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thelordofgifs · 10 months

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A WILD FINARFIN APPEARS!!!

i really loved this chapter! Lúthien in her Finrod era is everything. And she's making friends 😩😩😩 my poor little baby she is everything to me and Also it looks like she's ready to return to her old maia shenanigans i like it

Morwen beloved i feel you... bright people can be So tiring sometimes

finarfin showed up and i was like HECK YEAH!!! THE MAN THE MYTH THE ULTIMATE POLL LOOSING CURSE BEARER!!! you have my permission to put him in the spinner and make him pathetic though he is very pathetic already. poor guy :(

eärwen is so everything to me!! i love my women angry and sad and bitter thank you

FINDUILAS AND CELEBRIMBOR ARE SO BABY I'M HOLDING THEM GENTLY IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO THEM I'M BURNING THIS PLACE TO THE GROUND

all in all amazing chapter!! fantastic work beloved

p.s. the russingon section is. hmm. i'm not sure i want to know how their dirty talk sounds like- they're so sad and doomed. poor babies. why can't they just have nice things. just make their vassals suffer their shameless flirting over war maps i'm sure that won't end badly at all

p.p.s. "we should move our armies here and here it would make fighting against morgoth much easier" - "omg babe that was so hot" - "i know 😏"

thank you you are the bestest ❤️❤️❤️ writing that Finarfin section like hmmmm… which of my mutuals might this appeal to… a mystery unfortunately…

Anyway yes Lúthien is very much in her Finrod era (“mortals are so cute and they’re all going to die OH NO”) and we love her for it. Writing her and Morwen was very interesting to me – I wanted them to have a difficult relationship without falling into any “women hating each other” clichés, so I’m really glad some people liked that! Lúthien is canonically So Much – incredibly powerful, terrifying to all villains, half the characters in her story fall in love with her at first sight – and I think the flipside of that is that she can be pretty exhausting for someone reserved like Morwen! (I read Morwen as autistic – very much inspired by @outofangband’s wonderful headcanons of course – and Lúthien is unintentionally triggering a lot of Morwen’s sensory issues.)

Eärwen is so fascinating to me because I think canonically she must have found her children’s decision to go on with the march so hard to deal with – and they were even planning to use the stolen ships her people had been killed for, before Fëanor quite literally set fire to that plan! I’ve always thought she would have a hard time reconciling with Finrod when he returned to life (and her other sons, but I think Finrod returned first); his own kin were killed at Alqualondë and yet he eventually made nice with his cousins!

In tfs Finrod’s refusal to come forth from Mandos for Celegorm’s sake is a Significant Plot Point, even if it’s one I don’t give too much attention to. The sacred right of refusal… the idea that you can be given a blessing from the gods themselves and yet choose to throw it away… these are themes that are going to recur. (Partly why in recent parts Fingon has been thinking about Eagles, and what the favour of the Valar means.) But! The flipside of Finrod’s decision is kind of an ugly one. Eärwen has every right to her bitterness! She sees this as Finrod once again choosing his Noldor kin over his Telerin kin, and the betrayal really stings. I will confess that I am not entirely sure how this is all going to pan out, but politics in Aman are going to have Ripples as a result of Finrod’s choice.

As for russingon – look this is my murder warlord OTP and I adore them. I think they’re both drawn to the other’s violent streak, and they do genuinely find military strategy talk very very sexy. Weirdos (affectionate). Whenever I write one of these conversations between them, I have to be sure never to suggest that, for example, Fingon’s hotness distracts Maedhros from the military talk – the military talk is itself hot to Maedhros (and vice versa). I find them so funny and so tragic ok.

#asks #that-angry-noldo #the fairest stars #ty beloved I adore hearing your thoughts ❤️❤️

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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More undateables with a demigod hades mc???

By request, have yourself a part two!!

Demigod MC Series: Hades Pt. 2 (Un)Dateables Edition!

I will ask that y’all please don't ask for continuations of other gods unless I say it’s okay to do again. This series already fills my inbox something fierce and this is a one-off that I allowed for during the request window. If I have to make ideas for new gods while continuing a bunch of old MCs, it'll burn me out fast...

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2

Diavolo

Oh, he has no problem at all hosting a child of the Underworld, hell he even throws them a welcome banquet when he finds out! Hades is a dear friend - and practically a parental figure to him growing up - so he's more than happy to take in one of his children for a year.

Diavolo is actually one of the few people that the MC can talk to about their home with any kind of fondness. Usually when they bring up things like the comforting wailing of the River Coctyus, the brothers will give them weird looks... but Diavolo knows where they're coming from!

He spent numerous summers in the Underworld growing up doing things like pestering Charon on the River Styx or playing games with Cerberus (the other one) in the Asphodel Meadows... His beach house is actually modeled after his childhood summer home in the Isles of Paradise! Really, it can be a lovely place if the gloom doesn't bother you!

So in the spirit of his fond memories, Diavolo really tried to make their time in the Devildom a fun one!... in his maybe trying a little too hard way…

Poor MC found themselves offered pretty much everything under the moon… Tickets or exclusive passes to different cultural events/festivals, invitations to gala events, and tours of nearly every inch of Hell by the Prince himself - it was… it was a lot for the poor introverted thing…

It didn’t help that Diavolo would have a hard time gauging if they were having any fun due to their naturally melancholic nature, which only pushed him to try harder… He means well, he does. He’s just not the most in touch with what would make an anti-social doom child happy...

It took Barbatos and Lucifer stepping in for the mortal to actually start getting some much needed space and that improved their experience significantly. Sometimes less is more, Dia… Less is more. But they appreciate his efforts anyway.

Barbatos

Also has a pretty amicable relationship with the Ruler of the Underworld, though his is much more professional compared to Diavolo’s. He actually has a good deal of appreciation for the man for taking good care of the Prince during his visits, so he sees this as an opportunity to return the favor.

Like Diavolo, he’s rather focused on making sure the MC is having a good stay in the Devildom, but he’s much more subtle about it. He’ll come by the House often to check up on them and make sure everything is to their liking...

Even the brothers notice that he treats them like anothering visiting Lord/Lady in that way, which he would argue they very much are and should be respected as one. It’s the least the Devildom can offer their father at this point.

His visits may also be an excuse for keeping an eye on the brothers to make sure they don’t do anything to inconvenience their “young guest…” To be honest, the entire House is a little paranoid about that… Nobody wants to know the punishment for hurting MC if Barbs is the one dishing it out...

Apart from watching out for them, Barbatos tries to encourage the MC to accept the Young Lord’s gifts (while also actively advising Diavolo to go easier on them at the same time). It would be so disheartening to him if his Prince feels like he hasn’t offered them the best experience that he could… He’s sure they understand.

Any time that he invites the MC to tea, they usually end up talking about their father in some way. Barbs knows a surprising amount about the god… He’s been around about as long as Chronos - preceding the birth of Aether and Chaos themselves - so he has some stories to tell.

The MC did once ask him why he doesn’t just run everything if he’s really been around for so long... his answer was: “Kings and their kingdoms will rise and fall… Worlds upon worlds are born, then cease to be. But time is what brings about all changes… So, I think I’m perfectly content with the power I possess. Wouldn’t you be?”

Annnd they never asked Barbs another question like that again… and people think death is scary…

Simeon

He was honestly a little worried for their new companion for quite a while… It’s not like there’s never any sadness in the Celestial Realm or anything, but they seem to have something else entirely…

He’s heard stories about the Underworld. He’s never been himself, that’s usually a job for the Seraphim due to the… dreary nature of the place - but he’s heard it would make the Devildom look downright festive…

If he were being honest, he had half expected the MC to be obsessed with skeletons, ghosts, and other elements of darkness but that wasn’t the case. They certainly knew a lot about those things, but they appeared to have a healthy interest in the afterlife in general, so they asked him a lot of questions about the Celestial Realm, angels, and how the souls of the blessed are treated up there… It was surprising to say the least.

Of course he did the same and, frankly, Simeon found it incredibly wasteful that so many Greek followers find themselves just wasting away in a field of nothing for so long… but that’s neither here nor there.

He was also surprised by how gentle of an influence the MC ended up being on Luke as well. He had always suspected that the little angel just needed a bridge between him and Devildom to start finding appreciation for it, and the MC fit that bill perfectly - nothing he was used to, but still approachable enough to make everything less frightening. He thanks them a great deal for that… but...

It’s just that… Well they’re just so… depressing sometimes…! He doesn’t want to blame them because it hardly seems like their fault! They’re a very kind person, it’s just an atmosphere around them… It brings him to tears if he isn’t careful…

He’s invited the MC to Purgatory Hall on multiple occasions to chat and try to make them smile… When they do, the gloom is dispelled - even just a little - and they’re a truly beautiful creature regardless. It’s just so unfortunate that their life brings so much sadness...

Even so, he actually likes the MC enough to consider basing a character on them if he ever wrote another book. Something about a gloomy but sweet protagonist at home in a world of darkness sounds appealing… doesn’t it?

Luke

He didn’t know how to feel about the MC when they met. At first, he actually thought they were just as unhappy as he was to be there due to how depressed they looked but when they told him that wasn't true, he was really confused...

The Devildom is a dark, brutish, and dangerous place. Why would anyone feel at home down here??

But… well… He would spend time with them at RAD between breaks (partially to help scare off their many, many demonic suitors) and it might be weird to say, but they really made the Devildom look beautiful… literally.

The world just looks better when they’re around! It’s really hard to describe because it’s not something you notice much until they leave, but when the MC is around everything looks more vibrant and inviting! The grass gets greener, flowers grow bigger, and butterflies/birds hover around wherever they are like they have their own gravity - the realm loves them!

It started getting hard for Luke to hang onto his disdain for the place when they made it look so appealing… And then they started talking to him about the Underworld and the creatures they’d befriended there… creatures a lot worse than any demons he’d seen there...

Like. If the MC can be good friends with a bunch of rude walking corpses, then he could probably make friends with a demon right? There’s nice ones… kind of…

Beel. He can make friends with Beel.

Like Simeon, he does feel bad that they seem so sad all the time… but unlike the older angel, he’s a bit more understanding that this is just how they are and enjoys his time with them regardless. (It helps a lot that just being around this little bean of a boy can lift their spirits anyway).

And you know what’s even better for him? When Lord Diavolo gives the MC tickets to things that they don’t want to go to, sometimes they’ll invite him along or give them to him instead!

He’s gone to the Devil’s Coast with MC and Simeon sooo many times by now and he loves it!! Maybe the Devildom isn’t so bad after all, I mean, it can be a lot of fun when you go to the right places, anyway.

Solomon

Oh, he finds them both deeply fascinating and utterly terrifying - so just his sort of test sub-er, person!

He kids (somewhat), Solomon isn’t that dumb/lacking in self-preservation instinct. Experimenting on a child of death in a land of the dead (even if it’s not their “home turf”) would be asking for trouble. They’d have more than enough ammunition to fight him off and if their father found out? Immortality wouldn’t even begin to save him...

That being said, questions aren’t necessarily experiments… and oh boy, does he have a lot of them.

If the MC isn’t being pestered by Diavolo or the brothers, then they’re probably having to put up with Solomon nipping at their heels trying to get them to use their powers or answer all sorts of “innocent” scientific questions…

“MC, reanimation of Greek dead requires a blood offering, correct? Do you have to sacrifice animals for that process or do you allow them to feast on your own?”

“MC, when you’re controlling a skeleton do you move the body as a whole or do you have to animate each individual bone due to their lack of ligaments?”

“Think fast!! Oh look, you just caught the skull of my good friend, Richard! Could you bring him back from that, or should I fetch the rest of him?” 🙂

They put up with it because, believe it or not, he’s not nearly the weirdest person they’ve ever met (a lot of crazy people drift in and out of the land of the dead…) and well… they’re a pretty lonely person too so it’s not like they have a lot of standards when it comes to friendships anyway.

But the second they breathe a word of this to Barbs or Diavolo, this boy is on his way to a royal restraining order… Where does he even get those skulls…?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me undateables #obey me datables #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me demigods #obey me requests

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evakuality · 3 years

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Matteo - Episode three

Social Media - There’s so much of it this week! At the time, I only followed a couple of accounts and then only saw the rest when it was posted to the tag. I think I’m grateful for that. This is absolutely overwhelming, the sheer volume of things the characters were putting out. But it’s also really nice that we get all this normal teenage life stuff. It really does allow an immersive ‘this is real people doing real stuff’ feeling to everything. Particularly people like Kiki and Sam who have little to do with the plot. It keeps them real and alive through a season where they were a bit more sidelined (and I love that Matteo and David’s little trip later on keeps them alive in a way that doesn’t overpower Amira’s season - this is a really clever way for the producers to keep fan favourites active without having to shoehorn them into places where they don’t belong). I am also a bit concerned about some of this though - how on earth did the boys not get in trouble for filming the dancing girls and posting it to social media? At most schools I know that would have resulted in some serious discipline action. However, the most fascinating thing about the social media is the party at the end of the episode. Sara didn’t start posting much on her stuff until much later in the evening (the reason this post is so late is because I was waiting to watch through all the social media before I worked with it - and there was so much for so long that I was able to notice the patterns in it in a way I didn’t at the time) and then Leonie took over and it was interesting what she chose to show and how non-perfect it all was compared to what Sara was trying to do before she got really incapacitated. I know it’s not technically part of this episode but the text string between the two of them the next day where Sara panics over how Matteo might take seeing her in such a sloppy drunken state is very telling. She really really wants to put on a show to make sure he’s not turned off by her not being ‘perfect’ - again, this is all very subtly done but there’s a really strong push to show how much of what is put onto social media isn’t a real and true depiction of who we really are. And of course that’s most important for Matteo himself. He’s still very actively putting on a front and it’s only partly to try to cover for the fact that he’s interested in boys not girls. He’s really not happy or at ease with pretty much any aspect of himself, but he’s also not really willing to show it to anyone. Except David. Which we’ll see as we go through the clips.

