, Star Wars is a transmedia franchise, it's books, it's video-games, it's deep lore, it's lightsabers and Jedi and Sith and bounty hunters and Ewoks and Jabba and High Republics and Tython and Revan etc.

But before it was that, Star Wars was a filmmaking revolution. A juggernaut of innovation for the silver screen that inspired most of today's filmmakers.

So, sure, George Lucas isn't an avid lore-loving Star Wars fan like you and me. But he is a movie fan.

"I'm not that passionate about this story. I like it, it's fun and I enjoy doing it. But it's definitely not my life. I'm a bigger movie fan than I am Star Wars fan. I like making movies. At the end of nine years of making Star Wars, I was not ready to continue it. I was completely burned out on it. I was more passionate about raising my kids than making movies and especially making Star Wars. So I made other kinds of movies and TV shows and advanced the technology I needed. It's not a matter of passion. My passion is for filmmaking. I'll go and do filmmaking that is easier to do, where you can realise your ideas better. And nine years is a big part of your life, and to commit to another nine years, I didn't wanna do that right away." - EMPIRE, 1999

And you can tell this, when you watch the Star Wars films.

There are honestly so many homages and interesting filmmaking techniques, peppered throughout the six films, which only a nerd for cinema history like George would know how to implement.

C3-PO being based on the droid from Metropolis (1927) is a perfect example of this.

And that's interesting.

Because there's essentially this entire other dimension to the films, where it's not just the story unfolding, but to filmmakers it's also a series of techniques that make them go "I wonder how they did that!" or homages that make them go "OH! I know where that's from!" like we do when an comics characters appears in live-action.

Here's other examples:

CINEMA HOMAGES

All of Star Wars is absolutely littered with homages to cinema history.

I mean, you may already know this, but Flash Gordon is what George originally wanted to shoot, but the copyright holders said they only wanted Fellini to direct it (ironically, George wasn't artsy-fart enough for them). So he decided to write Star Wars instead.

As such, the inspiration from Flash Gordon is also present visually and spiritually throughout the two trilogies.

"It was like a Republic serial, a 1930s-style matinee adventure. The idea was that you came in, saw Episode IV, had missed the first three episodes, and wouldn't get to see the rest of it." - Starlog Magazine #300, 2002

The dialogue that a lot of people refer to as "campy" and "flat" is actually a mix of George being an experimental filmmaker who doesn't give much of a fuck about dialogue (and is by his own admission, not the best at it)...

"I'd be the first person to say I can't write dialogue. My dialogue is very utilitarian and is designed to move things forward. I'm not Shakespeare. It's not designed to be poetic. It's not designed to have a clever turn of phrase. [...] I just wanted to get from point A to point B. This film doesn't lend itself to that sort of thing because it's not about snappy one-liners. I think that Lethal Weapon-style dialogue is overused, it's a necessary aspect of high action films where you have to have the smart retort. You have to say "I'll be back baby" and stuff. It's not my style. It takes away from the integrity of the movie. [...] I'm aware that dialogue isn't my strength. I use it as a device. I don't particularly like dialogue which is part of the problem." - EMPIRE, 1999

... which is convenient, because it helped him simulate the dialogue of 1930s matinee serials, such as Flash Gordon.

"Let’s face it, their dialogue in that scene is pretty corny. It is presented very honestly, it isn’t tongue in cheek at all, and it’s played to the hilt. But it is consistent, not only with the rest of the movie, but with the overall Star Wars style. Most people don’t understand the style of Star Wars. They don’t get that there is an underlying motif that is very much like a 1930s Western or Saturday matinee serial. It’s in the more romantic period of making movies and adventure films. And this film is even more of a melodrama than the others." - Mythmaking: Behind the Scenes of Attack of the Clones, 2002

But beyond that, literally it's everywhere.

The scene where Palpatine ascends to being Emperor as Anakin slaughters his political rivals parallels the final scene in The Godfather, where Michael becomes the Don while his goons do the same thing.

This video compiles all the tributes beautifully. Check it out.

youtube

Even The Clone Wars has whole episodes that are direct homages to cult classics. The Zillo Beast episode is a clear reference to Godzilla, the episode The Wrong Jedi is inspired by The Wrong Man, etc.

"CINEMA VÉRITÉ" CINEMATOGRAPHY

I've already written a whole post (one of my favourites) showing how his fascination with cinéma vérité documentaries is reflected in the cinematography of all six Star Wars films, and it's part of what makes the entire franchise feel so immersive.

You can check it out here:

KUROSAWA

We've gone over how he's a big fan of Akira Kurosawa, and how big an influence Hidden Fortress was on both the Star Wars trilogies...

... but so is the mise-en-scène and the way George approaches production design. The reason Star Wars feels so "lived in" is also a lesson George learned from Kurosawa, which is that by making everything just a bit off-kilter, a bit dirtied-up and imperfect...

... and yet keeping it all consistent, in a way, you manage to make the film feel grounded and immersive, no matter how alien it is.

"[It] may sound odd in a movie like this, but credibility and realism, even in the most unrealistic situation… to sorta create that sense of realism is very important to making the story work and making you feel like you’re actually in the environment that transports you and gives you the suspension of disbelief that you need in order to enjoy a movie. [...] Kurosawa used to call it “immaculate realism” which is to make it slightly off-kilter, slightly eccentric, like things are in real life. Even if it’s a very predictable situation, give it that little funny edge that takes it away from that and makes it realistic. And I had to struggle very hard, in the Star Wars films, to make them appear to be realistic, even though they’re totally fantasy." - The Phantom Menace, Commentary Track #2, 1999

POST-PRODUCTION & VFX

Another one of the more impressive aspects of the first Star Wars was the dogfights and the trench raid of the Death Star. The camera pans with the spaceship, the dynamism of the cuts. The space battles is what made George creat ILM in the first place.

He was determined to do the opposite of what 2001: A Space Odyssey had done with that opening scene where the space ship moves into frame slooooowly...

... so he gave the team a collection of WWII dogfight footage to give them ideas.

(note: this was the same approach he would take years later with Dave Filoni, when teaching the latter how to edit and craft dogfights in The Clone Wars)

The attempt to film the trench run eventually led to the creation of the first motion control camera dolly.

Best analogy I can think of, when describing George's approach to Star Wars, is the following:

An avant-garde esoteric contemporary artist - y'know, the type who puts a blue dot on a white canvas and calls it art - creates a comic.

Why? Because he wants to make this one art installment for a gallery exhibition. After that, he intends to move on to other things.

But the comic is really good! And like, its audience quickly expands beyond just gallery visitors, no, everyone likes it.

Suddenly, the comic develops a cult following, and the entirety of comic book geek culture has zeroed-in on the artist and they're all asking him to make more art! And he makes more! And more!

Then he stops for two decades, moves on to other art projects, raises his kids. Years later, he discovers new ways of drawing, and he's like "I'm making a Prequel to the comic, y'all wanna see it?"

Everyone cries out gleefully: "Oh God, yes! Finally! Show us!"

But this motherfucker makes a manga.

Why? Because he feels like it.

