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darklinaforever · 3 months

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No because once again, you are just repeating like parrots the same arguments over and over again that have already been dismantled and I don't care. As one of these anonymous messages says, it must be tiring and boring to post the same thing 24/7...

I know the definition of grooming as well as the true meaning of what is implied in a historical context. And obviously not you. I already did an entire post explaining this book and show grooming bullshit :

But all you care about is appearing morally superior and you look like a bunch of ridiculous fanatics. Or some ridiculous bigot, because I'm pretty sure it's the same person sending these stupid messages over and over again.

What is your problem ? You're bored ? Why are you spying on my accounts like that ? Seriously, why are you so obsessed with me ? I imagine him on the lookout for the slightest post on Daemyra that I make ready to pounce like a predator on its prey. My god, this person(s) must not have a life. It's sad. 😂

What do you expect ? That between the insults and the repetitions of the same stupid arguments over and over again for a long time I actually delete my account to please you ? Or that I suddenly say : Oh but my god you are right ! You delivered me from evil ! Daemyra is such a groomer ! Daemon is a monster who doesn't love anyone ! 😱😂

By the way, here is again the little free quote from GRRM Martin's book on Daemon, his favorite character whom he considers to be a gray and complex character. So your Daemon is BAD BAD BAD, well the author himself tells you no :

Over the centuries, House Targaryen has produced both great men & monsters. Prince Daemon was both. In his day there was not a man so admired, so beloved, & so reviled in all Westeros. He was made of light & darkness. To some he was a hero, to others the blackest of villains.

You really look like a bunch of disillusioned idiots. It must be hard when the true creator himself doesn't agree with you on what the character is.

It must also piss you off that these interviews for the series exist, right ?

There's no point in booing me because I say something that has already been said by the directors and screenwriters themselves. I don't agree with everything they say or do in this stupid adaptation, but at least we can agree on some points.

Oh, and I have already said I don't know how many times that I recognized that Daemyra had toxic aspects in the series version, except that, so what ? This will prevent me from shipping the Daemyra version of the series maybe ?! No. Love is not necessarily something pure, we have to stop the bullshit, especially in fiction. On the other hand, I maintain that there is nothing toxic in the book version. There is no such thing as a brothel. It's an invention of Mushroom. There is no voluntary abandonment of Daemon for 10 years. In reality he was banished under penalty of death. There is no Daemon leaving Rhaenyra to deal with childbirth alone. He was by his side in the books. There is no strangulation either. And once again, the age difference and the incest aspect are not real arguments as to a possible toxicity in their relationship, due to placing the relationship in its fictional and historical context from which GRRM draws inspiration, namely the feudal era, where age differences and incest were included in the customs of the time for specific reasons. Especially if we are in a family where incest has no impact due to their MAGIC BLOOD ! These elements are not evidence of toxicity. Open a history book. An age difference and incestuous marriage in a historical context does not necessarily result in toxic abusive relationships. This is bullshit.

Also, I don't have the impression that you will understand that the show is not the book. I always distinguish between the two and obviously you don't. Because what exactly do you believe ? That if Daemon cheats on Rhaenyra in the series, my world will fall apart ? No. My posts on Daemyra will continue because the book will always exist. You know, the book that has a different canon from the show, therefore implying that the canon of the series cannot interfere with that of the book. But you didn't remember the difference between the two. You prefer to mix it up to fix your pathetic vision.

The series is already shit. Even for the Daemyra relationship they messed up on a lot of points. And I'm not even going to start with the greens, Alicent etc. It is a disaster. The series itself is full of inconsistencies.

I will add that in reality you do not care about the so-called abuse that Rhaenyra suffered from Daemon. Otherwise you would care what Alicent and the greens team did to her. But you don't care. You even expect the show to write scenes of stupid abuse between Daemyra over and over again. Because you don't actually care about Rhaenyra. The proof tells you that no one can love the whore of Dragonstone, a nickname literally coming from the greens team. Bunch of hypocrites.