Clip one - Matteo’s shelf in the fridge is so sad! Someone (a parent maybe?) should really be making sure he has food and is looking after himself. We touched a bit last episode on food and nurturing and what we see here is Matteo very much not nurturing himself. Even more so than Sara, he has no care for his own wellbeing. Also he’s relying heavily on other people (Hans in this case) to do the heavy lifting for him. It’s also a major contrast to the playful, if disgusting, sandwich he made with David. Here it’s really just about putting something in to his body and there’s no thought for anything other than basic survival. Which is, tbh, a good metaphor for Matteo’s approach to his life at this time. The chat with Mia again veers close to things that are difficult for Matteo - he’s wearing David’s beanie, trying to get that bit of closeness to him, but then Mia starts asking awkward questions about why the kitchen was so terrible and what Matteo was up to and it’s all a bit tough. Matteo tries again to deflect and lie to cover his tracks. Which... is he ever going to learn? This lying is forever getting him in hot water when he’s caught out. Jonas even calls him out on it, basically saying ‘if you’re going to use me as an excuse then give me a heads up first’ showing that he has Matteo’s back, but is incapable of helping him if he won’t help himself. At this point, of course, Matteo has closed off because there’s a lot he finds too hard to talk about but Jonas is already giving those hints that he’d be there for Matteo if only Matteo would let him be. But at least Mia’s pushing serves one purpose - Matteo makes contact with David again and they manage to connect and get over the little hitch that David’s ditching caused. Both are still hiding bits of themselves from each other (David more so obviously), but both are quite happy to make these connections and are comfortable with each other. That David responds is so nice; it sets up the dynamic so different to the original and Matteo is much more secure in David’s friendship than Isak was with Even at this point just because of this. Then of course Matteo does the gay test, and it’s clear he already knows but he’s just sort of trying to work through some things. It leads to some of the things he says later that are quite unfortunate (both to the boys about the dance teacher in this episode and to Hans later about the ways to be gay), but I think there’s a genuine desire to figure out what gay might look like rather than any truly homophobic stuff. societal expectations and stereotypes and our own internal biases mess with us big time!!

Clip two - There’s not a lot of difference with the dancing girls clip, but it’s nice to see David again and the interactions between him and Matteo are a lot more natural than with Isak and Even. I guess because these two are in the same year, it’s much easier to pass off knowing each other and so Matteo really is a lot more casual than Isak ever was. The tone of the ‘why does he have to be so gay’ is different here too - Matteo’s much more low key and subdued when he’s called out on ‘why do we insult gays’ and he’s apologising fairly quickly. It really is much more obvious that he’s trying to work out what ‘gay’ is than trying to distance himself from the idea of being gay. He has a lot of issues and a lot of stuff to work through but it’s entrenched in an entirely different way to the og even though the words are almost exactly the same. The power of acting and body language!! Of course, this makes sense for both characters too - Isak and Matteo have different experiences and different lives and so they each act in a way that makes sense for them. I’m super impressed that the same conversation can look so different - both actors are very very good.

Clip three - This scene with Matteo and Sara works much better for me than the one with Isak and Emma. But perhaps that’s because Sara is allowed to be much more of a rounded character rather than a plot device. We can say all we like (and Leonie is so clearly right there with us) that Sara needs to wake up and see how badly Matteo is treating her, but the way this is developing makes it clear why she thinks and acts the way she does and we can have a lot of sympathy for her even while rolling our eyes at how obviously this is not working out. This right here is the moment where Matteo really should have said ‘yeah sorry, this isn’t working for me’ but he chooses not to because he still wants that security of having ‘someone’ if the thing with David turns out the way he expects it to (eg, David and Leonie being a thing). He wants the ability to hide and say ‘see, there was nothing there, I have a girlfriend so I’m not at all upset that David has one too’ and it’s shitty behaviour and it’s totally unfair to Sara, but at this point Matteo can’t see beyond his own needs. Sara is very clearly not happy with the situation and she rightly feels sidelined and unappreciated but she is still willing to accept his word when she puts those words into his mouth. She’s still invested in this fantasy in her head and she is carefully scripting it so that it goes the way she wants it to. Like last week when she was talking over Matteo to avoid hearing anything he’s saying, here she’s literally telling him what to say to get the outcome she wants. Leonie has quite obviously got a better handle on the situation, but Sara doesn’t want to hear it. Sara, again bless her, is very open about what she wants and needs from a relationship and how she’s feeling. She refuses to take Matteo’s very half-hearted attempt at sweet talking her at face value and demands some accountability. But it’s the very nature of those demands that sets her doom. She tells him what she needs and he gives it to her - only it’s a very pale and weak imitation of what she would really like. He uses her communication skills to play her.

Clip four - I loathe how no-one takes Matteo’s wants and needs into account, pretty much ever. He’s in such a rut of being used to just going with the flow that even when he tries to assert his own wants people straight up ignore him. It’s sad that he allows Kiki etc to basically commandeer his home for their party but it’s very much in keeping with how everything else is going. Last week, Kiki was super irritated because she had a picture of how things were going to go (they would have their event and Matteo would host it) and she couldn’t deal with things not being under her control. I suspect that if Sara hadn’t been with them and hadn’t done the speaking for Matteo, he would have been bullied into doing what she wanted then too. He clearly doesn't want to do this , but at least he uses it as a way to get closer to David. ‘Well, this party idea sucks, but maybe I can get this guy I like there’ and so he goes right up to him and invites him. While he’s quite checked out of significant parts of his life, when Matteo really wants something he’s not scared of going after it. Of course, as we see in later events, this gets him in trouble at times. But for right now it’s nice to see him taking some small control of his life. This is only possible, of course, because he was able to connect with David fairly quickly after he left last week. The fact that they are able to do this is testament to how easily they do understand each other and even while its awkward, this relationship doesn’t have the underlying tensions that the one with Sara does. It’s awkward in a positive way.

Clip five - there’s lots going on in this one. The studying and how little interest and engagement Matteo has with it. The consequent stalking of David on Sara’s account, the flow over into looking for David’s favourite movie, and of course Hans and his intrusion into Matteo’s quiet space again and then his attempt at using grindr. It’s a slow, fairly quiet clip and yet Matteo ends up doing a lot in it. It shows again, I think, just how much he values his time by himself and how much it works for him to be allowed to do things at his own pace. I’ve said before I really enjoy seeing the characters in their own environments being chill and just hanging with themselves. It shows us a lot of how they are. In this case, Matteo moves very quickly from the boredom of the studying to things he has more interest in. Like David. He’s restless and disengaged, using all of his tricks to try to distract himself (playing with plants etc) and then very quickly giving up on what he should do. I like that we get these sorts of smaller, lower key indications of how much David means to him as well. It’s not big grandiose expressions of interest, but he watches the movie because David likes it. He can’t even let himself stare at the picture for too long because it feels like a huge admission (he literally breaks eye contact with it and looks away the way he often does with David himself). It’s in these unguarded moments in his own space that we really see Matteo and he’s a mess, but he’s a mess who really does want connection and to find meaning with someone.

Clip six - We all love this one, right? It’s such a nice moment with David and their almost-kissing is very intense. But there’s a lot going on before that that I also want to look at. First, the way the boys call Matteo a ‘player’?????? how???? That’s his girlfriend????? He is playing her and stringing her along when he shouldn’t, but he’s not playing the field which is generally what we mean when we say this sort of thing. He has one girl and that one girl has made it pretty clear that he is hers. In many ways Matteo would be better off if he was playing the field - then there’s no expectations and he gets a rep as a ladies man. But this works better for him - he can sort of fall into it and follow along with it without having to put any effort in at all. She literally speaks for him, even. I have always found it fascinating how much Matteo keeps to himself in this clip. He hugs the walls like they’re his home and Sara is out there in the middle and there’s such a disconnect between the way they’re both acting. How would Matteo have coped with the expectations Sara outlines about sex had she not got so blind drunk she had to be taken home? It seems like it would have led to something very awkward and maybe she’d have finally got the picture.

Laura's little visit to see Matteo is cute too. Obviously she knows that David is interested and so she checks him out. It’s a shame it’s interrupted by Hans who then monopolises Matteo, but she was quite deliberate in finding him and speaking with him and I love the sibling support. David’s shirt he chooses to appeal to Matteo is hilarious too. The thought process (and the discussions with Laura at home beforehand) must have been brilliant. ‘I always wear black and am mysterious and aloof and cool, but to attract this boy I will wear a white shirt with a stupid picture on it’ - that it does attract Matteo just shows how attuned David is to his future boyfriend. Maybe he’s stalking the instagrams too - the Matteo Monday and Florenzi Friday do suggest that this is something that might appeal to Matteo.

Hans and Andi bother me too. In much the same way that I dislike that Sara assumes that Matteo not wanting sex with her means he’s gay (like? It’s okay not to want sex!! It doesn’t say anything about your sexuality), I don’t like that Hans has talked about Matteo to Andi and allows him to be so forward and aggressively sexual with someone who is very obviously not willing to be out. I know Hans is trying to be there for Matteo and to encourage him to accept himself (I think it’s pretty clear that he knows or thinks Matteo likes guys). But this is a party with all of Matteo’s friends. What did they think would happen? Why did they think he’d react in any way other than the one he does? Hans looks confused when Matteo pushes away and leaves, but why? This behaviour is entirely consistent with everything we know of his character. That it ends in an actual panic attack makes it all much more sad and difficult to watch. Honestly, outing people when they’re not ready is not cool and Hans should know this.

The panic attack itself is so well done. There’s no dialogue and yet we can see very obviously how Matteo is feeling and just how ‘normal’ this is to him. He has a set of behaviours that he follows to try to take the edge off. He throws things (this is his go-to when he’s stressed and he does it a LOT), he tries weed and he finally tries music and sitting by himself, cuddling a cushion for comfort. I know a million people have discussed this at length, but I don’t think we can speak about this clip without at least touching on it. Everything about it is done so well and it all combines to allow Matteo’s feelings to shine through. I love that it’s allowed to happen at a party and that we see very clearly how these things can be overwhelming for characters. I won’t go on anymore, but it’s just great and the acting is so perfect. I genuinely think this small part of this clip is probably my favourite acting out of everything in this show.

And then of course we have the stuff after everyone else has left. Again, a million people have discussed this in a million ways, but I love how this scene again shows how easily they get each other, how good they are at communicating with each other and how quickly they get on the same page. Matteo has no trouble at all saying what he thinks and pressing for information. This parallels Sara in some ways - she is like this with Matteo, making her wants and needs clear and putting herself on the line. Again, this is all very good set up for later on when Matteo finally finds himself in her position and realises just how much his behaviour hurt her because he’s living her side. However, unlike Matteo, David is quite clear and honest back. And that’s why they can so quickly move into a potential kiss. As with Matteo and Sara, there are close ups as they lean into each other, but somehow it feels like there’s more space for them to breathe here. The camera allows them both to be in the frame naturally, whether Sara is often invading into Matteo’s shots. Here, they’re both on board and both want it. I like that Matteo gets a moment to be open and himself after his experience with Andi. It must take a lot of courage to do this after he was so badly affected earlier. Testament to David’s calming presence which reassures rather than pushes, and how honest they are with each other - there’s no way David could miss how relieved Matteo is when he finds out that Laura is David’s sister not his girlfriend. They’re both very brave here - David for telling Matteo he looks good and Matteo for trying to take that next step even after his panic attack. And I think that’s a nice place to leave this. Because that’s already such a lot and this has all already been said before.

#druck #og druck #Matteo - episode 3 #again super long I'm sorry #one day I'll learn how to be concise

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cellard0ors · 3 years

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Ficlet: Beneath The Surface

Mermay isn't over yet, so...

Link swishes his long blue tail with a sigh. The seas are so boring today. Absolutely nothing is going on. No migrations, no events with other Mers, nothing.

It's enough to make him want to bury himself beneath the sand, something he detests doing, but other Mers swear by. Good for the scales, reportedly.

Link just knows it makes him feel dirty, itchy. Yuck! No thank you. But he has to find something to do. He could explore some old human junkers, but he's pretty much combed over the ones in his territory.

He could move up towards the surface of the water - catch some sun, some wind, ride the waves - but, again - a well trod activity.

Besides, that activity is always borderline dangerous. Hard to say if a human ship will sail by. It's rare, true - his territory is far from shore. ALL Mers choose territory far from shore, but still - you never know - humans are a strange lot.

Now, thanks to the Mers interactions with Sirens in the ancient times, Mers do have the ability to protect themselves from such things.

The Sirens taught them the secret of their songs, and with them, if a Mer is unlucky enough to encounter a human, they can always sing, wiping the humans memories of the event.

But it's not something to be taken lightly, what with humans' general...strangeness. Link's heard some wild stories. Albeit he'll always be indebted to them for their invention of looking glass cases.

He has to wear a pair at all times, his vision oddly poor for a Mer. The local Mer sorcerer, Hobby, was the one who enchanted Link's cases, making sure they don't move or leave his face when he swims.

They can only be removed by hand and Link only does that when he prepares for bed - but all of this is besides the point - he's bored.

So what to do? Link swishes his tail more, propelling himself this way and that, when he feels a stirring in the seas. Something is...coming.

Looking up, he sees a large dark object descending towards him at a rapid rate, bubbles trailing up in its wake.

Alarmed, he backs away. Is it a net? An anchor of some kind? He is close enough to the surface for that to be possible...

Instead he sees a large rock shoot past him with a rope attached and attached to the other end of that rope? A human.

Link watches in horror as the combo rocket downwards. Humans can't breathe beneath the waves - they don't have the blessing of both gills and lungs like Mers do. Mers can survive on land and in the sea - humans cannot.

Yes, they can get very far with some strange equipment they wear sometimes, but this human does not have that as far as Link can tell in the blur of movement and now he's faced with a choice.

Intervene or don't.

Except no choice is really made on his part, as he instead acts on instinct, swimming swiftly alongside the descending debris. There's no way he can try to fight the propulsion and pull both up - he doesn't have the strength for that, but he can cut the rope

Hobby taught him enough Mer magics for that and so, moving as swiftly as possible, he mutters an enchant to sharpen his fins, making them capable of slicing through the rope in one swift swipe.

Once the rope is severed, the rock continues hurtling downwards, but the human? His downward spiral slows, enough for Link to get a good grip on them and surge upwards.

Up and up and up until they both break through the surface of the water. Link breathes in but he's not sure if the human (it's a man, he can tell that now, the shape of him rather distinct) is doing so.

It's hard to swim with the additional weight, much less to shore, but he has to try. With another muttered enchant, he increases his speed - too bad he doesn't know any spells to give him extra strength - his arms are burning.

Yet he'll have to thank Hobby later - if not for some lessons from him, this hu-this man, would've been doomed for sure.

He might still be for all Link knows, and he can't swim fast enough, even with the magic. Humans might have their issues, but if this one dies...

Link doesn't know why he feels so responsible, but he does, and he prays to Neptune as they approach the sands of an abandoned beach.

Once there, Link drags them to shore. Under the right conditions, he can create legs - pass for human. Many Mers do so in their first years of maturity - it's considered a rite of passage. You have to choose - the land or the sea.

Link already made his choice, but that doesn't mean the ability is completely lost. Still, he has no time for that. Instead he lugs them both up and immediately begins doing what he can to get the man to breathe.

He turns him this way and that, presses on his chest and belly and somehow, someway, water dislodges from him. The man makes choking sounds as a considerable amount of water bubbles up and out of his mouth and then-?!?

Breath.

The man is breathing. Link relaxes so much he nearly collapses on to his back. He did it! He saved the man! Now, with a job well done, he can return to the sea.

...

...annnny minute now...

But, well, he had been bored. And the man isn't awake...breathing, which is good, but awake no, so, Link could...

Or, um, actually, he already is inspecting him and is this a man? He has...so much hair...