And of course he does, he's just creating art, right? He discovered the graphic tablet, so he's having fun with it, because he's always innovating and pushing the envelope with his art.

And the books are fine, by manga standards. But by comic book standards, they obviously suck! The comic book audience is mad. They wanted another comic book, not a manga. Why is it in black and white? Why is read right-to-left? This comic is crap!

(And arguably, they have a point... as a savvy businessman, he's made a whole lot of money off this comic, he built a media empire out of it, and instead of giving them what they want, he made something else)

But again... this guy isn't a comic book illustrator, and has been very explicit about saying this.

He's an artist who - for a very specific project - drew a comic.

Many things can be true at once:

the fact that these creative decisions didn't always hit their mark for the average moviegoer, or fans of "Star Wars, the space fantasy movies and expanded universe" (usually the lore-loving geeks like myself)...

... and the fact that they were meticulously and carefully crafted in a way that fans of "Star Wars, the revolutionary film" (aka fans of cinema and filmmaking) can appreciate.

There's a spectrum of the fandom, and there is a spectrum in the way we can appreciate Star Wars. Which kinda reminds me of that scene in Chef (2014) where Carl goes on a rant explaining the intricacies of making his chocolate lava cake to a food critic.

It's not just undercooked chocolate. It's molten.

Conversely:

It's not just flat, campy dialogue. It's an homage to the 1930s matinee serials à la Flash Gordon.

It's not just boring cinematography. It's a reproduction of cinéma vérité documentary-style camera work which effectively grounds the film.

Having considered all this, when I hear that Tony Gilroy or Kathleen Kennedy were more fans of Star Wars from a "cinema studies" side rather than the typical pop culture one, I think it's fair enough.

First of all, because like it or not, so was George. He clearly didn't give a single crap about the offshoot comics and books and their lore, besides signing off on minor plot points. He's not a "sci-fi movie director", he's an experimental filmmaker who set some of his movies in space.

But secondly, because - aside from children - it's clear the audience he was targeting was not the fans or the critics... but these very same cinema-savvy people, who get his references and homages, and who were inspired by the new filmmaking techniques he introduced.

#george lucas #star wars #long post #meta #cinema #kurosawa

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munchkin1156 · 1 month ago

Text

Let me show you things from a different angle! Hang on, that’s not what I meant-

. . .

A new fic!! Hooray!! This one is also for the @mcyt-soulmate-sweepstakes event!! Under the extra prompt “Trust”!!

ao3 link

Summary:

Scar was someone you could trust. Definitely, totally, absolutely. The Permit Office had no reason to be suspicious of him!

...Well, ignoring how he didn't have a permit for his magic and potions. But besides that, nothing!

Grian just wanted to get the inspection of this guy's house and permits over with. It was getting annoying how he kept lying, and even worse how smug he seemed about it, thinking he’d gotten away with it. Ugh.

At least nothing had gone horribly wrong yet.

word count: 5,557

. . .

Scar was your totally average, day to day salesman.

He lived in a small apartment, on the west side of the city, overlooking the central park. He did chores, met up with his friends, and made sales that definitely had reasonable prices. In every way you could possibly imagine, he was a perfectly compliant citizen. Perfectly trustworthy. No reason whatsoever for the government to have any sort of suspicion about him.

Nothing at all.

…Apart from the illegal magic use, that is.

According to his files, Scar sold boring, useful, everyday things like, for example, vacuum cleaners. Very uninteresting stuff. That was a lie. He didn’t even own a vacuum cleaner! Originally, when he was younger, he’d wanted to be a known wizard, a famous one, but those were the foolish hopes of a child. Child him hadn’t known how ridiculously impossible it was to get a permit for magic use. He was still waiting to hear back from the Permit Office about getting an appointment to discuss the possibility of him using magic, and that was nearing three years now. He had a sneaking suspicion they’d forgotten he’d sent in an application.

Since Scar wasn’t the type of person to give up on his dreams, he’d just… Not told the Permit Office he was using it. He had found a market online, for people just like him, with the same idea. Not evil people, who wanted to practice black magic, but people who simply couldn’t, because the system sucked. And with his natural talent for arcane arts, Scar had gotten quite popular, especially with his potions. Who wouldn’t love something that was slightly cheaper, and yet worked far better than anything store bought?

Because his apartment had been basically turned into a magic lab it was hard to hide an entire room set aside for the business, with magical ingredients and chalk marks left over from spells everywhere, his friends had caught on fairly quickly to what he was doing. They had then made it their mission to help Scar with this side gig, as well as cover things up from the authorities. Absolute legends, they were. Total life savers. Scar couldn’t count how many times they’d saved him after he’d said one too many suspicious things to an officer of the Poe Poe.

It was with their help the Permit Office hadn’t needed to investigate where he lived, because he had no idea where he would hide all his highly illegal stuff. Anyway, he knew he’d get some warning before it happened, if it did ever happen, because the Permit Office loved to send warning notices ahead of time, which was very helpful if you needed to get rid of something they wouldn’t approve of.

But what Scar had forgotten, was that the Permit Office didn’t always do that. They were forgetful over there, workers slacking off all the time, and he’d even heard rumours that they burnt complaints so that they wouldn’t have to do the paperwork for it. Before he’d started up his magic industry, Scar had been in a similar type job, though not for the government, and he understood why they’d do it, even if he didn’t approve. Hey, maybe that’s what happened to his initial request…

Anyway, that was why, when his doorbell rang that morning, and Scar had opened it to find someone in complete Permit Office uniform, standing outside his door expectantly, he had been incredibly surprised, since he hadn’t received any information about this. He was also incredibly relieved when he realised he hadn’t been making any potions at that moment, because it would have been very clear to the Permit Worker in front of him. He was wearing a teal shirt, with a black tie and beige pants. His hair was short, and the colour reminded Scar of sand on a beach, or desert. The nametag pinned to his shirt read “Hello, my name is ___”, with the word Grain scrawled in the empty space.

“Good morning, officer Grain! How can I be of assistance?” Scar asked cheerfully, leaning in the doorframe, effectively blocking the Permit Workers view of his home. The man scowled in response, black eyes narrowing as he glared bitterly at Scar. “My name,” he began, looking offended at the mere prospect of someone getting it wrong, “Is Grian. And I’m a Permit Manager, not an officer.”

Oops. That was his dyslexia's fault. Still, not exactly super polite, in Scar’s opinion. He could’ve been a bit nicer about it. Scar felt a hint of sarcasm make its way into his words as he answered the manager known as Grian. “My sincerest apologies, manager Grian. How can I be of assistance?” Grian raised an eyebrow, as if it was obvious what he was here for, and Scar was the rude one. “You are Scar Goodtimes, yes?”

Scar nodded, tilting his head a little to one side. “That’s me.” He agreed. “What about it?” Grian made a notation on his checklist, before responding. “Then you should be informed of the observation I have to make of your house and permits today.” He hummed, smiling a little. “Shall we begin?”

His heart dropped. Scar’s own smile faltered for a fraction of a second, though he regained his bearings almost immediately. “W-why yes of course, Grian! Just give me a moment, it’s really quite a mess in here… I didn’t actually get any sort of warning about this you see…” And hurriedly shut the door in the manager's face. He shakily sat down on the other side, taking a deep breath in, and out. He could do this. He hadn’t been expecting this, sure, hadn’t known about it, but that was fine.