Once again I recommend going to the tumblr of @la-pheacienne and of @horizon-verizon to educate you on what the character of Daemon and the Daemyra relationship really is. The posts of @stromuprisahat are also pretty good in general on Fire and Blood.

The antis are really crazy. The bitch who should close her account apparently well she tells you to go fuck yourself and buy a life.

@aleksanderscult

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juniorgman187 · 4 years

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2 Truths & a Lie (Spencer Reid Imagine)

Summary: A game of “Strip 2 Truths and a Lie” helps heats things up between SSA Reader and Spencer.

Prompt: “Ladies first.” Couple: Spencer Reid x Female Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: Alcohol consumption, stripping Word count: 3.5k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Strip poker!” Garcia slurred. “Let’s play! Let’s play! Let’s play!”

You had to interject. “No way! If Reid’s playing - I’m not. That’s so unfair.”

Morgan agreed with you. “Yeah, I’m with Hot Stuff over here. He’s banned from three casinos for a reason.”

All eyes turned to the aforementioned man, whose smug smile reached from ear to ear. “Fair enough. What can we play then?” He asked.

It was your turn to scream like a giddy Garcia. “Two truths and a lie!” You jumped up from your seat on the floor. “It’s totally fair cause we’re all profilers here. So it’ll either show how good of a liar you are or show how good of a profiler you are.”

“Excuse me, Girl Goddess. Need I remind you - I’m not a profiler.” Garcia butted in.

JJ made a disapproving noise against the brim of her red solo cup. “Hey, hey, hey - you’re like the first to tell when someone’s hiding something.”

Garcia simply smiled at this. “Ah, you’re right, Jayje.”

So it was settled. You and the BAU were gonna play “Strip 2 Truths and a Lie.”

But to make things a little more interesting, you changed up the rules.

The order the players would take turns went in a clockwise circle. Garcia, Morgan, Reid, you, Prentiss, and JJ. (Hotch and Rossi bailed last minute. Apparently, being invited to Garcia’s wasn’t an offer they couldn’t refuse.)

Instead of players guessing what the lie was and stopping once someone guessed correctly, you were all going to guess at the same time. Garcia took the liberty of handing each of your sticky notes and once the player said their two truths and one lie, you would write your guess on your post-it and put it in a pile for the “liar” to read.

Then the “liar” would declare who was stripping based on who guessed incorrectly. And just for some more fun - the “liar” wouldn’t explicitly tell what the real lie was. You profilers would just have to use context clues to do that.

Since each player was guessing on post-its, Garcia gave you each a different color to distinguish who guessed what. Granted, it was Garcia, so she had every shade of the rainbow. She gave herself the red, Reid got the orange, you got yellow, Prentiss - green, Morgan got blue. And JJ - purple.

“I’m first!” Garcia sing-songily said. “Alright - I had a guinea pig named Cerulean when I was little . . . my mom knew how to juggle, andddd, OH! I lost my virginity to a guy I met online with the gamer tag ‘FastAndFurious79.”

Morgan almost spat out the drink he was nursing from his shock at the last one. “Babygirl, you did what?!” The pitch of his voice sent the rest of you into a frenzy as you each wrote your guesses on your sticky note pads.

You guessed the lie was the guinea pig. And using your peripherals, you saw that Prentiss thought the same. You folded your yellow sticky note and placed it in the center. Eventually, when the rainbow was complete, Garcia began reading them. “I hate you guys! It’s no fun being friends with profilers.” She pouted.

“You lost your virginity to a guy with the gamertag ‘fast and furious?!” Morgan screeched. You and the team laughed so hard, your stomach started hurting.

The game continued for an entire round until it was Morgan’s second turn.

“Alright, growing up my favorite movie was Kindergarten Cop . . . um, I used to be a lifeguard, and my body count is higher than my age.”

Reid was quick to jot down his answer, but you took a little time with yours.

“What’s the problem, Hot Stuff?” Morgan teased.