Thick, curly hair that looks dirty blonde and is sopping wet and long and there's hair on his face too - a LOT of it and what an odd human...

Link looks him up and down and realizes this human is long. Standing, he must be quite tall. His legs go on forever. If he had a tail? What a sight that might be.

Link looks at his face again. It's a nice face. Strong, handsome, albeit obstructed by the hair (both from his head and face) on it and Link brushes away some arrant wet curls that stick here and there, trying to see more of the man.

His skin has been kissed by the sun - a fisherman, perhaps? It's an uncharitable thought, a nasty occupation as far as Mers are concerned, but still...

Link keeps looking at him.

Why can't he stop looking at him?

He's seen humans before. They're really not all that fascinating. But there's something about this one...he just feels drawn to him. Is it simply because he saved him?

Yes, that must be it. This human, this man... he's Link's responsibility, that's all. It certainly has nothing to do with the slope of his brow, or the shape of his lips, or-!

The man's eyes slowly open.

And Link is lost.

Green. Sea glass green. Green like those interwoven seaweed fields of his youth, the spirals found in a turtles' shells, green like-!

He's awake!

Link jerks back, realizing his folly. He has to sing! He has to coax this man back to sleep, he has to make him think this is a dream! He has to-!

"Wh-who?" The voice is husky, dark, enticing. Link can't ignore it, can't deny it, "Link."

Once the answer is out though, Link's eyes grow wide in alarm and he finds himself babbling, "Ah-! No! I-!"

And then, like a complete blubber fish, he falls apart, fleeing back to the sea and the safety of its waters. He swims out far and fast and gets a few leagues away before he finally risks peeking up over the surface again, somehow unable to help himself.

He peeks and the man... he's standing now. Standing tall and proud, one hand shielding his eyes as he looks out over the horizon. He looks and Link isn't sure if he sees him or not, but Link - still scallop brained - waves.

The man waves back.

...I might add more to this. It's more of a tease than a snippet tbh.

#rhink #mermay #mermaid!au #my writing #randl

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flying-elliska · 3 years

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writing Six of Crows meta because it's the season, I guess : So that thing about crows and memory as a central theme of the story, I find absolutely fascinating. Especially as they live in a place that doesn't seem big on the memory thing, it's constantly changing - they can't even bury their dead because of plague fears so they burn them, etc.

Kaz obviously took the crow on as a symbol of his grudge against Pekka and in memory of his brother. But it becomes more as he finds people to look out for (I can't help but think this is something he wanted since the beginning without allowing himself to because caring is dangerous). He turns the Dregs crow from a scavenger who "takes the leavings" (that nobody wants) into a symbol of loyalty and revenge for the underdogs (crows remembering who hurt them and who was kind to them and telling each other, taking on each other's grudges and loyalties). Memory is the trauma that risks dragging you under but it's also the only way to get revenge and the only justice you will make for yourself - remembering those who got forgotten by everybody else in a ruthless world. Kaz asks Pekka to remember his brother's name as a way to say 'he didn't matter to you or anybody else but he did matter to me" ; the worst brutality is suffering that goes completely forgotten in an uncaring world. Nina's story in Crooked Kingdom also reads to me as a trauma story ; she's been marked by her experience with parem and her powers have been altered, she finds new powers by recognizing that she has changed, she's darker than she used to be, she's 'the Queen of Mourning' and there is something both grim and powerful about that. Kaz asks her to trigger people's memory of the plague with her powers as a way to clear the streets because he knows (on a personal level) how much that marked people. There is power to be found in understanding the things that marked you. Wylan's mother has been hidden away, doomed to be forgotten, her memory fractured, because she wasn't able to produce the right kind of heir ; she keeps painting her son as a child as something to cling to, knowing she used to be more than a patient/victim. Wylan's father also wanted to doom him to being forgotten ; he has to run away, to change his name and his face, to learn ruthlessness ; finding his mother is the start of him fighting to claim his own name again, his own face, his home, etc. He beats his father by a memory trick ; reciting the Transfer of Authority that was first used to put his mother away. He has to remember because he can't read, it's a survival thing he can use here because they've underestimated how clever he is because he can't perform to society's expectations of what it means to be smart. Inej's past still trips her up, she is afraid of being recognized, it paralyzes her, but at some point she realizes that she doesn't have to be trapped by it. She decides to use the memory of the horrible things that were done to her as a motivation to hunt slavers so it won't happen to other young girls like her. Inej and Kaz recognize each other's trauma and that they have to be careful with each other ; I love that she believes in a future for them and he doesn't necessarily but he gives her the tools she needs because he does believe in her. And what she says about forgiveness is so interesting, too - he believes he's been tainted forever and she says that regardless, he can still earn forgiveness.

And Jesper, I think, is running away from his powers and the memory of his mother, of what happened to her because of her zowa powers. And right before he decides to consciously use his powers to make that impossible shot, finally owning who he is, he hears his mother's voice ("everybody can shoot, but not everybody can aim") and realizes that his powers have been a blessing at least as much as a curse.

I mean I'm not seeing this as an inspirational story (lmao) but I do feel it's strangely validating because, when you've gone through something traumatic, a lot of people feel uncomfortable about it (because it shows them stuff about the world or themselves they would rather ignore) and would rather forget about it, and healing is sometimes presented as amnesia, but actually, it's more about integrating what happened to your sense of self. And there is a lot of power in remembering, confronting/acknowledging what happened, that it changed you- but you don't have to be trapped by it forever, even if you had to do terrible things to survive, and that's like !!!! Yes !! And the humanizing role of bonds with people who understand what you've been through. The Crows represent parts of their society that they would rather keep hidden, in a sense, (interesting that they find a safe place in a cemetery where nobody else would go!) - so it's just very cathartic to see them thrive. I love how this book deals with these themes, honestly.

#six of crows #grishaverse #six of crows meta

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elenalucilfer · 3 years

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love ill-fated

on the significance of Kaworu and Shinji. spoilers!

Despair and self-hatred, the defining feelings of Shinji during such a desolate time. Over and over, he kept losing, he kept being lied to, and he was alone, so painfully alone, drowning in the remberance of what he’s done. But it must be proper that he finds hope again in quite literally, a sea of change. Sitting there, aglow with the sunset, an angel to come save him, Kaworu.

Kaworu was fascinated by Shinji, he saw something in him that was beautiful, that he wanted to know more about, even if they met when Shinji was at his lowest. Bombarded with this attention, this pure unadulterated love, Shinji is flurried with emotions. With every other person in his life he had expectations for them that they never met, and so he was constantly dissapointed and at a certain point gave up on the idea of a life without loneliness. But now, he’s greeted by a stranger, a stranger who wants him without anything in return. Never in his life had Shinji felt so loved, and so his instant reaction is to return that love, an exchange which is so foreign to him.

And just as Shinji was changed by Kaworu, Kaworu was changed by Shinji. Like all angels, Kaworu was created resenting Lilin (humans, those born from Lilith) and more importantly as the 17th angel, it was his role to truly end humanity. However, Kaworu was blessed to be different from the other angels, something I’d like to look into in another post, in the sense that he had the power to know and feel. He was not limited to the powers of just the Fruit of Life, he like Rei, had access to both Lilith and Adam. With this perspective and power, Shinji gave him a view of humanity Kaworu had never seen before. He looked at Shinji, someone he saw was capable of incredible things but was still bridled with the pain of the past, which hindered him from achieving all that he was capable of. How captivating that the exact thing which made humans so powerful, their minds, was the same thing that dutifully held them back. And so, seeing such a beautiful creature as Shinji in front of him riddled with heartache and loneliness, he felt sympathy for him, perhaps even empathy, and decided his own purpose.

This natural love between the two was a necessary acknowledgement between the angels and humans of each other’s existence. Kaworu loving Shinji was symbolic of all angels accepting humanity in all of its flaws and therefore accepting their fate; Kaworu was the catalyst of this acceptance and death of the angels. As the last of the angels he was meant to end humanity, but he recognized that he was not worthy of this decision and left it in Shinji’s hands, someone so dreadfully human. As “saviour” of humanity, which could only be saved with the death of the angels, Shinji had to love and then kill Kaworu BECAUSE he is human and our lives are full of sacrifice and self-destruction. Shinji’s love for Kaworu was meant to show the pain of sacrifice that can push one to despair and resentment of those they save and themselves, which is elaborated on through instrumentality.

While doomed from the beginning, their relationship was crucial to the long awaited Third Impact. But more than that they gave each other meaning and a purpose; because of Shinji, Kaworu realized he was born to forgive humans and because of Kaworu, Shinji realized he was worthy and loved in spite of his shortcomings. Love can be full of struggle and sadness but this difficult reality doesn’t take away from the significance giving and recieving love (experiencing realtionship) has on our lives, no matter how it ends.

definitely going to edit this later bc im writing at midnight again *bites lip* also i want to make it longer bc they were NOT JUST FRIENDS

#neon genesis evangelion #evangelion #evangelion analysis #evangelion anime #Kaworu Nagisa #Shinji Ikari #kawoshin #instrumentality #third impact #angels and humans

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sepublic · 4 years

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Makuta and Rahi

I really have to speculate about the Makutas’ relationship with Rahi as a whole. It’s never quite defined within canon the purpose of Rahi’s existence in the Matoran Universe, did the Makuta ever consider this, and did it bother them? While Mata Nui created various sapient races with no-doubt clear-cut purposes as part of a larger machine… Did the Makuta ever feel insecurity over the seemingly pointless addition of the Rahi? Did they ever feel extraneous alongside their own creations?

Especially since I can see a LOT of thought, passion, and creativity going into a lot of Rahi species and their designs, behaviors, the way they interact with one another… There’s a delicate thing that needs to be considered when designing an ecosystem, and that’s Balance. I have to wonder if that’s a concept that the Brotherhood of Makuta held dear to their hearts, especially given how inextricably tied it is to their creations.

Thinking on it, I can better understand why the Makuta saw taking over the universe as just a mere extension of their pre-existing duties. Their ordained purpose in life had already been to create species who have specific niches, roles, and purposes to play… Mata Nui’s handling of sapient species was no different, right? You had Makuta actively working to improve upon pre-existing creations, so improving upon a fractured universe by uniting it just makes sense! The line is further blurred when one considers the presence of sapient rahi… And in that scenario, I guess it’s not too surprising that the Makuta saw themselves as not all that different from Mata Nui, in the end- Maybe even better.

The creation of ecosystems also means establishing a cycle of life, which often means designing species with the intended purpose to be devoured and/or killed by other Rahi creations. That sort of lifestyle and mentality, raising and designing entire species for a specific purpose, one they both live and diefor… It can really create a God complex amongst some Makuta. They have literal divine justification in creating a ‘greater system’ where the lives of countless Rahi are meant to be sacrificed and hunted down, all to maintain a cycle of life, a specific balance.

And considering their roles, the Makuta no doubt got used to the idea of culling populations in order to maintain an order and ‘balance’ within ecosystems. And with the line between Rahi and sapient species blurring… I can see, more and more, how the Makuta became so nonchalant to the idea of killing others for a ‘greater purpose’, and how this casual attitude just led to the Brotherhood becoming more and more desensitized- Until we have people like Icarax or Gorast, who outright revel in carnage. They were encouraged from creation to create species that were meant to die, or species that were meant to kill- Oftentimes both. And as one takes pride in their ability to fulfill this role, some end up taking pride in their creations’ ability to kill, and/or die…

I’d even argue the Makuta are the Matoran Universe equivalent to the Great Beings, as amoral scientists who saw ruling the world as just a natural extension of their pre-existing duties, and themselves as the best candidates for the job. After all, the Archives Massacre taught them that it was necessary to kill a few, in order to save the rest… Aside from Teridax having always been genuinely terrible, I can see why his role as a Zoologist framed the way he perceived the situation. It wouldn’t have been much different to the nonchalance that comes from killing off an invasive species in droves, all to maintain an ecosystem- Or introducing predators whose sole purpose is to kill those creatures.

I can also see this desensitization towards individual plights and smaller issues, all for the greater good, really getting to the Makuta. As they spread out following the Matoran Civil War, a lot of Makuta likely had a policy of just letting smaller incidents, chaos, and injustices occur without interference- So long as they didn’t interfere with the grand scheme of things. It’d be like turning a blind eye to a helpless prey being pursued by a hungry pack of predators- Sure, you feel sorry for that prey. But in the end, this is just nature, it’s just how it is… And those predators have to eat, man. It’s like how Zoologists, out in the wild, generally don’t interfere with the stuff that goes on around them, unless this is something threatening an entire ecosystem or species. I can see some Makuta coping with their roles by deciding that it’s downright immature to be caught up in the life of a single Rahi, learning not to be so attached to creatures that just come and go, living and dying, etc.

I can see how their roles as ecosystem overseers led to the Makuta being discouraged from getting personally involved, nor closely attached to the actual subjects they were working with- And how this practice translated towards their oversight of the Matoran Universe, letting the Toa do the heavy-lifting of protecting society. I can see how they became resentful of the Toa, who were blessed to be but mere heroes and protectors, and received adulation for this; While the Makuta felt unappreciated as beings who had to make difficult choices for the greater good, and often sacrifice the lives of others for this purpose.

No doubt, many coped by seeing the callous reality of their duties as being noble in its own sense, as is the idea of making the difficult call to kill others for the sake of a larger world. There must’ve been jealousy amongst the Makuta towards the Toa- Who were revered for fulfilling their roles, only for the Makuta to be vilified for doing the same. Don’t blame THEM for their detached manner of overseeing the universe, the Makuta were just doing what the Great Spirit told of them! And that could lead to resentment towards Mata Nui, for even making the Makuta to be like this…

And when the League of Six Kingdoms fell, following the disappearance of the Barraki? It’s no wonder the Brotherhood of Makuta took over, they applied that same principle of enforcing a balance and functioning system, an interconnected web of interactions, and applied it on a grander yet similar scale- This time to the countless civilizations and sapient species of the Matoran Universe. Given how apathetic Mata Nui was towards maintaining the Matoran Universe, I can see how the Makuta thought themselves as better rulers.

As Zoologists, they’d be intimately aware of the process of observing populations in their natural habitat, keeping an eye on them, herding them towards a desired path with a guiding hand. The Brotherhood probably saw itself as paying more attention to the goings-on of the Matoran Universe than the Great Spirit, and they were probably right! And it really does seem like common sense, that people who actually know more about the world they’re governing and more closely involved with it, should actually be running it VS some detached, apathetic Great Spirit that can’t even notice the formation of a League or Toa Empire in his own body, so long as it’s not directly affecting him.

When you’re designing ecosystems, you have to take everything into account- So the Makuta likely saw themselves as more attentive, responsible, and even compassionate towards the Matoran Universe inhabitants, than their own god. Not to mention the idea of constantly manipulating the lives of being they see as lesser, more primitive, and not having the same rights nor intelligence as them… I can see some Makuta mistakenly dismissing the sapient species of the Matoran Universe as no different. Or at least, that same detached, patronizing attitude of treating others without regard to what THEY have to say, because they’re too dumb to consider the bigger picture… I can see how it was applied to beings like the Matoran.