After all, if he knew anything from the times his friends had been surveyed about their homes and jobs, the person being sent didn’t actually know what their job was. Also, they had very strict work hours, so if Scar managed to use up all of Grian’s time without needing to show him the non-existent permit, he could get away scott free.

Yep. This was possible. Grinning from ear to ear, Scar spoke in his most convincing, salesman type voice as he opened the door again, staring right back at the suspicious manager. “Why don’t you come in?” He offered, eyes sparkling. Grian grumbled a ‘let’s get this over with’ and stepped inside.

Scar was ready for anything the permit office could throw at him. As the door clicked shut, he felt confident he had the upper hand here. It was his own home. His own ground. He was totally ready. The manager would be none the wiser, because he was one hundred percent trustworthy.

. . .

Grian wasn’t sure what Scar’s deal was, but whatever it was, he didn’t trust it in the slightest.

First of all, he seemed to have no idea about the inspection that was schedueled today despite the weeks notice. That was already very strange. The Permit Office (almost) always made sure people were well notified ahead of time. He must have just not been paying attention. Secondly, he kept switching between being charismatic and nervous. He was probably hiding his terror, deep down. And thirdly, he’d gotten Grian’s name and job title wrong! He had to have done it in order to annoy Grian. He must dislike the Permit Office. Therefore, there had to be something off about one of his permits. Maybe he didn’t even have one.

That was an appalling prospect. Imagine not having a permit. Grian had no idea what the world would look like where people didn’t use permits for everything and didn’t follow the rules. It would definitely lead to total destruction and anarchy. No doubt about it.

If only he had access to his documents. Then he’d at least know if this so-called “wizard” was telling the truth. Now, Grian was just in for an hour of awkward chatter as Scar led him around his apartment, showing him all his magic supplies. At least he got to make notes about how things looked. The safety measures, and what rules he crossed.

The apartment in itself wasn’t too shabby. Rather spacious for one person, enough to have both a general living space as well as a separate room for his work. After a general tour, Scar sat him down in an armchair while he went to make some drinks. It was rather strange how hospitable he was being. Most people would just show their home and their permits and be done with it, not needing the full hour unless they had some sort of mansion. You’d think the man was stretching time out. Almost like Scar enjoyed talking to him.

Grian nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity of the thought. Wanting to talk to him? That certainly couldn’t be it. So then, why couldn’t he just show him his permits? Unless he had a reason to hide them, something he’d get in trouble for…

Hmmm…

Oh. Ohhh. That made much more sense. Scar must have a permit in his possession that he wasn’t using! Well, that just wouldn’t do. Once he returned, he’d immediately get down to business. And it wouldn’t be too bad if Scar immediately confessed. He’d only have to pay a small fine. No, it was if he lied about not having a permit. Then he’d be in serious trouble. For his sake, Grian hoped he wouldn’t try and be clever about things, though he knew he probably would.

Adjusting his position, Grian added his suspicions to the checklist. Everything of importance had to be written down. It was the only way things would get done. Not that he particularly cared if things got done or not, as long as they weren’t his problem.

With annoyance, Grian’s eyes landed on the shelves and shelves of potions that were literally everywhere. Hardly any of them were labelled, and none of the shelves looked properly nailed to the wall. Honestly, it felt like something would tip over any second. Ugh. Potion stains were horrible to get out, and potion effects were even harder. Grian almost pitied Scar in advance for when those fell, but he reminded himself that he was probably lying to the Permit Office, which was unacceptable behaviour.

Scar, from Grian’s observations, seemed to be a reasonably pleasant chap, at least to look at, besides his problems with the government. Green eyes, brown hair, a sane sense for fashion. Really, the only off-putting thing about him (personality not included) were the scars that covered his arms and face. A fitting name for the man, he supposed, if a bit of a cruel joke.

In a few minutes, Scar returned, bringing two cups of tea with him. He set them both down on the small coffee table in front of Grian, before sitting down in the armchair opposite him. Clasping his hands together, he smiled warmly at Grian. Grian scoffed internally. Who did this man think he was, to try and get away from using a Permit he requested without consequences? He cleared his throat. “So, Mister Goodtimes-“ he started, trying to hurry this up, but was rudely interrupted.

“Oh, you can just call me Scar!” Scar told him pleasantly, much to Grian’s annoyance. He rolled his eyes and continued. “Alright, Scar, could you please bring me your permits for inspection?”

Grian watched with an odd sense of satisfaction when Scar’s face paled, and his chatter faltered. He noticed how quickly he regained his confidence, even though it was probably false confidence, same as earlier, when Grian had initially arrived. What an interesting individual, who had just opened his mouth, presumably to speak lies.

“Right, of course! Just- erm, give me a moment while I search for them?” Scar spoke with a nervous tick, a tug at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t usually keep them out on display, so they could be anywhere…”

What an original excuse, the ‘I can’t find them’. Grian had had that trick pulled on him many a time. He figured he’d play along with him a little, give him some false hope. If this took up enough of his time, he wouldn’t have to do the paperwork he knew was waiting for him once he returned to the office. The best way to procrastinate was having a reason for it, after all.

Smoothly, he responded. “But of course, Scar. We have all the time in the world.” He smiled, but it wasn’t his genuine smile. It was the one he used specifically to make people uncomfortable. Look, being a Permit Worker was boring, okay? He had to find some way to entertain himself while doing his job. Scar nodded, turning his back on him quickly as he stood up yet again, going into a different room. Grian could hear the sound of a chest being opened, and someone rummaging through it. All for show, of course, but he noted that it was a better show than most.

Grian sipped his tea as he waited. Scar’s voice was heard from the other room every now and again, apologising for the inconvenience and offering to get Grian something from his kitchen, which he politely declined. Eventually, after checking his watch, he decided he’d had enough.

Time to get this over with.

“You know, I don’t actually have all day,” he called, and heard a loud thud followed by a muttered curse, as Scar presumably hit his head on something, probably having tried to turn in Grian’s direction. “If you could perchance come back to the living room?” A few grumbles, and Scar emerged again, looking sheepish. “Why of course, of course! What would you like to discuss?” He asked, sinking gratefully back into his seat.

He cleared his throat. “Well, you see, Scar, and I might be wrong here,” Grian carefully got up, walking over to stand on the far side of the room, where the higher up potions stood, on higher up shelves. “I think that you may be lying to the Permit Office about owning a permit.” Seeing Scar stiffen only confirmed his suspicions. He was certain about what this man had done wrong.

Taking a glance at the time on his watch, he determined he probably had more than enough time to get his point across. “Now, the Permit Office isn’t generally fond of these types of things. And, rule breakers generally ought to be punished, ey?” Grian watched as Scar fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt, the anxiety pooling in his light green eyes. Unlike Grian’s, with eyes the colour of black ink, where emotion could hide.

“So, I feel the best way to go about this is if you, without fuss, hand over your unused permit, pay a small fine, and we can all be on our way. Sounds good?” His emotions could be a bit on the impatient side, and he found that he had in fact lost most of the patience he had.