“Mmm, I dunno. You’ve genuinely got me stumped on this one.” You admitted. Morgan just shot you that infomercial worthy grin as a response.

Hesitantly, you finally wrote down that he was lying about his favorite moving being Kindergarten Cop. Your sticky note was the last to go in the pile, so you just handed yours to Morgan to speed up the process. He chuckled while going through most of them and looked back up at all of you with that same smug look Reid had earlier.

“Looks like Pretty Boy and Hot Stuff are the first to strip tonight!” He declared, making you roll your eyes.

“Your body count isn’t higher than your age?!” Reid squeaked. Morgan laughed and shook his head no. Now that - that was shocking.

“Alright, what can I take off that counts?” You clarified.

“Any piece of clothing that covers your legs, arms, and torso.” Morgan happily informed.

It wasn’t fair. On a normal workday, you would have a blazer, pants, or sometimes a skirt, and a blouse or shirt underneath, but today was collectively your guys’ day off - so you only had on a fitted tee and jeans. Whereas the genius to the right of you wore a sweater vest, button-up, tie, belt, and his pants. Before, you would make fun of him for wearing so much on a day off, but now you were envious.

“Not fair! He’s got like 80 pieces of clothing on.” You whined. The rest of the group, including Reid, laughed at you. Not a single one of them offered mercy. Looks like you were just gonna have to strip off what little clothes you were wearing.

“Ladies first.”

Reid teased as if he was being a gentleman by saying this. His voice made it sound so subtly seductive that your cheeks heat up. He even said it with the side of his mouth, making his plump lips form a smirk.

You raised your brows at his cockiness. You wanted to make him eat his words, so you stood up - first, unbuttoning your jeans painfully slow. All eyes were on you as you stuck your thumbs inside the waistband and wiggled your hips, while simultaneously pulling your jeans down. You made a little show out of it, milking the situation. You dragged the denim down while arching your back to flaunt your butt as it was unhurriedly revealed. And just for fun, you angled yourself, where Reid could get the full view. When your jeans dropped to your ankles, you stepped out of them, bent over to retrieve them, and for a finishing touch - you dropped them right onto Reid’s lap.

“They don’t call me Hot Stuff for nothing.” You flirtatiously remarked.

“WOO-HOO-HOO! That was sexy, Mamas!” Morgan cheered. The girls all had faces of admiration or surprise on them - mainly admiration. Whereas Reid appeared like he’d just discovered porn or something - like a whole world of possibilities opened up.

“Hello? Earth to Dr. Reid?” You joked, sitting back down beside him.

When you felt the floor’s rug against your thong, it shocked you a little, so you moaned at the feeling. Not loud enough for everyone to hear over their laughs and cheers but just loud enough for Reid to. And he most certainly did. Because you caught his tongue sweeping over his lips while his eyes looked at yours. If you weren’t in a group setting, you would’ve straddled him right then and there and kissed him, but you weren’t gonna lose control like that. The question was - would he? And secretly - you were hoping he would.

“Wow, Y/N. You’ve rendered him speechless. I don’t think that’s ever happened before,” Prentiss quipped. “You should do that more often.” Everyone erupted into another fit of laughter.

Reid shook his head as if to re-enter reality. “I, uh, I - I’m just gonna take off my belt.” He concluded, fiddling nervously with the buckle.

“Need some help there?” Before you even finished the question, you put your small fingers around the clasp, making him shiver.

“N-no!” He whimpered, grabbing your wrists in one hand and moving them away from his groin. He continued to unbuckle it and neatly place it behind him.

The game continued on for many more minutes with Morgan losing his shirt and consequently, Garcia losing her shit (which was understandable because Morgan was RIPPED.) JJ removed her belt, while Garcia took off her cropped cardigan. Prentiss was the only one left who was fully clothed, while you and Reid still hadn’t lost any more articles of clothing since the initial time you did.