I can see why the Makuta saw the sapient species of their world, and ‘dumb animals’ as not being all that different… And on the flip-side, this naturally meant that just as Rahi were lesser beings to them, so were the other sapient species in the Matoran Universe. And it just led to the Makuta distancing themselves, creating that sense of detachment and superiority, that mentality that the ends justified the means… Being encouraged to create others with the purpose to kill and/or die, taking pride in one’s ability to create something that causes death, or satisfaction at the demise of something else…

Not to mention, the diversity of Rahi may have exceeded that of sapient species, which not only influenced the Makutas’ fascination with shapeshifting and their creativity, but likely made them see themselves as being more clever and imaginative creators than Mata Nui himself. Working closely with the Great Spirit also made him seem much less distant to the Makuta, much more approachable… And thus so much more flawed and vulnerable. Especially if they knew exactly how a jeopardized system could easily throw Mata Nui’s health out of balance, how he was outright dependent on the lives of his ‘lesser beings’ and creations, while the Makuta lacked such a weakness and only continued to transcend, evolving past physical bodies.

The Makuta, most of them, were terrible people. That much is not up for debate, and most of them really DID choose their own horrific paths. People like Gorast and Icarax enjoyed carnage far too much, while Teridax was just awful to an unprecedented degree. But it makes me consider Krika’s sadness, how he sees the Makuta as trapped to their fate, like their decisions to become conquerers and usurpers was merely inevitable… Because in the end, they were made for that. They were made to be Zoologists, and thus predisposed to traits that would better enable their purpose.

Just as the role of the Toa made them predisposed to being heroic and beloved by others… One could argue that the Makuta were similarly fated in a sense, albeit doomed. They had a completely different purpose than the Toa, and that meant a different mentality, way of life, and handling of others… The Makuta weren’t made to necessarily care for others, and to even disregard the lives of some for a ‘greater good’, for a balance. They were placed in an environment and position that both encouraged and required the attitudes that led to their corruption, so I can see why Krika felt his fate as a traitor to the Great Spirit was inevitable- Because one can’t escape their reason for existence, nor can they escape Destiny. And, it’s funny that Krika becomes so resigned to the idea of being unable to escape one’s inherent nature… Because one can argue that the Makuta DID rise above that, alongside their intended purpose. They weren’t meant to take over the Matoran Universe as conquerers, yet they chose to act contrary to both the plans of the Great Spirit and Great Beings.

And while Krika saw this lifestyle as a natural extension of their creators’ intended roles for them… There’s still the realization that they DID defy the plans of their makers, to an extent. To the point where they could outright rebel against them- Again, as a result of attitudes implanted by their creators, for the purpose of carrying out their assigned duties. But still… It’s not entirely hopeless, and that’s Krika’s downfall- He just sort of gave up. He was too much of a coward, too resigned, and too apathetic to make a difference. Krika saw one’s environment as dictating a person’s existence and identity, but I can see why- After all, with regards to the idea of evolution and adaptations, for many animals their environment literallyshapes what they are!

And just as environments can be created by the Great Beings, so too can Rahi be made by the Makuta, with regards to how they’ll function in said environments. Krika lived by the idea that beings are dictated entirely by the circumstances they were made in… If his own Rahi could never rise above their environmental circumstances, then could Krika? Especially since he, too, is a creation of a higher being? Overall, I can see how Krika became so defeatist and cynical; At least until the last second, but by then it was too late. To Krika, beings’ lives are dictated by an unchangeable environment/situation, and the only way to survive is to adapt and conform to that environment, to live by what it dictates- There is no changing one’s situation, you are entirely subject to its whim and power. Perhaps it’s no wonder Krika became so disillusioned.

#bionicle #makuta #brotherhood of makuta #rahi #krika #mata nui #speculation #meta

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doomedandstoned · 3 years

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Meeting Bomg, Doom-Drone Legends from Ukraine

~Interview by Billy Goate~

Doomed & Stoned continues our week of epic interviews with a long overdue conversation with the great Ukraine doom-drone band BOMG, who have been desamating stages and blowing out amps since 2010. During that time, Nikolay Temchenko (guitar), Yuriy Temchenko (bass), and Anton Khomenko (drums) have put out two mammoth LPs, an EP, and a split.

I first got turned on to BOMG's sound with the record 'Polynseed' (2013), which released the year that Doomed & Stoned was founded. I recommend starting there if this is your first exposure to the mighty trio from Kyiv.

Bomg have been gradually drifting in the direction of full-on drone metal, executed in their own authentic and compelling way, as we're about to discover as we drill into 'Peregrination' (2020) -- which we reviewed last year and Robustfellow has recently reissued.

Give ear...

You state that BOMG means “vagabond” on your Bandcamp page. Can you elaborate on how the name ties in with the band’s history and core identity?

It’s an abbreviation literally meaning “with no particular place of living”. Funny thing is that its’ meaning is degraded in common use (like “bum”), but when it was incepted (60s – 70s in USSR) those who were stigmatized by it were better off going elsewhere than being part of the regime, taking it as a positive. This became somewhat of a short-lived movement even. We think that despite being prone to misunderstanding in every way, it fits the overall vibe. Blessing and a curse. But frankly, the name is a secondary thing at best.

How would you describe your distinctive sound, to someone who has never encountered it before?

Basically, trying to elaborate and add to “Black Sabbath spaghettified” idea. We try to squeeze out any possible amount of low frequency, volume, distortion and effect saturation to the instruments, not necessarily designed for it. As of similarities and influences, it’s 60s-70s heavy psych, proto-metal and proto-punk, 80s - 90s continuation of it (doom metal, stoner/desert rock, sludge, drone doom), besides that – dub, ambient, prog rock, experimental music, field recordings and whatnot.

Peregrination by Bomg

Your new album 'Peregrination' is an explosive bombshell, massive in every respect. When was the concept for the album born?

The first track was almost ready in 2011, we played it at our first show. As of concept, it started to take shape somewhere in 2013-2014, most of the lyrics were written back then. Then it took years to “grow.” First, we tried to make it so each track would fit one side of LP, but it seemed kinda compressed and landed too quick. Then we decided not to confine it to any time limit but each track landed itself around 40 minutes, so we made sure it evens out like this in final recording.

Tell us about the recording process involved. We’re very curious about instruments, gear, amps, and the general studio environment in which it originated.

Each whole track was recorded live (took roughly four weeks for four tracks), then layered with two additional guitars. Synths, field recordings, vocals were added afterward.

Gear: we used two Tank amps (Orange/Matamp clones) made from old soviet broadcast amplifiers and Tesla Disco 240 for guitar and bass (wish our Sunn concert bass was alive at that point, but it just burns transistors when turned on – we couldn’t find an exact schematic for it, even photos of the exact amp on the web, seems like it’s from some transition period).

The drums are '70s Rogers 13”, 16” toms and 24” steel shell bass drum from '50s-'70s (mass-produced for political celebrations, weddings and funerals), coupled with Meinl hi-hats, Paiste Rude China and Zildjian Mega Bell.

Guitars used were early '00s Gibson SG Standard, '72 Musima Eterna Deluxe and ’69 Musima Record; and ‘70 Cremona Violin bass.

Pedals: Poltava fuzz-wah, Noname “flanger” that is actually phaser for bass; Tesla Vrable fuzz-wah (the seller told us that his uncle was under KGB investigation for just having it), Noname dist (most likely a ProCo Rat clone), Vox wah, Boss BF-2, Lel’ parametric EQ, Lel’ digital delay, Boss dynamic wah, Roland Space Echo for guitar.

Recording equipment: Two '70s Oktava ML-19 for overheads, '50s-'60s Oktava ML15 and ML16 for room and various dynamic and condenser mics for everything else into Pro Tools, then later in mixing/mastering stage partly routed through mixer and cassette deck using beaten up cassette for analog saturation and vibrato.

Long story short, we tried to use most of the stuff we got in our studio, and at this point, it’s hard to remember every detail of the process. Referring to the environment, it is compiled of numerous weird gadgets which got to us throughout years, most of which were collecting dust somewhere for decades, and have a history (an entire topic by itself) we’re always asking for. And when used, they tell a story which then leaves a mark in recordings for sure. That was a hell of a fascinating process.

I noticed you had lyrics for each song on 'Peregrination,' but the singing doesn't seem discernable. Are there indeed vocals and, if so, how can I hear them?

Yes, there are vocals. They appear on low volume as reverberated and somewhat oscillated notes, more like presence; on high volume, you can hear words with 1-5 kHz correctly dialed in (on most audio equipment these frequencies tend to be excited, so lowering EQ at this range brings clarity), it appears as a whisper in a loud, saturated mix. Also, we added subtitles on YouTube, so you can know for sure where to find vocals. The point was to make them recognizable only with intent.

Talk about the album art. It seems there is hidden symbolism there, is that true?

It’s some sort of a window that leads to four areas, which are the visualized soundscapes to each track. There were no particular symbols, but the thing is that they fill in the picture as it is set - like a hallucination, which is often a well of meaning where symbols change and multiply interpretations, at the same time being just momentary blobs of form.

The process of making this album cover involved many iterations of drawing, running through GAN networks, editing the result to achieve the effect of a captured hallucination, close to the exact one. When hardwiring symbols directly into it, they would be eaten up by hallucinating AI. So by randomly forming a resemblance of shapes, things started popping out where they fit the most contextually - weird stuff. It’s a common thing in art to throw “open for interpretation” on everything, but this one might be.

What is the concept behind each "hobo" symbol and track on 'Peregrination'?

So, the first one means being quiet and alert, seeing what’s going on. The second one is a sign of a trolley – hopping from one soundscape to another, time travel. The third one – safe camp; it may be confusing when applied to the lyrics, but the position that is stated there facing the object is some sort of a “safe camp”, ground to stand on. The fourth one means “don’t give up”, even if applied in both meanings of this phrase to track. But the symbol references may lack context without diving into tracks.

I'm sure our readers would be most happy if you were to illuminate the meaning of each of the songs on your new album.

Well, it’s like trying to create a soundtrack to some introductory ontological theories (pretty blank, sterile stuff), realizing their intensity. Here uneven-numbered tracks touch on mind ontology, even-numbered - on reality ontology. Not diving into details too much, let them hang there.

I. Electron

Peregrination by Bomg

it's no light of star it's a light of mind walking thru a dream electron shamanism

"Electron" is covering the theme of mythical perception akin to humans and the discovery that put a dent into these beliefs. Variation on a Tunguska story, mythos surrounding Tesla, how people mythologize all around.

II. Perpetuum

Peregrination by Bomg

Across desolations Caravans astray Sand covered roads Forget old ways

"Perpetuum" goes more into sci-fi territory: endless cycles of dead and born-again civilizations, the Great Filter caused by cosmic events or beings themselves, and how we just might unknowingly observe such things staring at the sky.

III. Paradigm

Peregrination by Bomg

Giant web built and set in lines It works when mind reflects Leaving us with all the fears Or letting them disappear

"Paradigm" is based around the tendency of the mind to confine itself into some set of ideas, building a higher fence while thinking it broadens the space. Thinking of one thing while it is the opposite, fear of the structure collapsing while an event like this would alleviate any sort of fear. But breaking a paradigm usually leads straight to the next one, to which the same attributes apply. And keeping this notion brings a safe distance to it.

IV. Emanation

Peregrination by Bomg

Now the opportunity is To see the universe spinning Emit structures boundless Round its' endless borders It's the very first the very last small moment In periods of endless time When the structure merge infinite To manifest as something

"Emanation" goes somewhat contrary to the second one - a reality that may be started at some point, complicates itself, and never is truly repetitive. Also thoughts on subjective existence and the point of it, maybe being an instrument of the Universe to explain it to itself. Speculation on whether or not consciousness flows from one state to another, as energy does, returning to its inception or scattering across until equilibrium, or even said results being the same thing. And the uncertainty of these things that are left to be answered while we as beings, it seems, are just left to fade away.

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#D&S Interviews #BOMG #Kyiv #Ukraine #doom #metal #doom metal #drone #sludge #atmospheric doom #Robustfellow #Doomed and Stoned

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classpect-crew · 4 years

Text

Aspects and Narrative Structure

What exactly are Aspects, anyways? Well, in the comic itself, Aspects are forces of the universe that influence and are influenced by the “Heroes” present in the story. But what does this mean on a broader scale? We all have a pretty good idea of what each Aspect represents in canon, but what if that’s not the whole story?

Before we begin, I’d like to direct you to an excellent video by @revolutionaryduelist (optimistic Duelist on YouTube) that will prime you for what I’m about to discuss. I highly recommend checking out their channel, as it’s extremely informative and fun to watch!

So, now that you’ve no doubt enjoyed the video I’ve linked, let’s get into what each Aspect represents in terms of a broader narrative. One of the big narrative themes of Homestuck is that the story is essentially a stage performance, or an “interactive play,” which we see throughout the comic, from the “Acts” and “Intermissions” to the curtains opening and closing on each Act. There are plenty of times where the “fourth wall” is completely shattered, and the layers between the cast and the audience start to blend together. With this in mind, it’s not difficult to reason that each Aspect not only represents a certain universal force in the comic’s universe, but also represents an aspect of narrative structure. I’ll begin with the definitions shown in optimistic Duelist’s video, and then expand upon them from my own perspective.

Let’s start with some easy ones: Space and Time. Space and Time represent the Setting and Pacing of a story. In our stage play metaphor, we can expand this further. Space is represented by the scenery that tells us where the characters are, but it also represents the physical space that the actors take up. Different prop placement, lighting, and scenery can make the stage feel bigger or smaller to fit the needs of the scene, and a change in these things will naturally translate to us as a scene change. Time, on the other hand, is represented by the progression of the story through actions, dialogue, the opening and closing of curtains, and even the music that accompanies each scene and plays continuously during intermissions. In a musical, this is even more obvious, as each song tells a distinct part of the story and opens up ideas about character motivations, illustrates choices, and so on—though this aspect of Time is merely the lens through which these things are viewed, since choices/motivations/etc. are truly representative of other Aspects entirely. As in real life, these two Aspects intermingle considerably, creating “spacetime” as the spatial and temporal backdrop of all the events we witness as audience members, the framework that allows both depth and progression to occur in the narrative and sets the foundation of the stage itself.