Scar started nodding, to Grian’s relief, before a frown appeared on his face. “Wait, but I don’t have an unused permi-“

“Quiet!” Grian hissed, slamming his hand against the wall as a way to get Scar to stop talking, stop lying. He didn’t have time to deal with it. He also didn’t have time to notice how a potion shelf, the one above him and just a little to the left to be exact (and he liked to be) tilted in his direction when he did this. If he had, this might not have happened. Scar wasn’t paying attention to it either, feeling generally hurt that Grian had gotten it wrong, too annoyed to see how he could’ve gotten out of the situation with ease. “Look, don’t bother lying. It’s rather obvious that you’re purposefully stretching out time to avoid showing me your permits.”

“Well… Yes, but-“

“And the evidence is clear that, besides your rather successful magic industry, you have an extra permit that you’d been planning on setting up, but never had time to use.” The sound of glass sliding against wood was a sound too quiet for either person to pick up, as a potion slowly slipped towards the edge. Grian was staring Scar down, unblinking, as he glared defiantly back. If he was going to fail for honour, he was going to fail for the right honour, gosh darn it!

“Well, kind of, but you see- “

“And therefore, it would be better for all of us if you just hand over your permit, so it can go back in the system, and you’ll get only a slap on the wrist. Sounds fair?” Grian tilted his head, not understanding why Scar was so against this. It wasn’t like he was even going to get in a lot of trouble for this. What on earth could possibly be the matter, he couldn’t tell, which was annoying, since he’d spent a lot of time learning to read people and their intentions, which had saved him from a lot of problems in the long run.

“Would you just listen!?” Scar exclaimed, standing up in such a rush that his feet hit the floor with a very loud thud. And then three things happened in very fast succession, and it’s very important we know all of them slowly, otherwise things would be incredibly confusing.

First, Grian backed against the wall, hitting it, and held his arms up, looking like he was about to say something about not being allowed to threaten or interrupt workers of the Permit Office whilst doing their job. There was probably a form about it somewhere, which Grian probably knew by heart.

Second, the potion closest to the edge, the one that had started to slide, fell. Scar noticed it then, but not Grian. He made a move towards him, in panic, like he wanted to push Grian out of the way. He didn’t know what exactly the potion was off the top of his head, but it might’ve been something dangerous. And anyway, glass smashing against your head still hurts like hell. But he was too late.

Third, the potion hit Grian, and there was a loud crash followed by a bang and a flash. Scar threw his hands over his ears at the noise, and squeezed his eyes shut. Usually, if a potion fell while he was working on one, he had earplugs in, so the sound was never so bad. He also always had potion proof clothing, which the Permit Office did not, except on special occasions.

After a few moments, Scar looked up, praying that he hadn’t injured, or worse, killed, someone. A Permit Office Manager no less. They’d have his head if they caught wind of that. But he didn’t look dead. In fact, he didn’t look like anything at all, since Scar couldn’t actually see Grian, and for a split second hoped that maybe it had been an invisibility potion, and that was it. Yet no curses came from what seemed to be empty air, no complaints or angry remarks. He looked down at the mess below, the shattered glass and the colourful liquid that was staining the carpet, and his eyes landed on something small.

Oh.

So it was that kind of potion.

Shoot.

. . .

Grian woke up with a horrible throbbing pain in the side of his head. It was not a great way to wake up, and he was missing a pillow and his bed felt strange. Muttering something incomprehensible, he tried turning over to get into a more comfortable position. Why it felt so much like everyday cloth instead of bedsheets, he couldn’t say.

As he lay there, calmly waiting for his alarm to go off as it always did, and relishing in the feeling of extra sleep, his brain slowly recapped what had happened yesterday. A boring day at the office to begin with, then he’d been assigned to go to some guy, Scar Goodtimes, and review his house and permits.

Then what?

His memory was blurry, of the end of the visit, and he could not for the life of him remember what he did next. Frowning in his sleep, or in his half-asleep state, it didn’t matter which it was, Grian slowly turned over each and every encounter he’d had for breakfast that morning, to how he’d walked to the apartment, not knowing it was a good hours walk, despite what his phone had said, to shouting at Scar about his permits (which was allowed under special circumstances, check form MOTL6511 in the Permit Office rule book), to… to… something hitting his head. And he remembered a strange feeling, and a loud noise, and a bright light. Like a potion effect.

With a sudden sense of foreboding, Grian opened his eyes, sitting bolt upright on whatever he was lying on. His surroundings hit him like a train. He knew immediately that he’d been right about a potion, and he knew exactly what potion had fell on him.

He was lying, on a piece of cloth, on a desk, in a room that was a million times too large for him. From what he could see, the room was Scar’s office, which meant the man hadn’t had the intelligence to bring him to a hospital to get him treated for this. He probably didn’t want to get in trouble. Grian could understand that, but he didn’t have to like it. Hopefully he could bargain with Scar once he turned up.

It was honestly overwhelming, being this small. Everything looked so much more dangerous, and he felt so out of place. He’d managed to mistake a piece of cloth for his bed, albeit with some suspicions. Standing up shakily, he put a hand to his head, feeling bandages. He vaguely noted how textures also felt different to him, yet he could still tell what it was. On a scientific level, that was interesting, since his senses had adjusted to his size somehow, and at the moment, he could only think on scientific levels, because if he thought on personal levels relevant to him, Grian was afraid he’d start screaming.

Footsteps could be heard in the distance, loud for Grian, and far away for him too. He could also hear them coming closer by the second, accompanied by Scar’s voice, who seemed to be singing, but what exactly it was he was singing, Grian couldn’t say. Luckily, that gave him plenty of warning. Enough warning to, in a moment of panic, bolt to the nearest hiding place. In this case, that was behind a plant pot. Grian ducked out of sight just in time, as he heard the creak of the door opening ever so clearly.

“-She seems to have an invisible tou-ch! She takes- Wait, um…” The footsteps paused, and Scar’s voice faltered. “Where on earth…” He heard Scar mutter to himself. “Grian? Are you here?” He called, and Grian, though he didn’t look, could feel Scar’s presence at the desk. Even if he couldn’t, he’d have known he was there.

Grian winced. The volume was way too loud for his now incredibly sensitive ears. He curled up on himself, praying Scar wouldn’t find him, or that he’d at least shut up. Scar did not find him, not immediately anyway, and Grian was getting the feeling that he wasn’t very observant. But he didn’t shut up, instead choosing to pace about the room, talking half to Grian and half to himself, since he didn’t seem entirely certain if Grian was actually there or not.

“You aren’t actually gone, right? There’s no way you could’ve disappeared from there in such little time… unless… but that’s probably not the case…” He spoke in a slightly mumbled tone, but the worry Grian could hear in it was surprising. Maybe since he was injured. He almost felt bad, but the terror and his initial reaction of annoyance to the man back when he was his normal height stopped him from feeling guilty enough to let himself be seen.