Light and Void represent Relevance and Irrelevance. The difference between the cast and crew on stage is easy to tell because the spotlight will always be on a character, not on a member of the crew, unless ironically referencing a crew member (thus breaking the illusion) is a part of the performance itself. Those who are illuminated hold the attention of the audience, and the light allows us to see their facial expressions, their clothing, their movements, etc. and understand the character better through these things. A character who is self-assured may wear a smug grin, holding themselves upright with confidence. A character who is poor might wear old, ragged clothing. Light is all about which characters are relevant, and it also allows the audience to discern information about the characters and about the larger world within the play itself. On the other hand, Void is represented by the unlit areas of the stage, the shadows behind props and characters, and even the crew itself. The ties between Void and the stage crew can be illustrated through bunraku, also known as ningyō jōruri, a traditional Japanese puppet theatre with a long and fascinating history. Puppeteers are clothed in black robes, often hooded, and blend into the black backdrop in order to direct attention onto the puppets themselves and away from their operators. Stage crews in American theatre will often wear dark clothing for the same reason, moving props and scenery as necessary without drawing attention away from the story itself. Although they’re absolutely vital to the execution of the play itself, the crew is in most cases irrelevant to the play’s narrative, thus they work in the shadows to place pieces where they need to be, going unnoticed by the audience.

Life and Doom represent Agency and Conflict. As every good storyteller knows, both of these are vital to the lifeblood of a story, as characters who have no agency are simply puppets, empty vessels with no will of their own, and a story with no conflict doesn’t go anywhere or challenge the characters in any way. In our stage metaphor, Life is the appearance of each character’s free will. Even though we recognize that a script is in place, and the actors are simply working within the framework of scripted interactions, they bring the characters to life through their performances and give the illusion that the world presented onstage is a vibrant one. A good actor can draw an audience into the story by fully embodying the character in question, stepping into the role and allowing us to relate to them, cheering on the heroes and rallying against the villains as the story progresses. We begin to forget that the world we’re presented is mere fiction, and we come out of the experience feeling much different than when we entered. This is what makes a good stage play so compelling, as we watch these characters grow and change based on what they endure and how the world reacts to their actions. In the same vein, Doom is the conflicts, obstacles, and limits placed in the way of the characters to challenge them and help them to grow. In the case of a tragedy, this can also be the end result, whether through a character failing to achieve their goals, a villain succeeding in their heinous plot, or even the death of a protagonist, which removes their agency in the story itself. No real person becomes stronger without facing hardship, and the same is true in fiction. What sort of character would Hamlet be if he wasn’t challenged to find a way to cope with the death of his father, or the knowledge that his uncle was the one who killed him? These conflicts enrich the stories we’re told and provide roadblocks on the road of success, testing the limits of each character’s willpower and strengthening their resolve, or even forcing them to reconsider their goals entirely. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, and these necessary hardships fill out the story itself, ensuring that something is learned through the experience through delayed—or, in some cases, entirely absent—gratification.

Breath and Blood represent Plot Development and Character Dynamics. As the Aspect of movement and change, Breath translates into our metaphor quite nicely, ensuring that the story is as dynamic as the characters themselves. It’s the sequence of events that takes us from exposition to resolution—in essence, it’s pretty much the story itself, which is why John is able to do what he does, escaping from the narrative of Homestuck entirely in order to affect things from the outside. The plot is the engine that drives the story—the twists and turns that the narrative takes as difference pieces take their turns on the board. Character motivations are explored, actions are taken, unexpected events take place, and lessons are learned. All of this happens within the plot, and it’s a very external force, as opposed to what we’ll explore in a moment with Blood, which hones in on characters specifically, rather than the whole narrative. Breath is also represented by change, and any change in motivations, scenery, tone, and even tempo can be attributed to Breath in addition to the Aspects normally represented by those things. Blood, however, is a matter of interpersonal relations between characters in a story: their feelings about—and for—each other, the various factions within a story, and the natural associations one can make, such as “protagonists/antagonists, nobility/commoners, obedient civilians/ruthless scoundrels, and so on. Part of what makes characters so interesting is their dynamics with other characters. For example, on her own, Elphaba Thropp from Wicked is a very interesting character. Blessed with innate magical skills, but cursed with green skin, she is ostracized by many and reluctantly admired by some, and this makes her interactions with others very dynamic. Her insistence on bringing much-needed attention to the oppression of Animals in Oz, social consequences be damned, comes in direct conflict with a character like Galinda Upland, who strives to maintain her place in the social hierarchy, even if that means masking her true feelings on controversial subjects to paint herself favorably in the eyes of others. As the story progresses, the two find that they have much more in common than they could’ve guessed, and they begin fighting for the same cause, shifting from bitter enemies to best friends through the course of a few excellent musical numbers. This shift in their dynamic is vital to the story, yet this is merely one of many such dynamics.

Let’s move on to two Aspects that are a bit more abstract in our narrative format. Hope and Rage represent Coherence and Contrivance. These words may sound quite different from what we’re used to from these Aspects but hear me out, because there’s a method to my madness. A story’s coherence is how well it can be understood, and furthermore, how well it can be related to by an audience. It also represents the enthusiasm with which an invested audience will respond to the narrative taking place. In our stage play metaphor, this is part of what drives us to immerse ourselves in the story. It’s the excitement we feel when our favorite character completes their goal as set up in the exposition, or the fear we experience when an adversary comes close to unraveling it all. It’s the ability to escape from our own lives and enter the world presented onstage, and a big part of why walking out of a great performance can feel like we’re waking up from an intense lucid dream. It’s the magic of excellent storytelling. Hope is what drives us to overlook mistakes, either in the narrative itself or in the performance, and allows us to enjoy it as a whole. On the other hand, Rage’s contrivance delights in tearing open plot holes, exposing the divide between performers and the audience, and dispelling the illusion that the world on stage is in any way “real.” It’s the heckler at a comedy show, or the critics in the nosebleed seats. It’s the breaking of the fourth wall that occurs when a character in the story directly addresses the audience, or begins to critique the narrative itself. While it can certainly seem like a negative force, this Aspect is what keeps us firmly grounded in reality, pulling us out of “la la land” when the show is over and it’s time to return to our lives. It marks an end to the magic, a disbelief in the “miracles,” and the voice of reason.

Finally, our last two Aspects, Heart and Mind, represent Inner Character and Outer Character. This is fairly obvious, given what we already know from canon, and it translates fairly literally in our metaphor. Heart is represented by a character’s “true self,” or what remains the same in every performance of the play. It’s what makes each character recognizable, no matter how the script, costumes, set design, etc. have been adapted. Peter Pan, for example, is always presented as childlike and carefree, bold in his actions and protective of those he loves. He can also be incredibly naive and immature, which humanizes him and allows room for growth. Regardless of which actor might play him, or whether the story is adapted to a sci-fi setting, or tells the tale of a much older Peter, or is even presented from the perspective of an entirely different culture, these character traits and motivations will always be the same. They’re what make him the “Peter Pan” we all know and love. The “true self” involves every trait that is essential to a character. If these traits were changed in some way, they would cease to be the same character, much like adding or removing a proton from an atom would change its element entirely. On the contrary, Mind is represented by a character’s “projected self,” or how they present themselves in the company of others. For some characters, their “true self” always shines through, and they rarely act in ways that aren’t in accordance with their deeply-held values. For others, such as Billy Flynn from Chicago, the creation and maintenance of a constructed, outward “self” is vital to their survival and prosperity, and sometimes deception is the name of the game. Billy, an incredibly successful defense lawyer, comes across in his musical number as a caring, compassionate man who couldn’t care less about money and values “love” more than anything else. This is extremely ironic, however, as the audience is soon presented with a very different view of Billy: as a stern, ambitious man who’s very concerned with money, but also loves the challenge of winning cases for clients on death row. As his “true self” is revealed, his choices and motivations begin to make sense to the audience, and we gain a deeper understanding of the man behind the mask, so to speak.

Each Aspect plays a vital role in the narrative structure of any story—or performance, in this case—and perhaps we can use these interpretations to further understand what our own Aspect connections are. After all, all the world’s a stage, right?

#classpect analysis #classpect #homestuck #classpects #homestuck analysis #optimisticDuelist #revolutionaryduelist #holy shit this took like two hours to write. i need to sleep now g’night

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dearlazerbunny · 4 years

Text

Fires Burning

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: Jotun!Loki; G, no warnings apply

Words: 1200

Summary: Written for 1V1 on Ao3, who won a little contest I made for Lie to Me. Featuring Jotun!Loki, complete with horns.

You’re dragged before the king of Joutunheim, amongst ice and snow and inexplicably, fire.

“What. The. Fuck.”

You can barely get out your curses between viciously chattering teeth, and though you keep using what little strength you have left to twist and tug, the- things, dragging you along with them have an iron grip around your wrists. You’ve stopped kicking in favor of letting your feet be dead weight, but they just haul you through mounds of wet white snow like you weigh nothing. Even worse, the cold is slowly sinking into your bones, turning your fingers blue and lips numb. Everything you can see- the ground, the landscape, even the flurries falling from the sky- is ice and snow. It’s a winter wonderland, except it has teeth sharper than it’s razor-thin wind and it’s coming for your throat.

That is, if these monsters don’t break it first.

Monsters? Giants? You don’t know what to call them- these creatures that kidnapped you, at least twice your height and with pale skin covered in some sort of swirling runes that seem to shift in the light. The temperature doesn’t seem to bother them a bit. They wear fur- though not from any type of animal you’ve ever seen- but in configurations of ragged-cut skirts and thin vests that would offer little protection from the weather.

Unfortunately they haven’t offered you any of those furs, and so as they drag you to your impending doom your sweatshirt gets crystallized with snowflakes and your jeans rip open and crust to your legs. By the time you get to a massive set of double doors carved of pale ice and petrified wood, you’re afraid you’ll die of hypothermia before the giants have their turn.

“Quiet.” The one on the left of you grunts out the order in a gruff voice, peeved by your outburst. “Pesky little thing.”

“I swear to god-” he yanks on you harder, dragging you down a grand hallway. “I don’t know what you want with me but if you’ll just-”

Your words die in your throat. The end of the corridor gives way to some sort of throne room filled with even more creatures like your captors, gathered around a dias at the far end. The walls are carved with a language, maybe, one you can’t recognize, and there are actually fires dancing in alcoves inlaid in the walls and in the floor. You can feel the heat on your face- it burns, causing a few tears to streak down your cheeks- but none of the surrounding area seems to melt. There’s a sense of magic about the place, something ancient and strange, but you’re more preoccupied with both the relief of warmth and also the man staring at you from the far end of the room.

Because he is a man- at least, moreso than any of the other creatures you see. He’s tall, but only for a human, and his skin is more porcelain rather than stark white. Blue runes highlight sharp cheekbones and glittering, curious green eyes; he’s lither than the hulks keeping you captive, but you have a feeling he’s just as- or even more- dangerous.

You’re pulled through the room and deposited at his feet- without anything supporting you, your legs slack and you barely catch yourself before falling flat on your face. All is quiet except for the roaring flames. They cast shadows that stretch through the hall and fill your ears with strange whispers.

“What have you brought me?” The man- some sort of king, based on the wreath of wood and crystals circling his head and set amongst small, lethal looking horns peeking though his ink black hair. He’s beautiful, in some ethereal, fantastical way- you can’t look away. It’s a fever dream come to life right in front of you, fearsome appearance juxtaposed by a honey-smooth voice.

He notices you looking, and the corner of his lips tilt into a smirk. You force your gaze elsewhere.

“We found her in the wastelands, Lord. A strange creature.” You huff at that- you’re the strange one?- and receive a kick to the ribs for your trouble. “We thought it might make a suitable sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” You find your voice unexpectedly, even if it’s an octave higher than normal. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh,” the other giant says belatedly. “It talks, too.”

“I can see that.” The Lord’s tone is amused. He descends the steps from his throne and lowers himself so he can tuck a hand under your chin and force it upwards to meet his face. His fingers are soft, but cold. “A mortal. Fascinating.”

You want to spit in his face- or maybe slap him- but his gaze, those eyes, keep you glued to where you are.

“Is it acceptable, my King?”

“Mmm.” He circles you slowly, sizing you up. “You might have prevented her from freezing to death. She’s hardly useful like that.”

“Our apologies, Lord.” A heavy fur is immediately draped around your shoulders, nearly knocking you flat. Wonderful. It is warm though, so you try to count your blessings and keep your mouth shut. For the moment.

They talk amongst themselves for a while longer, lapsing in and out of a guttural language you can’t make heads or tails of. The carvings on the wall remind you of something from old mythology, depicting gods and heroes and monsters. “What are you,” you murmur, entranced by the murals, not realizing you’ve spoken aloud.

“I am Loki.” His name is accompanied by a wolffish grin and a click of sharp teeth. “King of this realm. And what shall I call you, my pet?”

“My name is Y/N,” you say harshly, “and I’m no one’s pet.”

“So ornery.” Fingers whose touch are becoming rapidly familiar comb through your mussed hair. “How refreshing.”

“Get away from me,” you spit out, recoiling from his caress.

“Believe me, I have no wish to harm you.” His voice softens, and you almost believe him. Almost. “Ask a question- any question, and I shall answer truthfully. A sign of good will, as you call it.”

Where am I. What are you going to do with me. How do I get home. Can I have something to eat. Are you going to kill me. Will the frostbite kill me first. Why do I find you beautiful, when I should find you terrifying. “The fires. They- they’re burning, but the ice doesn’t melt. How-?”

King Loki laughs, but not derisively- it’s actually quite a pretty sound, low and smooth. You almost want to make him laugh again. “A little mortal wanders her way into the realm of Joutenheim, surrounded by foreign creatures and foreign names- and she wants to know how our fires burn?” He’s almost gleeful. “Oh, I think I quite like you, my dear.”

“Bite me.” You say it as viciously as you can, imagining you could snap his neck with the force of it.

Loki only smiles. It sends a shiver down your spine, with something like fear and curiosity and anticipation. “All in good time, love. All in good time.”

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki imagines #loki x reader #loki x you #reader insert #jotunheimen #jotun loki

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fortune-fool02 · 4 years

Text

Silent Voice

Robert. E. O Speedwagon x siren reader

Requested by: @pbpetrichor

Mermaid AU

Please enjoy.

Much like the stories told, sirens were capable of using their melodic voices to lure people to their doom, pulling them towards the ocean and allowing them to latch onto their prey, dragging them under the water’s surface and into the depths. Never to emerge again.

For many of her kind, they cherished this power. A weapon that no human was immune to, and even those who do turn and run from the ocean, the song remains embedded into their brains, the harmonious voice echoing in their heads, awakening a desire that clawed at them to go back and see them. It was a drug to them, a highly addictive, life-ruining drug that leads them to their sealed fate.

[Name], once upon a time, used this very power with pride. Until the day she met Speedwagon. He was unlike any human she had encountered before, and she doubted she would ever meet one like him again.

He had both caught and freed her from his fishing net. He had no reason to do so and yet he did. Before she had a chance to even open her mouth to inflict her influence onto him, he told her to go, to return to whence she came from. He was freeing her. Any other human would have strung her up, possibly even cut off her tail fin and display it as a trophy.

Not missing her chance, she dived back into the water’s security. However, she turned back and watched him from the water. Something about him caught her curiosity as humans rarely showed such generosity towards her kind. So, [Name] went back to him.