Scar sighed. “I guess you must be freaking out right now. I mean, I would too, if I was in your situation. But I really do need to talk to you.” Grian raised an eyebrow, though he knew it was pointless and that it didn’t matter, since literally no one could see him. It was for the principle, or something. He kept listening.

“Look, uh, see, the problem at hand, is that I’m not sure about turning you back to normal.”

That certainly got Grian’s attention. An “excuse me!?” Escaped his mouth before he could stop it, the sheer horror and offence that that sentence had dealt him resulted in himself accidentally giving away his hiding place. Grian curled up on himself, stiff and suddenly as quiet as a mouse. He heard Scar turn his direction, slowly making his way closer and closer to him, like he was afraid Grian would bolt at any sign of sudden movement. To be fair, Grian wasn’t sure he wouldn’t.

Scar’s voice rang out from above again. He sputtered indignantly. “W-well, not exactly! More like a- a- well, um, why don’t you come out so we can discuss it?” When he received no response from Grian, he added hopefully: “I’ll stay on the other side of the room?”

With reluctance, Grian nodded. Then he remembered Scar couldn’t see him, and grumbled (for he wasn’t sure if he spoke in his normal voice it wouldn’t falter) yes. Once he was positive that Grian was in fact on the other side of the room from Scar, not within reachable distance of Scar’s hands, and definitely not within killable distance of Scar’s anything, Grian got up shakily. He hesitantly stepped out into the open, his heart racing, hands clammy, feeling ever so slightly sick to his stomach.

It was even more terrifying now that he could actually view just how big Scar was compared to him. He’d made some rough calculation when he’d first woken up, which was why he’d avoided Scar to begin with, but now, looking up at him, Grian could see that no calculation would ever have prepared him for this. A dizziness overtook him for a moment, and Grian swayed, just a little bit, where he stood. Scar, standing too far away to see him properly, didn’t notice. If Scar standing so far away already gave him this sort of feeling, Grian couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel when he came across his coworkers in this state, or his friends. He also didn’t trust that Scar wouldn’t just walk over here, not caring if Grian had or hadn’t given his consent.

He had every right not to trust the man.

To the untrained eye, one would say he looked at ease with the situation, like he’d experienced similar ones on the job before. A trained eye would point out how he wasn’t looking directly at Scar, how his nails were digging into the palms of his hands, and he stood like he was made of stone. The only eyes upon him though, were the ones of Scar, and they, again, couldn’t tell. Taking a deep breath in, Grian started talking with relative calmness, a sharp difference compared to how he actually felt. Years of practicing his voice, since a lot of the time he spent talking over speaker when speaking to people who wanted an argument with the Permit Office. Those people were always Dealt With.

“Mister Scar Goodtimes, are you aware of the problems you have brought upon yourself?” He asked. Grian always tried to bring himself to a sense of authority, it was a habit he had a hard time breaking. Even in a situation like this, he still searched for any bit of leverage he could use to hold over the person he was speaking to. Scar responded with hesitance. “I think so, yes. That would be accidentally harming a Permit Manager and accidentally using a potion effect against them?”

Grian was about to agree, but remembered to add the rest. “And also lying about your permits to the Permit Office.” Scar nodded, looking a little guilty as he did so. “Erm, yes. About what my job is.” Frowning, Grian looked right up at the towering figure, immediately regretting it as he was washed over with another wave of nausea. He found he was also unable to look away. “No, it- it was about an unused permit, wasn’t-“

A thought struck him. You could see the realisation sneakily creep its way onto Grian’s face as he stared up in complete shock and, if he was being with himself, also with some form of respect for what had to be an absolute madman. “You… you’re not telling me…” He began, trying to doubt what he had just deduced. The madman in question averted his eyes, looking horribly embarrassed.

“I converted my whole apartment, I run a successful business, and I don’t even have the permit for it.” Scar confirmed.

Wow.

Grian nearly facepalmed at the sheer stupidity of that. But he didn’t, because his fear overtook his want to scoff at idiocy in its finest form, which was apparently this man. “Right, so that adds gaslighting to the table”, he muttered, and much to his surprise, because he’d been completely genuine about that, Scar laughed. “Right, right, obviously.” And then his face turned serious, and Grian felt a horrible sense of nervousness and dread. “See, I don’t actually want these charges to be put on me…”

Scar kept talking, saying things like “just until I know it’s safe”, “I’m truly really sorry about this but”, and “I promise this situation won’t be bad for you”. He sounded rather horrified at the words coming out of his mouth, and on some level, Grian understood. Scar had just been doing, and was doing, what he needed to to survive. During his time at the Permit Office, there had been plenty of moments as he sent people off to goodness knows where, questioning his own morals and sanity as he did so. But the answer had sadly always been obvious. His life or theirs, in some shape or form.

It was also the moment that, deep down, Grian realised he was going to be like this for some time. That he wasn’t going to see his friends or family for a while. It didn’t actually register, because his brain didn’t want it to register, until much, much, later.

. . .

Scar thought that conversation had gone rather well. Sure, the contents of the conversation weren’t pleasant, but at least Grian hadn’t started screaming, or tried to jump off the table, or threaten him or something.

Look, he’d had a lot of worries about what could’ve gone wrong, okay? But instead, the Permit Manager Grian had been very complacent. Almost too complacent. It was kind of unnerving. It might’ve been a Permit Office thing, but he had a suspicion it was how the poor guy dealt with it.

It was technically keeping someone else imprisoned. He’d basically kidnapped someone. That was not a fun thought to think, but Scar was doing it for himself. He’d heard horror stories about people getting into trouble with the Permit Office, never to return. Or worse, return with a personality that wasn’t theirs. Scar didn’t want that happening to him, obviously.

Even if that meant hiding a tiny Permit Worker for long enough to convince him not to report him to the authorities. It sounded like it could work in theory? Probably? But Scar didn’t have time to test it, he’d been thrown straight into field work.

Grian had been left alone on the desk. Scar had promised to come back with food, but he wasn’t sure Grian would let him anywhere near him. Understandable, yes, because he had every right not to trust him, but they were going to have to make an agreement about it sometime soon. After all, they were living together now

Speaking of which, what did Grian eat? Did he have allergies? Medical issues? Scar was ashamed he hadn’t thought about it sooner, he had this problem all the time when he went to visit people. They never asked, and then never had the potions he used to be able to stand without pain. Then he’d either need a cane or a chair, or he’d have to dig into his emergency supply. Scar made a mental note to ask Grian the next time he saw him. Hopefully that would also prove that he cared. Hopefully.

Cutting up carrots, because you could never go wrong there, Scar pondered how tiny portions would look. He’d seen some videos with them online, but those were more for look and style than taste and texture. And he wasn’t even a professional chef. Sure, he could bake real well, and sometimes sold pastries at the market (which didn’t need a permit, all of the stalls fell under the market permit which belonged to the person hosting the market, just to be completely clear) but he wasn’t sure he could bake that delicately. He’d have to follow some tutorials, probably.

Either way, Scar was determined to make this situation the best it could be, despite the circumstances. He’d get Grian to trust him. And he’d start small.

With carrots.

. . .

taglist: @i-am-beckyu, @da3dm, @faeiyn-cant-write, @boiled-ginger-ale, @local-squshmallow, @akatthatwants2sleep, @vocal-nyx-cords (if you want to be tagged, lmk for what!)

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 24 days ago

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Correct me if I'm wrong, but the whole contract between Gabriel and Tomoe that demands that Adrien and Kagami be together wasn't established earlier or it was only established in S5? Because that'd explain why Gabriel and Tomoe are obsessed about Adrigami while Tom and Sabine don't bat an eye to Lukanette.

(Post that spawned this ask)

We're never actually told why Tomoe and Gabriel are obsessed with Adrigami. The best we get are the following two bits of dialogue from Protection:

Dialogue 1

Kagami: Looks like your doubts are finally gone. Adrien: Yes, Kagami. I'm ready. Tomoe: (to Gabriel) Made for each other. Just as planned. Gabriel: Perfection calls for perfection. Kagami: (to Adrien) What are you doing? Adrien: (typing on his phone) I'm going to prepare a special picnic, for just the two of us, no friends around, no outside pressure. And I'm inviting Marinette right now. Hopefully she can be herself, (Tomoe and Gabriel gasp in shock in the unexpected turn of events.) and finally open her heart and soul to me, free of her fears.

Dialogue 2

Tomoe: All of our plans are falling apart! You were supposed to control your son, Gabriel! Gabriel: And you, your daughter! Tomoe: My daughter's so perfect she doesn't need me to control her! (points her bokken at Gabriel) Gabriel: (pushes away Tomoe's bokken with his finger) Well, it appears she does. Tomoe: It's not my child who's falling for someone completely wrong for her! Gabriel: But she seems to be the one encouraging him!

As you can see, these don't mention a contract. They just imply that Gabriel and Tomoe want Adrigami to be a thing because... reasons?

The contract thing you're referring to comes from the season three episode Animaestro which briefly showed Gabriel and Tomoe signing a contract:

[Image description: a contract with Gabriel's signature and Tomoe's stamp of approval]

As of season six, we still don't know what exactly this contract was about. We just know that it exists and even that is only true if you remember this brief moment from Animaestro. It's totally fair if you forgot about this five-second scene because I don't think that the contract was ever discussed in a later episode. (Please correct me if I'm wrong about that!)

The writers have claimed that this contract scene was here to hint at Gabriel and Tomoe having some sort of master plan, but that's incredibly lackluster writing. A scene of two business people signing a contract is not foreshadowing mutual villainy because signing a contract is not weird behavior. It obviously is here to mean something since the writers chose to include it, but nothing about this scene screams "villainy!" At least, it doesn't on Tomoe's side. Gabriel's a known villain so anything he does may be villainous.

Business contracts happen all the time, this contract was signed in an incredibly public setting, and we later see Gabriel using Tsurugi tech in his house, a thing that's introduced long before Tomoe is revealed to be evil! Because of Animaestro's spot in the timeline and because the contract is signed so publicly, it's perfectly logical to see this brief contract moment and read it as the writers setting up Gabriel having the Tsurugi robots in later episodes. You could also see this and assume it's setting up for Tomoe to be akumatized later the way Audrey Bourgeois was purposely set up for all of her akumatizations.

This contract being about the mansion's robots thing is still the only solution that makes any sense because - as far as we know - the only evil collaborations between Gabriel and Tomoe were the sentikids and the alliance rings. The sentikids obviously happened pre-canon so the contract can't be about that and the alliance plan only existed after Gabriel got the miraculous so the contract clearly wasn't related to that either. It also probably wasn't related to Gabriel and Tomoe being the world's most obsessive Adrigami shippers. The contract was never mentioned during that arc, the arranged-marriage plot didn't show up until season five (two season post contract), and there are some subtle implications that Adrigami may have always been the plan in which case any related contracts would have been signed when these two were kids unless the arranged marriage is a new thing in which case why was this suddenly a thing? What benefit did it give Tomoe? She's already rich and Gabriel was a fashion designer! That's not very useful to a tech guru nor is it an elite skill set she couldn't find without selling out her daughter.

If this contract was supposed to be related to the Adrigagmi stuff, then the writers needed to start the arranged marriage plot in season three or four so that a viewer could logically tie the two events together because there was no reason for Tomoe and Gabriel to delay on the arranged marriage plot once the contract was signed.

That's not what the writers did, though. Gabriel and Tomoe had nothing to do with Adrigami getting together in season three and season four wrote Adrigami like some sort of secret relationship. Lies has Kagami straight up state that she had to lie to be with Adrien which makes no sense if Gabriel and Tomoe wanted this relationship to happen:

Kagami: You know, I lied too. I lied to my mother so that we could see each other. I even lied to her when I said you came here with me tonight. I lied at every fencing lesson so we could spend more time together. You see, we're both a couple of liars. Except I lie because I want to be with you. (points at him accusingly) You lie… because you don't want to be with me.

I was genuinely shocked when season five revealed that Tomoe and Gabriel knew about Adrigami. I thought they were either totally oblivious or actively against it because they clearly did nothing to support it. They didn't even know that their kids broke up!

In other words - like many things in this show - the arranged marriage plot was either a last minute addition or terribly written.

#anon ask #ml writing critical #ml writing salt

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egg-emperor · 3 months ago

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Eggman is a CARTOON. He doesn't exist in reality. Anyone who is actually sexually attracted to cartoon is pathetic , cringe and needs serious mental health services. Kinks deserve to be shamed.

I like sonic for the gameplay and lore, I'm not pathetic enough to be sexually attracted to cartoons. People like you are the reason why I hate the fandom,always thirsting over ink and polygons, the furries , and the weirdoes making cringe ships. Like how pathetic do you have to be to be legitimately sexually attracted to a cartoon, especially some of which aren't even human (and are underage) ?

The closest real life equivalent to Eggman would be the dictator of north korea cross-bred with Elon Musk. Would you really be willing to date/fuck such a manchild?

this is a funny troll or experiment or whatever that you've been trying lol. I can tell it there isn't genuine serious feeling in it but it's just entertaining when you're this secure and comfortable with yourself. plus I get to say something funny and possibly inspire others not to care if they get asks like this- and I can just stop answering when I get bored :P

one of the things that makes me so comfortable and secure in myself is because I'm in touch with reality. I'm aware of what's real and what's not and what matters and doesn't. funnily enough, some of what you're saying would mean you can't, if you were being serious but I'm certain you're not. being in touch with reality is why I have the self awareness and self acceptance I have

I don't care about being the reason someone hates the fandom, I'm also a reason some like it and that's what I focus on. I also don't care about being shamed for weirdo shit like shipping and kink. unless I'm causing genuine harm it doesn't matter :P I'd rather be hated and happy than liked and miserable. I don't need people's approval and permission to follow my passions and be happy

Eggman is a problematic evil fucked up manchild but I find that entertaining and he's extremely sexy because he's a fictional character that causes no real life harm and he's very handsome and suits my type in real life appearance wise and certain more positive aspects of his personality, as well as things I enjoy and endorse only in fiction and fantasies. the only things in common he has with real people I'm attracted to is that he's an old man and passionate and charming lol

fiction is fun and allows you to explore things that make you feel many ways and explore subjects you never could or should in real life and explore the minds of characters different to you. it's great to be creative and imaginative. it's good to fantasize and feel pleasure, it's not a shameful thing and if conservatives and puritans or anyone else who is ashamed want to deprive themselves of those joys and pleasures in life they can but they're not gonna succeed in making me do the same

I love this sexy fucked up problematic evil dictator manchild, I'm gonna keep talking about fucking and sucking him and vice versa and you can't stop me >:)

#dr eggman #eggman #dr robotnik #dr. eggman #asks

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olderthannetfic · 1 year ago

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TL;DR: multiple people can arrive at the same fanfic idea/premise in different ways, but also, getting inspired by a different fanfic is not stealing, please don't gatekeep!