And from that moment on, the two shared a form of bond that neither of them believed was possible.

***

Speedwagon threw a glance over his shoulders as he made his way towards the harbour, making sure he was, in fact, alone. The bag of clothing thrown over his shoulder would be a little difficult to explain, especially since it was women’s clothing so that was why he was being cautious.

Once he made it to the little patch of land tucked under the large, wooden bridge, his eyes scanned the water for her. A smile lifted his lips when he saw her head poke from under the waves close to the patch of land. He set the bag down for her and turned his back. During his time with [Name], he had learned of her ability to shed her tail and become human -it shocked him at first, of course- but as a gentleman, he gave her the privacy she deserved.

Once she was dressed, [Name] tapped his shoulder and he turned to face her, a small smile on her lips. He outstretched his hand out for her and her hand slid into his perfectly, and the two turned and made their way back to Speedwagon’s house.

This strange friendship of theirs has only been present for just under a month and in that entire time, Speedwagon has never heard her voice. Whenever they would talk, she would sit there and speak through expressions or actions.

A head tilt meant she was confused. A smile meant she was happy. A nod was agreement. All the basic stuff, but he wanted to hear her speak.

It wasn’t long before they finally made it to his house. [Name] entered the same way she always did, by looking around the room with those beautiful [Eye colour] orbs of hers that glowed ever so dimly if you looked close enough. Even when nothing changed, she was always amazed by the little ornaments he had decorating the room.

“Nope, nothing new today, [Name].” he said, when he noticed her looking for anything new. He found that quite... cute in a way. He took his usual seat and watched her for a moment. She carried herself with such grace that she was unaware she had. A truly fascinating creature.

“[Name],” he spoke, catching the mermaid’s attention. “Why do you never speak to me?” He asked her.

[Name] glanced down at this, she knew that he was going to ask something like that at some point. She could only play mute for so long. The thing was she didn’t remain silent out of ignorance or anything like that. She remained silent to protect him. Speedwagon had become someone she bore an interest in, the only human who treats her like the intelligent creature she was and not like an animal.

The reason behind her mutism was because she was aware of the power her song had over humans, especially men. How it embedded itself inside of their heads like a sea urchin and polluted their thoughts with its haunting melody. She has witnessed it first-hand of what her song could do. There had been another man- before she met Speedwagon- who she sung to but did not kill straight away. The man came to he every night, telling her to sing to him and to bless him with her touch. She sung to him but never touched him for she saw no point in it. Though, one day, everything spiralled out of control.

He came to her, dragging what appeared to be a crying woman who begged him to stop. He grasped her tightly by the hair, pulling her around like a ragdoll. In a declaration of love and devotion, the man killed the woman in front of [Name], all because he wanted [Name] to love him. She refused him and the man proceeded to end his own life right there. [Name] thought nothing of it until now.

Her song made humans lose their sanity, driving them to do awful things to both themselves and those around them. And [Name] refused to let Speedwagon become a victim to that.

She rose a hand to her mouth and shook her head a little. Speedwagon sighed softly, “I know you can speak. When I first met you in that net, you were hissing, screeching and everythin’.” That was something she was quite surprised he would recall, then again, it was their first meeting.

He rose from his seat and approached her slowly, taking her hand into his and bringing his other hand to her cheek, gently caressing it. “Whatever you’re afraid of, you don’t have to be. I’m here for you.”

There was such a softness in his voice that [Name] couldn’t deny. It was warm, like his hand against her cheek. Was she willing to take the risk? What if her voice held the same power as her song? Will Speedwagon be able to resist the desires that would grow within him until he exploded? She didn’t want to lose him. But... what if...?

Nuzzling against his hand, [Name] closed her [Eye colour] orbs and let a small sigh slip her lips. It was now or never.

“I... didn’t want to hurt you.” Her voice was soft, quiet, as fear latched onto her. His hazel brown eyes widened slightly at the sound of her voice, in truth, he was slightly caught off guard by it. [Name] opened her eyes and gazed into his, searching for any signs of her power grasping onto him. Nothing. No clouded desire flooding his eyes nor twisting need. He was... fine.

“You could never hurt me, my dear.” The blonde man spoke, a gentleness in his voice that soothed her more than the sound of the waves ever could. Slowly, she leaned her head against his chest, feeling his arms hold her close. He was alright. Maybe... she did not need to fear her voice as much as she did?

#speedwagon #robert e o speedwagon #jojo bizarre adventure #speedwagon x reader #robert e o speedwagon x reader #jojo bizzare adventure x reader #jojo #jojo x reader #phantom blood #phantom blood x reader #jojo phantom blood #speedwagon jojo #mermaid au #mermaid reader #reader insert

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lava-pops · 4 years

Text

Various mine craft monsters and how I feel about them, in order of how long I ranted about them

I have strong opinions and time on my hands, and so I will subject you to the entire fucking essay. Please understand that in an unobserved, socially distant singleplayer state, and wielding god-like powers, some less palatable aspects of my personality have emerged. Rest assured the end credits told me I played the game well.

Slimes: I fucking love slimes. They don’t do anything particularly amazing but the fact that they exist delights me.

Phantoms: Beauty. Beau-ty. Fucking love these guys. All glowing like. Majestic. 10/10. Gorgeous night sky. Delight of the heights. Need 100x more of them.

Blazes: Love. The drama. The decadence. The burning ethereality. The alien geometry. The wicked Fortress. Fuck me up.

Zombies: I’ve accepted them. Sometimes you’re just going to get attacked by zombies. They used to be you. So you need to be more understanding. Mild stress and disgust mixed with grief and concern, but if there are more than one zombie, emotions are cancelled out by adrenaline and sheer bloodlust.

End Dragon: Fuckin sick!!!!!! What a beautiful creature. I just wish I could spawn a bunch of them, and baby dragons, and unleash them on the world. I’m still disturbed by how it eats Endermen. It could also eat them in a less bloodcurdling way, but I’m not complaining.

Ghasts: Morbid fascination. I find them really interesting. It’s interesting how huge they are and their odd little noises. Don’t judge me but I like to spawn them inside walls so I can hear them all screaming at once. It just sounds weird okay. I think I might do that with my sound up and see what my roommates think of it. Really makes you feel like you’re in Hell.

Wither: I don’t really mind the Wither at all, just because it helps me make places look authentically exploded. This would be a different story in Survival. I would probably shit myself at that doom sounding gong, then be so upset it literally ripped limbs from trees just to hurl pieces of itself at a pig until it was dead that I would quit the game and finally keep Minecraft uninstalled for more than 24 hours.

Creepers: I have cursed these aggressively many times and on my blog and really, I don’t hate them. Rather, I am in awe of them and the bottomless well of terror they have shown me I am capable of feeling in a split second. I’m in awe of the way they have demonstrated to me the brutality of nature. When I see one I hear the Metal Gear yeet sound, but there is no bloodlust here. I am but a prey animal who knows how to run. And sometimes I don’t know how. Sometimes... I just watch.

Vexes: Get it!!!!! Kill it!!!!!! *Fly swatter sounds* These horrible little mosquito bitches!!!!!! I love the wings and how it can phase through things, except without the murderous intent. During a sleep-deprived chaotic rampage, I was amazed to find that after all the mobs that had fought the Wither, this one was actually doing damage to it. How did I feel as I watched the Wither succumb to an eternally rising swarm of Vexes? I’m not really sure on that one. It was kind of like watching something die horribly on the nature channel.

Witches: I love them in a critical way. I totally vibe with them. I sometimes fantasize about living in a hut in a swamp alone with my ominous cat. However, my feelings were really hurt when they helped the Illagers attack my swamp village. It’s like, why would you hurt a Villager? Just why? If you have a functioning brain -- Zombies and Skeletons don’t have that -- how could you? On the one hand, I love how they use Minecraft First Aid on themselves, but it’s fucking stressful in a fight. It’s like, STOP DRINKING THAT STUFF!!!! I DON’T KNOW HOW HEALTHY YOU ARE!!!!! *knocks McDonalds cup out of your hands*

Drowned: Blessed. Listen. They’re so pretty and blue. One of the head motherfucker ones with the trident ruined everything, shoved me out of my boat just to fight, knocked my stuff over everywhere, hurt my cat and fucked my wife, and also I died and searched for my devastated livelihood in vain for three days, but I love that there are mini Poseidons everywhere. They’re basically mermaids to me. I don’t mind if they kill me a bit. I trust the ocean to be vaguely threatening to step into. And you know the guys with the little shells? Really. So pretty. They have everything... ancient little houses... magma... treasure.

Skeletons: Whereas Creepers activate my primal prey animal instincts, Skeletons just really offend me. I feel like every time they give me that shady squint and shoot their arrows because they won’t face a move I call Raw Mutton Persistence, they are saying, “Bitch.” They have faces that beg to be slapped. What kind of skeleton doesn’t grin? Be grateful for your bones. The fact that I am not galaxy-brained enough to have diamond bling and usually don’t last long enough to actually slap them leaves me with all sorts of simmering resentment that violently surfaces when I see them in Creative Mode. I think the most distinctive flash of indignation I have experienced at their hands, or rather, their shitty little bitch arrows, was when one followed me into the water and still tried to shoot me as their arrow went super slow in a pathetic downward arc. What is your fucking problem?!!!

Illagers: Malevolence. Vengeance. They are certainly fascinating, compelling, and realistic, but god damn I hate these guys. They can eat my entire ass. I made a blue wool sculpture Illager style on top of their Outpost in the shape of a dick and balls and made a waterfall pour out the tip of it, and then I zoomed out feeling both smug and bad about myself. In fact if there’s a war crime you can use against an Illager, I’ve done it in Creative Mode at 3am in a quarantine-enabled inner void, hoping I’m not going to hear about it in the afterlife. Have I always hated them? Perhaps. You must understand that back in the day, when they first went grunting pompously around my swamp, I had no idea what the fuck I was looking at. I just knew it had to catch these hands. I didn’t know what a Raid was either and thought Minecraft had just become sort of intense for a little while. But I will always remember when they were standing under my Giant Wharf Prismarine Vaguely Religious Rectangular Condos shooting at my adorable Villager with his precious leaf hat (all of my Villagers are gay men) sitting in a boat not hurting anyone and I’m still mad, bro. They shall know my wrath

#minecraft #long post #mobs #monsters #heres the essay absolutely no one asked for

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shamansantics · 5 years

Text

Some People Be Shitting on My Girl Ariel

And I am here to tell you why saying shit like "Ariel left her family for d*ck whereas Moana did it to save her village" is not on.

Ariel from the very start of the movie is shown to have a profound fascination with the human world. Her passion for anthropology is such that she befriended the only bird who'd come near her and avidly listens to him to collect every tidbit of information about humans that she can get.

In the famed song "Part of that World" she sings about how she longs to "ask them my questions and get some answers", which goes to show that she often feels ignored and tossed aside when she expressed curiosity. Her interests don't matter. Her concerns are invalid. (There's a lot of proof of this in the prequel where we see her dad completely ignore her when she tries to make a point about music and how Atlantea should have it.)

She also sings about wanting to be somewhere where "they don't reprimand their daughters", showing once again that she feels scorned and diminished. Powerless.

She doesn't sing about wanting to go to balls and meet dudes to thirst on. She sings about wanting to explore a new world, discover a new culture and - hopefully - better her own fate by going to a place she, although knowing little about it - feels and hopes is more progressive than her world in certain key areas, namely the respect given to young women.

Lo and behold, she sees a mortal man and is infatuated. Saves him. Sings to him. Bonds with him in the throes of danger. This is the first time she is close to the object of her passion - a real live human - and he is fascinating and male and pretty damn fine.

We don't know how much contact Ariel has with merman, but her best friend is a literal fish, her chaperone is a crab and like... do we see Ariel interact with any mermen? Or her sisters? Never. This isn't conclusive evidence but considering how tight a leash Triton tries to keep her on, I honestly wouldn't be shocked if she just plain wasn't allowed to talk to guys - tailed or legged - that were even remotely sexually compatible with her ever. So yeah.

She's out and about unsupervised, saves a hot dude, spends the night high on adrenaline and feeling like a powerful heroine while in the closest proximity she's ever been to a man who isn't her dad EVER... and the night before she'd seen him singing and dancing and being generally good humoured and not a jerk? She is going to fall hard and fast.

That's not a character flaw, okay. I repeat. FALLING IN LOVE ISN'T A CHARACTER FLAW.

It doesn't make her silly or weak or stupid to fall head over heels for a guy who represents everything she finds inspiring in a very short time. It makes her *sixteen*, her canon age, if I'm not mistaken. Hormones are high, mood is lit, guy is attractive. She's going to be attracted. She is going to love him. Love what he represents. Novelty. Freedom. Joy. Adventure.

Most of all, she's going love what he inspires in her: courage, strength, daring. And yeah, beauty and sexiness too.

He makes her feel more powerful than she's EVER felt before and they haven't even spoken yet! Unsurprisingly, she is going to confuse attraction and a feeling of empowerement with "true love", especially if she's never been told she was powerful before.

Ariel has been told she's pretty and sings well and all she's good for is sitting tight in her shell and combing her hair and performing for concerts.

As someone whose father has told them - and I quote - "the only thing I know that you can do well is sing" (ouch...), it smarts okay. It *hurts* to want more and be reduced to your voice. Unsurprising that Ariel didn't see trading it as a big deal.

By the time she goes to see Ursula, she has *saved a man's life* in the middle of a raging storm while the sea was on *fire*. Her chaperone has betrayed her leading to her father disrespecting her one time too many and then *destroyed* her most valuable possessions to "teach her a lesson". She is in love and angry and empowered. And he expects her to what? Go home and fucking *sing*?

Honestly, if Ursula hadn't asked for her voice, she'd probably have offered it up anyways in exchange for one (1) Atlean salt-and-vinegar chip.

So... keep in mind that this is the mindset of the girl who "gave up her world and family for d*ck".

Her dad's a jerk. Her sisters don't share her interest or understand her. Her best friend is a *fish* and just not able to keep up or truly connect with her the way she wishes he could. She is *lonely*. She is young. She is a girl.

And do you know what girls are taught? They're taught that the only thing that will make them feel more powerful than being in love... is being someone's mom. Ariel is too young to care about motherhood. But she is the perfect age to buy the "true love is the most powerful feeling you will ever experience" bullshit hook, line and sinker.

So if she feels empowered around a man? A good looking man at that? Must mean she's madly in love with him.

And see... this narrative... it isn't just Ariel who has it. She has spent *years* passionate about humanity and its culture only to be dismissed, mocked or forbidden to explore her interests at every turn. Her troves, build over years of exploration, is annihilated in *seconds*. Her father has NO respect whatsoever for her desire to learn about humans.

Ariel's true passion: anthropology of humanity is completely invalidated. No one sees it as something of value in this girl, much less something that might empower her enough to seek out the sea witch and give up her tail and voice to pursue. Least of all her.