I joined a new fandom (it's Resident Evil (RE), which I'm mostly mentioning for that one 'nosy' anon because hell yeah I am super nosy as well, so here you go, dropping some names!), and I quickly stumbled upon one fandom-specific plot trope that I thought was both pretty neat but also super obvious (Infected!Character fic, which, in a world with zombies and viruses that cause zombies is a very logical trope).

Anyway, there was not quite as much body horror as I thought there would be, although I'm still looking, but that's not why I'm writing to you, that's just the (un)necessary background.

There was this one fic that I opened, which in its Author's Note clearly stated that the author set this fanfiction in another author's AU, because they loved the world created by this first author. The first fanfiction author basically came up with their own Infected!Character design and backstory (including fanart), and the second fanfiction author liked it so much they were now writing this fic based on/in that AU. Obviously not quoting the AN directly, but this second author was very complimentary and explicitly mentioned where they got the idea from, gushing about the first author.

In the AN for chapter two, the second author stated that they weren't aware that that first fanfiction author didn't allow others to write about the Infected!Character AU they'd made, that that first author in fact only allowed a very limited number of people they publicly approved of to write about their AU, and nobody else was allowed to touch the Infected!Character AU. This second author was now apologising in the AN for not knowing this, plus mentioning that they changed chapter one to switch up the backstory & design to not be too close to that of the first fanficton author's AU.

That made me sad, honestly. I've seen this attitude a couple of times, where fanfiction authors are super protective of their ideas that they won't allow any other fanfiction author to write about them, and it's always struck me as a little bit hypocritical, given the whole deal of fanfiction. Especially when the original/first fanfiction author is credited and the inspired work is clearly done because the second author loved the first fanfiction so much. If it's a highly developed/specific and original AU (so not just any common trope), and you don't even mention the fanfic you were inspired by, then I find that rude, but just flat out not allowing people to even touch 'your' thing? C'mon!

This partially ties into my other gripe about a specific type of comments I occasionally get, which are along the lines of 'huh interesting idea where did you get it? bc/btw there is this other fic with the same idea (posted before you)'; idk if I got the tone right, but they never seem to be actually genuinely asking how I got the idea (and I always delight in telling them, not sarcastically, I genuinely love talking about this stuff, bc I get inspired by the most random things and I love love writing 'original'/new things!! I love tropes as much as anybody, I read a shitton of them, but i when I write I love coming up with new shit/plot! it's so fun!!). They just vanish after my explanation, even when I try to invite further conversation. It always feels to me like they're 'checking' that I didn't steal the idea, and it feels a bit lousy.

I mean in (larger) fandoms, it is not surprising at all that two or three or even more people arrive at the same idea, maybe even inspired by the same thing, same reading of canon, or not, varied experiences--and just because the works are similar doesn't mean that they were inspired by one another, but if they are, that's not a sin! I just want people to not take everything in bad faith, and also, to not 'disallow' others from getting inspired, especially when they do it in a very polite manner!

It's because of comments like these that I sometimes, very privately, worry that before I'll manage to post the long fic I spent months writing--because I'm one of those who wants the thing finished before I start posting--somebody else will have a similar idea, post their thing first, and then I'll look like I'm lying about not reading/stealing their idea, or just jumping on the bandwagon, which again, it's not a bad thing, actually.

And it shouldn't be like that! I shouldn't worry, and people should also be more willing to accept that authors can arrive at the same idea at (roughly) the same time & accept that explanation without side-eyeing the author, and that if an author is inspired by a different fanfic, that's not a sin either (in fact, for me it would be an honour).

None of this is new either, but that RE stuff reminded me of it again.

Oh man, this is way longer than I thought it would be. Apologies. I'm going to add a TLDR at the start.

Anyway, I'm going to finish writing an Infected!Catboy!Leon fic now and be very unsurprised if I find out that somebody else has had the same idea long before me (aside from one or two reader fic inserts with that topic that I stumbled upon on tumblr, bc that's just not my thing at all (reader insert, I mean)).

In college, friends of mine had a falling out over one of them "stealing" the other's fic idea.

Space pirates.

Not specific space pirates. Not a way of integrating the concept that was fandom-specific. No, just the general idea of space pirates in the same fandom.

Never have I facepalmed so hard.

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tonguetiedraven · 10 months ago

Text

So I was cleaning up a few manga panels for my other blog, and darn it, I need to talk about my thoughts on two scenes in the Shimane Illuminati arc (specifically chapters 61 and 62) because Kato deserves all the applause for everything. This post will be for chapter 61 and I'll post 62 later.

TW/CW for character death, medical abuse, and mental health struggles. Content below the cut.

First, in chapter 61 we get this heart breaking page when Tamamo Kamiki dies.

To get into what I'm seeing with this panel, I need to give a brief (or I'll try and make it brief) overview of Tamamo. Tamamo gets introduced to us in chapter 52 and the first panel we get of her is her sobbing into the camera that everyone acts so cold towards her because she is sleeping with the head priest and not married to said high priest.

We are then told that she was an irresponsible and careless woman by Mike. We find out three really important things though.

Tamamo is judged by the people around her and gets a cold shoulder

Tamamo relies heavily on her daughter and the byakko to have the house run at all and has dreams of a fantastic family and house she has shown no ability to actually run.

Tamamo is in love with the (shitty) Chief Priest of Inari and that he isn't married to her.

We then find out:

That Tamamo and her entire line have always managed the terrifying and unruly Nine Tails by assimilating the god and becoming her, and that the town/shrine distrust her because of that, even though she does it to protect them. They ostracize her for the duty her family has and they judge the entire family because she had Soji's children.

Notice Soji isn't in the judged club and that Soji has never seen his daughters. He's never been to her house. It is always her going to him.

This theme of ostracization is something that pops up over and over and over again in Blue Exorcist. Almost all of the main characters had a childhood that was lonely and where they were rejected by their peers--almost always for things outside their direct control and almost always in someway connected to demons, even if they didn't know it, but I'll get to that more in a moment. Suffice to say, at this point we can see that Tamamo is isolated outside of her illicit meetings with Soji (not at all healthy as we'll see later on) her interactions with the demons around her, and her daughters, neither of which are old or mature enough to offer her the type of companionship she's in need of, which leads to everyone in this tangled dynamic having unhealthy relationships with each other.