And yet, it is. I am willing to bet that if she'd gone home after talking to Flotsam and Jetsam, the idea of seeking out the sea witch would have stayed there and within a decade, she'd have gone anyways.

The thing is... the interest of women and girls aren't taken seriously. They're "childish" and "immature" and "unimportant". The most important thing a woman can do is be in a relationship with a man and then a mother, or so we're told. That's why even accomplished career women are seen as having something fundamentally missing if they're single.

My point is... Ariel didn't abandon her family and home to chase after a guy she hadn't even talked to yet.

She abandoned her family and home to chase after a dream she'd had for years. The guy was a side quest that temporarily obsessed her because hormones and also threat of doom via seawitch... but folks. The sheer *delight* on that girl's face during her carriage ride through town is not the face of a woman whose biggest concern in life is getting married. You know... when her life isn't under threat if she doesn't.

What you should be pissed off about isn't that a sixteen year old dared fall in love with a guy who made her feel powerful, even though she didn't know him. And it's not that said sixteen year old was willing to trade the things OTHER PEOPLE told her were her most valuable assets (family that doesn't value her as a person, home she wants to leave, singing ability that has been used to demean her to a useless pretty thing)...

What you should be pissed off about... is that Triton thought it was okay to destroy the trove his daughter worked years towards. Would have NEVER allowed her to trade her legs and voice to go be human just for the sake of learning and enjoying human culture...

But was *blessing* her decision to do just that when framed under the lense "I'm in love with this dude I've know for less than a week and I'm gonna marry him, unfortunately tail's gotta go to make that happen and I'm never coming home ever."

He would have dragged her back kicking and screaming if she'd asked to leave so she could go pursue her passion. No amount of "proving herself worthy" would have made that an okay thing for her to do. But because it's "true love"... sure. Fine. She can go. He's fulfilled his fatherly duties anyways and made sure she's done the most important thing a daughter can do: marry a rich dude.

The moral of this story is...

A. Stop shitting on women for falling in love. It doesn't make them less worthy or their decisions less legitimate.

B. Stop shitting on women for confusing feeling empowered with falling in love when they're told about how amazing and magical the latter is and don't even know the former is exits, a lot of the time.

C. Start shitting on people for giving more legitimacy to the concept of "true love" as a motivator for making huge life changes than they do to shit like "because this thing interests me and I like it a lot and it makes me feel good when I do it". Start shitting on people for making a woman seeking a sense of fulfillment not worth a happy ending unless there's a romance too.

D. Moana was super selfish for wanting to leave her home to go explore even though she had a good family and her island was happy. And that's *okay*. Women are allowed to want things for themselves. They don't exist to please others and pacify their societies. Good on her for saving her village though.

E. Ariel was super selfish for wanting to leave her home to go explore even though her family was arguably much less awesome than Moana's. And that's *okay*. Good on her for meeting a dude she liked, falling for him and making the relationship last and be, as far as Ariel II shows us, a pretty decent one. WOMEN ARE ALLOWED TO WANT ROMANCE and it doesn't make them frivolous, even if they want it more than the "important" shit they're told they should be interested in instead. (Not that Ariel's main interest was romance, btw)

F. Women are allowed to be happy dammit. Be it via romance or career or hobby or academics or all of the above or *none* or other.

Just let women be happy without putting one down in favour of the other and shitting on them.

Ariel is a *great* movie and Ariel is a badass character and she is smart and extremely competent and *brave* and strong and good and anyone who says otherwise is a superficial coward whose forgotten what it feels like to be 16 and disrespected. In this essay I will...

#this is too long #rant about Disney #the Little Mermaid #ariel rocks #let women be happy #moana rocks too

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nikkitsune · 5 years

Text

Your Buttons, Da’len

Synopsis: Sweet, sweet release of coiled up sexual tension in the rotunda.

Warning: Fluff and Smut. Dirty Talk. Begging. Exhibitionism. Some Humor. This is a rewriting of an old fic turning it from Mature to downright Explicit. You can also read it in AO3.

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Solas looked up from the book he was reading. He squinted at the flickering lights caused by ravens circling around the rookery. It was a busy night in the upper floors of the rotunda.

Usually he would have been able to tolerate the noise and the people, but tonight, he was particularly on edge.

He just visited the inquisitor’s quarters that afternoon and while they shared an intimate kiss, it led to nothing more. Solas tried to exercise a bit of propriety regarding their relationship. He left her room before he can allow himself to push things any further, much to his frustration.

The birds finally stopped squawking. People were starting to return to their quarters. It was time for Skyhold to sleep. Perfect.

Solas turned his attention back to his book. Perhaps the writings of Genitivi on Fade and Spirits Mysterious could distract him enough to put his burning urges to rest.

Not long after, the door from the great hallway creaked open- a new distraction threatening his solace.

Inquisitor, he identified, without even turning to look. He could smell everything- the woody scent of her hair, the musk of dried sweat on her neck, the honeyed wine sitting on her tongue.

He closed his book and put it down on the table. The inquisitor was a distraction yes, but one that he would always welcome.

Solas felt his whole body ache for her. He rolled his tongue inside his mouth and then bit down his teeth- a habit he picked up whenever he tried to pacify his impulses.

He has been struggling so hard to hold himself back since the first time he held her.

Part of the hesitation was fear- with the growing desire that boiled and gnawed at his insides, he feared that he would break her if he did take her.

That, and the relationship was doomed to end in the first place.

He knew that eventually he would have to break her heart. Minimizing the emotional (and physical) entanglement was, he decided, the most logical course of action. Nobody said anything about it being desirable.

Solas stood up and turned to face the inquisitor.

“Vhenan,” he said finally, but what he saw almost made him choke on his own spit.

Gods, she was wearing a dress.

It was of marvelous silk with gold Orlesian embroidery cascading down her lithe legs.

As she sauntered towards him, the thin fabric would emphasize the curve of her thighs. A brief image of his fingers digging onto her hips flashed through his mind.

Solas tore his eyes away in embarrassment.

“I take it you don’t approve?” Kali asked.

“No, you look absolutely beautiful.” he assured her quickly. Oh the things I would do to you, he added in his head.

She seemed delighted to hear it. “Josephine had it made for me. She wanted me to wear it to a meeting with some marquis.” Kali scrunched her nose. “She insisted that this was necessary to… induce favorable outcomes. I feel a bit strange in it though.” Kali did a little turn, the silk brushing lightly on the floor.

As she turned, Solas noticed that some of the buttons on her back were undone. Tsk, tsk so careless. Why must you tempt me like this.

“Did you put on the dress yourself?” he inquired. “You missed a few buttons.”

Her face turned bright red. “I… yes. I did not want to trouble Josephine any further…” her voice trailed off.

Solas studied her embarrassed face- this was a face that she showed only to him. She dared not show weakness and doubt in front of their other allies. The inquisitor knew the role she had to play and she played it well.

Regardless, her guard was always down around him. Seeing her like this pleased him, like discovering the dark secrets of Dirthamen.

He extended his hand, “Come closer, vhenan .”

Every step that Kali took threw daggers into his heart. He can hardly contain himself. I will have to end this soon.

But perhaps not tonight. Not yet.

Solas held her by the waist and gently spun her around so her back was facing him. As she turned, the woody scent of her hair drove Solas full to bursting. He closed his eyes for a moment and allowed himself the pleasure of this proximity. He observed the dress and started unbuttoning it.

“Solas?” she gasped.

“You have the buttons all wrong, da’len.” he said. “I have to take them off to put them all in the right place.”

He looked up at the rookery and noticed some people returning to the tower. Like moths to a flame, people leaned on the ledge and observed them. From what Solas could see, there was Dorian, Fiona, the mages, Leliana and her spies.

They all pretended not to look but he knew that every move was being burned into memory to share over cups of ale later.

What he had with the inquisitor was no secret but the two of them tried to be as discreet as they possibly could.

“Relax. I am not just about to undress you here. Not when so many can see you.” his voice was calm, putting a lid on the storm brewing in his heart.

As Solas undid the buttons, more and more of her white flesh became available for him to touch. He traced a finger down her spine, his fingertips like little electric currents running across her bare back.

Kali let out a whimper. Ah, she is enjoying this. Imagining her face at that moment filled Solas with a terrible, feral desire to take her right there on the floor of the rotunda where so many can see.

He hiked the dress up, exposing her bare thighs for his eager hands to explore. Gods, she wasn’t even wearing smallclothes underneath! Another secret exposed only to him. It wouldn't be out of line to show my appreciation now, would it? Solas licked his lips, already convinced of the answer.

“Should I?” he asked, his voice softer than a hush.

A brief pause. She was hesitating. The demands of propriety, he was all too aware.

Then, a blessing. A slight nod of her head. A demure yes leaving her supple lips.

Emboldened by this concurrence, he bent her down on the table. He then fixed his hands over her hips and pulled her against him roughly, closing the gap so she fit perfectly between his legs. The table rocked with force as Kali held onto it.

She gasped, too surprised to make out what words to say. All she could think about was his hard cock currently pressing on her ass. The yearning pooled in her gut as she rubbed her legs together in an attempt to ease her arousal.

Solas rocked into her gently, feeling her warm skin against his erection. He grunted as he pressed his cock harder onto her ass, relishing the friction between their bodies.

“S-Solas please…” she whispered, her voice thick with wanting.

“Please what, vhenan?” he bent down and kissed her back.

His hot breath seared her skin as he licked her flesh, salt against his tongue. The more he licked, the more he wanted. He opened his mouth further and flattened his tongue on her shoulders, ending the trail with a bite. Kali cried out in surprise. Their position made everything a surprise to her.

In between kisses, he continued rocking into Kali, feeling as much as he could feel through the leather straps of his pants. Kali's knees buckled as she met his every thrust. She let out a strangled groan, a mix of frustration and pleasure.

Solas fumbled with the fabric of her dress so that it gave him access to her bare navel. He then ran his fingers down towards her clit. Inch after agonizing inch, closer to where he wanted to be. He stopped at the nub and circled it with his middle finger.

Bold, very bold. He heard someone say from upstairs. Was it Dorian? He truly did not care, the world could end at this moment and he will die in bliss. More. He needed more. He was wild with need. And yet, he was deriving so much pleasure in delaying what the inquisitor wanted from him.

Kali trembled uncontrollably under his firm hands. “More...” she begged. “Please let me feel you.”

“They are watching us upstairs, vhenan. Perhaps we should stop? Hm?” he whispered.

"N-no! Don't stop!" Kali exclaimed. She scratched the surface of the table in an attempt to contain her moans.

Solas palmed her heat, his fingers threatening the entrance. He teased one finger up her slit, just slightly dipping in to wet the tip. He observed with mad delight how Kali’s shoulders quivered in anticipation.

“Now, Solas.” she wailed.

“You have to say it, inquisitor.” Solas said, certain that this will awaken something in her. He knew that the title bothered her, no more than being called Fen’Harel used to bother him. It was a kink, one that they shared but only Solas knew.

“Please... please fuck me.” in her frustration, she pound on the table with her clenched fist. "Ema 'ma dhula i pala em!"

Solas smiled. It was strangely fascinating how Kali spoke straight elvish when in distress. For a moment he wondered what other crass elvish phrases her pretty lips can utter. He dug his other hand into her hair and pulled slightly so she was now looking up. Then, finally giving into her need, he slid two fingers inside her all at once. The slickness of her opening eased the entry. Kali cried out in surprise.

Fuck. She was hot, tight, and unbelievably wet. Solas gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw. His cock ached against his breeches, yearning for contact. He wanted so much to take her, to damn everything for this wonderful woman.

He tilted his head to look above him, at the many eyes that were now gaping at them. It has been such a long time since Solas has involved himself in mischief. It was invigorating.

In ancient Arlathan, such displays weren’t a cause for alarm, especially when it comes to people who wield power. Most would turn a blind eye and keep to themselves. The inquisition would surely talk about this, but none would judge them for taking their pleasures where they can get it, he was certain. Almost certain.

Solas curled his two fingers inside her and pressed on her walls in quick rhythmic pulses, eliciting a muffled cry from the inquisitor. She bucked her hips against him, desperate for more friction. The pull on her hair brought pain that twirled with the pleasure pounding into her. More. Please. Harder. Her mind was reduced to a dizzying mess of begging and desperation.

Taking out his fingers slightly, he ran it up and down her folds, then entered her again with a more determined thrust. He groaned as he was reintroduced to the scalding heat inside of her. He let go of Kali's hair and then frantically started to take off his pants with that hand.

Kali pressed herself down on the table, her arms stretched out like a cat. It was an invitation. She too wanted more. This view brought pause to Solas, as he looked up at the upper floors once again, becoming more and more conscious of what he was about to do.

Should I, vhenan? Now? With everyone watching?

He decided against it, perhaps not tonight. Instead, with a bit of rift magic, he just pulled inside her, pressing hard on her most sensitive spot.

It was almost enough to unravel her. She chased her climax, grinding incessantly against the force of his hand. He felt her tighten around his fingers as he pounded against her, each thrust harder than the next.

Kali threw her head back, moaning elvhen curses into the open air. “I’m close...!” she rocked against his hand, completely oblivious to the people watching them.

“I know, vhenan. I can feel you.” Solas felt her pulsate on his dripping wet fingers.

A slew of elvhen curses tumbled out of Kali’s honeyed tongue as she felt her pleasure reach its peak. “I... I can’t! Solas!”

“Yes, you can.” Solas thrust harder and harder into her, his force unrelenting. “Cum for me, inquisitor.”

That did it. Alas, she came undone.

“Fuck!” she cried out as the orgasm hit her in waves. Kali shook uncontrollably as the aftermath of pleasure coursed through her body. She heaved deep breaths while propping her elbows on the table. He felt the gush of warmth drip onto the floor.

“Good girl,” Solas smiled as he tenderly helped her up and turned her to face him. He kissed her. Long, deep, and hard. She was still shaking as he explored her mouth, slipping his tongue in with gentle, playful flicks.

Solas pulled away ever so slowly and observed Kali’s flushed cheeks. Kali could barely stand.

“Now... I have to finish what I started,” he said.

Kali’s eyes grew large, unsure whether she could go through another world-shattering orgasm.

“Your buttons, da’len .” Solas chuckled softly.

"Ah. Of course." Kali huffed and looked away.

His hands went around her and got to work. He finally started buttoning her dress up. And then, after a moment too soon, he finished setting it all in place. “It is finished.” he said.

Solas steeled himself as he let his fingers linger down the small of her back one last time.

“Bravo!” there was clapping on the second floor. The two of them looked up and saw Dorian shaking his head in awe and disbelief. The rest of the people in the upper floors started dispersing in hushed whispers.

The realization finally dawned on the inquisitor. “Shit! How many were watching? Oh, Creators…” she fixed her dress in a hurry and made her way to the door.