We see Tamamo seeking connections and affections and largely being rebuffed by it everywhere except Tsukumo and the byakko. Soji's affection has strings attached, and Izumo is too fed up to offer any affection. The other members of the shrine ostracize her and give her a cold shoulder, and I'd bet money that they're vocal about their opinions any time she's around. (And they likely don't care if the kids are around or not.)

What I'm getting at is that Tamamo is lonely and you see that in how desperate she is for approval and connection and it mostly comes out with Soji. She does whatever he wants to keep her connection to him intact. We've also had a few indications thus far in the manga that isolation and depression and poor mental health are things demons take advantage of. We'll get more explanation on that later on, but suffice to say that Tamamo is not at all in a healthy spot to be constantly risking possession against an immensely powerful and evil demon.

I'll be honest and clear up front that I have no love for Soji and think him deplorable and he did not do anything to help Tamamo that we see. Rather, it seems he exclusively used her for his own pleasures without any care for her or the consequences their time together had.

I also think it's important that everyone know that Nine Tails -- at least the Nine Tails in this story -- is based of Tamamo no Mae who is an infamous yokai in Japanese lore. She has a long and complicated history with her origins unknown and a lot of political manipulation, but an important thing to know about her is that she is always depicted as a child eater. She devours women as well, and thrives on seducing men. She's beautiful and powerful and alluring, and she's manipulative.

So generations of women manipulated and regularly partially possessed by Nine Tails down the line, we have a shrine and town that reject Tamamo and her losing her grasp on the one adult who 'likes' her, and we see this moment:

We see her staring at him, enjoying the light atmosphere and gathering her courage (the sweat drop in the panel has me thinking she's nervous about this because it's not the first time this convo has happened.)

She wants him to come to her house and is trying to make it as appealing as possible. She wants a family and the life she's been dreaming up.

Soji rejects the idea entirely and pushes further by saying if she asks for him to interact with the kids in any way he'll dump her. The one adult connection she has will be lost because of her children. (Not actually. It's because he's a dick but she sees it as the children being the problem.)

She then goes immediately to Nine Tails to do the dance of spirit invocation which we're told this about:

So Tamamo--who has been isolated and lonely for at least a large chunk of her adult life is now seeing the one connection she's made with another adult (and an unhealthy one at that) potentially break because of her children-- goes to assimilate the Nine Tails in that unstable and unhealthy emotional and mental state.

It is heavily implied that Nine Tails started to take her over at this point, and you see her become more and more obsessed with Soji and more angry with her children, further isolating herself away from the small amount of support and connection she did have until she's entirely possessed by the vengeful and malevolent spirit of Nine Tails.

She murders Soji and tries to do the same to her children before the Illuminati take her and subject her to years of torture, all while she's still possessed by the Nine Tails.

One more detail and I'll get back to the scene in chapter 61.

When Tamamo was last fully in control of her faculties and saw her daughter, she saw Izumo in the same place she was. Ostracized by her community with no one but their small family to lean on. Her daughter was doomed to follow the same path Tamamo had, and at this point, it looks like this was a cycle that had been going on for at least a few generations. Isolated and connection starved women raising daughters who were isolated and connection starved children. Tamamo became overly touchy and clingy to everyone where Izumo became mistrustful. (And man does she have a lot of reasons for that.)

Now back to chapter 61 and the moment Tamamo dies.

She wakes up amongst the chaos of the zombie hoard going towards possessed Izumo, and she immediately intervenes to get the Nine Tails spirit back inside herself to save her daughter.

That's important to understand for her. She moved before the next moment I'm going to talk about. She saw Izumo possessed and didn't seem to hesitate to save her daughter. She has been tortured for five years and immediately moves to start that horrible possession again.

But while she's dancing to contain Nine Tails in herself, this is going on in the background:

Each of the other teens in the room came to get Izumo and they're shouting their support of her even while they fight an endless hoard of zombies because they came to get her. Tamamo can hear that happening and she can see that they came to help Izumo.

No one came to help Tamamo. At no point did anyone ever come to rescue her or fight for her. She was blamed for everything and was left to bear all the consequences for five years. (I am not blaming Izumo for that. She was a child and was not responsible for saving her mother.)

But with "We're here for you!" ringing in Tamamo's ears, she completes the ritualistic dance and frees her daughter from the possession.

Tamamo in her dying moments looks at her daughter and sees a community around her that Tamamo didn't have. She sees people willing to intervene and help and fight even though Izumo is pushing them away and possessed and not easy to get along with.

Tamamo, from everything we saw, was isolated and rejected by her community and had no one to support her. She was manipulated and played by her significant other and left vulnerale to possession by a society that needed her to do the thankless job and hated her for doing the thankless job. She was bubbly and friendly and still pushed away and rejected and ostracized until she succumbed to Nine Tails.

back to chapter 52

Blue Exorcist talks a lot about curses and ostracization. All the main cast suffer from it in some way or another. They've all been called terrible things and most of them have been treated as if they aren't human, and a lot of them have complicated lineages and may not be fully human which just amplifies the amount they're rejected by their peers.

For Tamamo, that curse was literal and figurative. The literal curse was the constant absorption of an insane demon that eventually consumed her until she'd destroyed what little family she had.

It was figurative in that as the head priestess and medium in charge of the rituals, she was rejected by the community she needed to support her. She was left floundering on the outside, always given just a taste of what she could have had if she was born to a different family, and left with a longing for what she would never be given and always wondering why she couldn't have it. (And yes, I'm probably reading into some things and filling in the blanks with hypothesis and assumptions.)

But in that final moment, Tamamo sees that curse of isolation and rejection has been broken by Izumo. That her daughter, who like all the daughters of the Kamiki line was alone, is no longer alone. That she has friends and support. Support that followed her into this hell and reached out to call her back even from a demon like Nine Tails.

I don't know if I've made myself all that clear, but I love the way that Kato has shown this over and over again and keeps showing the rejection of isolation and ostracization as any kind of solution. That she keeps showing through each of these relationships and arcs that it's reaching for and connecting with other people that brings change and healing and hope, and I love how she shows that through moments like this. It's a little moment that's so easy to miss, but it's so immensely huge when looked at in the context of the entirety of Tamamo's life.

I wish she knew that they would have come for her if they'd known she'd been there all this time. I wish she'd have found a community to support her and I wish she'd had someone to tell her Soji was a dick and she could do better.

I wish she could see Izumo now, still connected to her friends and even though it's the end of the world, she's fighting with and beside them. That she's seeking out connections and learned her lesson about not needing to be alone. That she's teased and loved and welcomed.

But I'm pretty sure in that final moment, she saw it all anyway.

As always, check out my tag #raven rambles for more aoex meta and analysis

#blue exorcist #ao no exorcist #izumo kamiki #tamamo kamiki #manga discussion #shimane illuminati arc #it has occurred to me i could have used anime screenshots #but honestly it's easier to get the manga #and i still forget i have it all animated sometimes xD #wow that got long #raven ramble #i love this story so much #and god the way she writes about connections and relationships #and how she uses so many types #i love it so much #shura and ryuuji and shirou and izumo and rin and yukio #gah #i could write lengthy essays on all of them and still not feel like i've conveyed my thoughts

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