“I’d say about half of Skyhold,” Dorian humored her. “But don’t worry about them, I’m sure they only have nice things to say about your little… public display of affection.”

Kali groaned and laughed inspite of herself. She did not regret it, but only wished that Solas would continue.

She hurried towards the door. Before she pulled it open, she stopped and looked back at him. Her face glowed and a small smile graced her lips. “Thank you… for fixing my dress, hahren.”

Ah, she retreats back to formality. Solas smiled kindly at her. “On the contrary, I think we quite ruined it,” he said when he realized that the fabric was wet and damp and sticky. “Perhaps it can be laundered before you wear it to your meeting.” he said.

"Yes, well. Thank you anyway." she said.

"Certainly, inquisitor." Solas said, loud enough for Dorian to hear.

“HAH!” Dorian’s voice cackled in the background.

The inquisitor hung her head and walked out of the rotunda. Solas watched her scurry away like a wolf would his prey.

He wanted to follow.

But perhaps not tonight.

#solas smut #solavellan smut #solavellan fanfiction #solas fanfic #dragon age inquisition #dai fanfic #solas #lavellan

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raendown · 5 years

Link

Almost did not bother to post this one but here we are anyway. Last of my small fills for the @naruto-rarepair-bingo, today’s prompt: gods and goddesses.

Pairing: IzunaTobirama Word count: 3200 Rated: T+ Summary: Promised away in an arranged marriage to the greedy king of their land, Izuna appealed to the God of Compassion, ruler of all gods, to save him from this unwanted fate. All he wanted was an escape. What he found was love and so much more.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Transcendence

In a world of gods and beings with immense power there once lived a man of simple beginnings. Born to a family of modest wealth, Izuna wanted for very little that his elder brother did not provide. For many years he lived a happy life surrounded by comforts and he was content in his place with very few complaints. Perhaps a little arrogant, maybe sometimes a little impatient, underneath the selfishness he presented to others there lay a heart of gold that wanted only to please the brother whom he loved.

Until the day his world was rocked and his heart betrayed by an unexpected decision.

Hungry for power beyond his position, the elder of the Uchiha brothers sought friendship with the king that ruled their lands and availed himself of whatever the king asked from him in return. For a time Izuna thought little of this. Always before his brother had considered what was best for him and always he had been allowed to seek whatever path in life made him happiest. That changed on the day he was presented to the king, when the monarch of their land saw his beauty for the first time and fell madly in love with him – or so he claimed.

The king’s love was a selfish, thoughtless thing, worried only for his own desires with no care for what Izuna may want. When his attempts to capture the young man’s attention failed the king went to his older brother to whisper quietly in his ear. In exchange for Izuna’s hand in marriage he offered riches and power, jewels and soldiers, influence and a place at his side for years to come. Seeing such an easy path to all he had ever wanted, Madara accepted the king’s offer without consulting his sibling first. It was his right as the head of the house, he claimed, to determine the fate of those under his care. And unfortunately he was correct.

Unhappy with this decision, Izuna pleaded with his brother not to make him do this. The king was not a kind man, he said. The king would not treat him well but would make him unhappy. Madara did not listen.

In desperation Izuna fled to the temple of the God of Compassion, Tobirama. On his knees he prayed at the altar for many hours, confiding his worries to the ruler of the gods, begging with all his heart for Madara’s will to be turned aside. From sunup to sundown he poured out his heart but, to his devastation, received no answer. With the heaviness of fate in every step he left the temple thinking himself doomed to a life he had never wanted with no one to hear his cries of despair.

Yet there was someone who had listened, unbeknownst to him. Though he had not shown himself the God of Compassion was sworn to listen to all who prayed for his aid and he had taken heed of Izuna’s plight. He found himself confused and intrigued by the passion in the young human’s words. To have someone plead so strongly against their own marriage prospect was foreign to him, something he had yet to witness in all of the many arrangements he had blessed. So unusual was it that the god Tobirama vowed to watch over Izuna.

So it was that Tobirama watched from afar to learn what he could of this fascinating human and the situation he struggled so desperately to escape. And the longer he watched the more deeply he fell in love with this human who turned his nose up in someone’s face and then granted them favors when their back was turned. Izuna was beautiful to the others of his kind but to a god it was his soul that shined the brightest and it wasn’t long before Tobirama knew that he wanted to meet with this man. That he had to know this man who could surprise even a god with his actions. Truly Izuna must be one of a kind, surely they must be destined to meet.

He appeared before Izuna on a hot summer evening with little fanfare for Izuna was not one to be impressed by those who thought too highly of themselves.

“I am the God of Compassion,” he said, “and I have heard you words. Your plight has touched me and I have come to grant you the freedom you prayed for so fervently. Ask of me, young Izuna, and I shall grant your wishes.”

“Oh highest of gods I ask only that you free me from this unwanted marriage to a man who desires nothing more than the pleasures of my body.”

With a magnanimous nod Tobirama vowed, “As I have promised so shall I do. Tell me, Izuna of the Uchiha family, where do you wish to go.”

The question gave Izuna pause and he admitted that he had nowhere else to go but that surely anywhere must be better than to spend the rest of his days chained to a selfish and pompous king. His answer brought thoughtfulness to the supreme god’s face.

“I would not wish to see you untethered and alone in this world. Seven days from now I will ask you again where you wish to go and your answer shall be my will.”

But that was not all there was to the god’s promise. For six days Tobirama returned to visit with this human who had captured his attention and for six days they spent many hours together. Izuna wove tales of his people and the great myths of their land. In return Tobirama recounted the beginning of the world and told stories of the gods’ cavorting. So well did they get along that the seventh day arrived almost as a surprise and still Izuna had not taken a moment to think of a place he might flee to in order to escape his unwanted marriage.

And yet something had begun to grow between them as they spent their days together and as he learned more about the god who promised to solve his problems Izuna finally recognized the warmth that was blossoming under his breast. On the morning of the seventh day he went to his brother the moment he woke with his heart in his hands.

Calling upon their brotherly bond he confessed that he had fallen deeply in love with the God of Compassion himself and asked that he be unbound from the king he did not want so that he might follow the path to happiness. But his brother refused him and forbade him from ever seeing Tobirama again. Izuna could see that his brother had been blinded by the promise of riches, taken in by false promises until he forgot the things that should truly matter. Though it hurt him Izuna knew what he had to do.

When Tobirama came to him that day with a patient smile he asked the question as he had promised to; where did Izuna wish to go if he were taken away from here?

“I would stay by your side,” Izuna told him and Tobirama received him happily, both of their hearts’ desires fulfilled.

Borne by a golden chariot they fled the Uchiha estate to the place where the gods made their home. There they alighted and were together and they both were happy to have found the other half of their soul. Their union was one of partnership and equality, a give and take that spoke to many happy years ahead of them.

Yet not all were pleased. In the kingdom from whence he fled the suitor Izuna had scorned burned hot with rage and shame, filled with insult to be so callously rejected and humiliated to have been judged as less than a god. All his life had his subjects worshipped him and told him that he, their king, was like unto a god himself. To have his intended flee the rich life he offered for the hand of another left a darkness that rotted in him until he could bear it no longer. Filled with rage, he made a plan.

In secret he called his forces together and amassed a great army. The kingdom was large and his influence strong, far-reaching. Word was sent by a secret messenger to the Uchiha estate where Madara was called upon to test his loyalty. Would he support his king in this hour of need or would he break all bonds of fealty and stand by the brother who had betrayed them both? Madara's answer was swift and short. He marched for the capital the very next morning with as many strong men as he had to offer riding at his back for he too had felt spurned by Izuna’s quiet exit which cost him his path to riches and power.

When all of his forces had been gathered and the points of their swords stretched from horizon to horizon the king bade his servants to fall on their knees and pray.

“Pray to the god of compassion that he come and meet his doom. Beseech him appear and face the calamity that he hath wrought for I declare that I will wage war upon he who has stolen what is rightfully mine.”

In the home of the gods Tobirama heard the prayers of those who sent him worship, as he listened always to the words spoken to him, and in these words he found amusement. How very much the king must think of himself to challenge a god, to declare war on the heavenly host. With laughter on his lips he went to Izuna and told him what prayers had reached his ears but instead of mirth he was met with fear that he quickly tried to sooth. No mortal could hope to meet a god in battle and triumph, he assured his love.

Still Izuna’s worries were not soothed. He worried for the crops that would not grow with so many men gone to war, for the wives that wept over husbands who might never return. More than his divine lover he knew the effect that war could have on the peoples below them and this was not what he had wanted when he fled his own situation.

Izuna begged Tobirama to put a stop to this without letting it go any further and Tobirama, seeing that this was truly important to him, agreed. Moved as he was by the emotion in Izuna’s voice, how could he do less than anything his beloved asked of him? With utmost confidence in his own abilities he girded himself for war and selected the finest weapons from his holy arsenal. As he made to leave he was stopped by a gentle hand and the press of soft lips against his cheek – and surely no wine could ever taste as sweet as having the love of this man at his side.

He listened gravely to Izuna’s warnings to be careful. To remind him of his purpose Izuna tore a strip of silk from his own clothing to tie around Tobirama’s wrist as a symbol of his favor for all to see. With courage roaring like a fire in his breast Tobirama set out from the place where the gods made their home and mounted the same golden chariot with which he had carried them both to a peaceful escape not so long ago.

The battlefield stretched out before him with grave silence when he alighted upon the earth, endless miles of spears and swords standing in orderly rows before the wicked king who hid behind their might. In disgust Tobirama called upon the king to face him like a man rather than hide behind others.

In answer the king sent his champion to face Tobirama in battle – Madara of the Uchiha family, the brother spurned. And although several attempts were made with honeyed words and sincere reassurances that Izuna’s life was happy and safe now Madara was not to be soothed or deterred from his path. So strongly did he perceive some injustice done to himself in his brother’s refusal to marry for his gain that Madara was willing to throw his life away meeting swords with a god.

When it became clear that words would not spare him from this ridiculous farce Tobirama unsheathed his blade and lifted his shield. Gird in armor from a heavenly forge, armed with weapons shaped from a fallen star, it was little wonder that the battle swayed easily in his favor almost the very moment it commenced. Yet he found himself surprised by Madara's skill. Far from the pampered and lazy noble he had expected, his opponent demonstrated great skill from the first clash of their blades and it quickly became clear that they were a better match in battle than anyone could have predicted. What should have been a quick and resounding victory became a struggle for the highest of stakes.

For Tobirama had given his word when he accepted the challenge and it burned in his heart to know that if he fell in this battle it would be the end of Izuna’s freedom, that to be vanquished now would doom his beloved for the rest of his pitiless life. Such a thing could not come to pass.

And yet his arms grew tired. His parries grew weak. So long had it been since there was need for him to take up sword and shield that Tobirama found he had forgotten the rigors of war. It did not take long for Madara to sense that victory may have been closer to his grasp than many believed. His grimace of exertion became the feral grin of a creature on the hunt, a predator that senses the weakness of its prey. With a great war cry he brought all of his skill to bear and pushed forward in a relentless attack that drove the god of compassion back until his knees folded and he knelt upon the earth with both arms raised to protect himself.

Then it was that a breeze happened across the sandy plain where they had made their battlefield and lifted the scrap of silk tied about Tobirama’s pale wrist. Vibrant red woven with golden thread, an outfit he had willed in to existence to match the fiery passion of his lover’s heart.

“For Izuna,” he whispered and Madara paused in his wrath.

“For Izuna,” he murmured and the strength returned to his arms and his legs.

“For Izuna,” he declared and a fire was stoked inside him that could not be dimmed.

“For Izuna!” he roared and his purpose was made anew, the love he felt rushing through him and giving him the power to push himself back to his feet and drive Madara away.

As though the Fates themselves had blessed him Tobirama gathered his godly strength and brought all of his skill to bear until it was Madara kneeling in the dirt with a blade at his neck, begging for mercy he did not deserve. Yet Tobirama granted him mercy – of a sort.

Long was the noble Madara's hair, long enough to brush the back of his knees for all who looked upon him to see that he had yet to be defeated in battle. And firm was Tobirama’s grasp as he held the cruel brother’s hair in one hand as with the other he sheared it in one swipe of his sharp blade. Madara's horrified screams mingled with those of the evil king still hiding behind the ranks of those he had gathered to defend his selfish cause.

“Are you or are you not the God of Compassion?” Madara cried, weeping to feel the wind against his scalp as he was shaven bare for all to see his shame. “Have mercy upon me! Have compassion as you are named!” He shrank away when Tobirama drew himself up in stern reprimand.

“You mis-define the word for your own purposes. I have had compassion upon the weak and the suffering. You are neither. I grant you mercy in the form of your life, in giving you the chance to repent your sins. Pray, my most wretched brother in law, pray that someday you may understand the things that you have already lost.”

Leaving his opponent defeated and broken, Tobirama turned towards the king’s armies and bade them to part. Seeing the fire of holy purpose in his eyes, they did so, stepping aside to make him a path to the king who had brought them all together. Tobirama’s justice was swift and unyielding. Although the king made an effort to defend himself he too had fallen victim to laziness during the long years of peace and had grown accustomed to having others perform tasks in his name. Whatever skill he might have had in times gone by had long been forgotten. He fell beneath Tobirama’s blade with little fanfare and not a single voice raised in his defense. When the king lay dead before his army they looked to the god before them for instruction, the clear victor on the field and the one they most feared to displease.

Tobirama had no interest in tending to human lands or meaningless golden crowns. It was not for him to take the throne he had so easily vacated. Yet there was another who he knew deserved all the good in the world, whose heart was deep and warm enough to guide these peoples in need of a kinder leader. He returned to the home of the gods to find Izuna with his nails bitten to the quick with worry and his beloved hurried to greet him with grateful relief to see he remained unharmed. Quiet and solemn were his words as he told Izuna of all that had passed on the earth below.

“It is for you to rule them,” he told his lover. “You who were to be their Prince Consort, now you may rule over them as a kind and benevolent King, clever and quick with your heart of gold.”

He listened carefully to Izuna’s worries that this new duty would part them but this Tobirama was quick to soothe as well. Though he may have endless worshippers to tend to and Izuna may have an entire land of subjects to watch over there was nothing on the earth or in the heavens that could keep them apart for he had found happiness in their bond and it was clear to him that Izuna felt the same.

And so it was that the supreme ruler of the gods took his first spouse in a human who deserved compassion as only he could give. The ignoble Madara returned to his estate alone and well-chastened where he would in later years reach out again to the brother he had treated so poorly. Far and wide across the conquered land the peoples agreed that peace and prosperity both had increased under Izuna’s ruling guidance. The land was quiet and happy and all was well.

Thus is the legend of Tobirama who answered the prayer of one in need and in return found an answer to prayers of his own.

#rae writes #rarepairbingo2019 #izutobi #izuna #tobirama #madara #mythology au #gods and goddesses #board a #and that makes bingo #fanfiction

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