“Alright, alright! Me again!” Garcia giggled, while she downed the rest of whatever was in that red solo cup. “Let’s see. Oh, I got it! Okay, my hair has been dyed every color except for green, I’m the president of a secret club for people that love sea otters, and I’ve had sex more times on the floor than in the bed.” She squealed.

You weren’t buying that she’s never dyed her hair green, and after a quick side glance to the right, you saw that Reid didn’t buy it either. You folded the paper over your answer and placed it confidently in the center - waiting patiently for the verdict. Garcia zealously scooped up all the post its and scrutinized them. “Uh oh, I think Boy Wonder and Girl Goddess might be out of a job once Sir Hotch finds out how bad they are at detecting lies!” Garcia got so excited she started jumping up and down. You pouted and faked sobs once you heard this.

“Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!” The group started cheering.

Just to be the center of attention once more, you stood up and put your right hand under the hem of the left side of your shirt, and you put your left hand under the hem of the right side of your shirt, making your arms cross over your tummy. You pulled the shirt up (sucking in your gut once it was uncovered) all the way until it was finally over your head. You were left in your maroon push up bra and your black lacy thong - a set that didn’t match, but when you looked down at yourself, looked decently good together.

The “crowd” gasped at your figure in its entirety. Encouraging words were spewed at you, making you smile.

“Alright, your turn.” You nudged Reid. He simply slipped off his sweater vest, quite ungracefully might you add. But little did you know that he lost all coordination after seeing you so bare.

“Here.” He whispered, removing his tie from his collar. He began unbuttoning his dress shirt, which you didn’t understand why, until he shrugged it off of himself and helped you into it. You weren’t surprised in the least when you saw that underneath his white button-up was a cotton tee. Of course, he had even more layers than you previously thought.

“Aww, look at that.” Prentiss said with awe at Reid’s actions.

While Reid rolled up the long sleeves until he saw your hands peek through, all you could manage to do was look at him. He bit his lip while he did this, showing how focused he was on the task. He was absolutely adorable.

“Do you want me to button it for you?” He quietly asked. You shook your head no. “It’s okay. Thank you.” If you could’ve seen yourself, you would’ve seen that your eyes had hearts in them. You were the epitome of lovesick.

“Yeah, of course.”

When he stopped helping you dress, you couldn’t help but notice the outfit he was left to wear. It was a plain white tee with gray dress pants and his classic black converse. How he managed to look so good in such a simple outfit was beyond you. It was quite unfair actually. You thought his normal quirky attire suit him pretty well but this outfit made you feel something you’d never felt before. Your eyes drifted up to his hair, which since he cut it last year, was growing out again but was still short. It was the perfect length and had a little curl and unruliness to it - just the way you liked. It looked so soft that you were overcome with a sudden overwhelming urge to run your fingers through it, but you willed yourself not to.

“I think someone’s in love over there.” Morgan pointed to you, making you snap out of your trance.

“What? NO!” You shrieked.

“Oh my god, you totally are.” Prentiss giggled.

“Somebody likes Reid.” JJ sing-songily teased before sipping at her drink and looking away.

“OK, enough with the crazy talk. We’re all a little too drunk to be making such claims.” You concluded. “I think maybe it’s time to go home.” You hastily said, trying to change the topic.

“Mmm-mmm,” Morgan disapprovingly shook his head. “None of us should be driving right now. Even Reid.” Reid looked slightly offended at the comment, but he couldn’t deny it. He’d only had one drink, but everyone knew Reid was a lightweight.

“Why don’t you guys just crash here?” Garcia slurred. No one objected, so the sleeping arrangement was made. Morgan and Garcia would sleep in Garcia’s bed. JJ on the beanbag. Prentiss on the loveseat. And you and Reid on the couch.

“Me and Reid?” You asked Garcia.

“Uh-huh,” She nodded rapidly. “You’ll fit. Just spoon!” She said with joyful elation.

“Uh ohh, Reid and Y/N sittin’ in a tree. C-U-D-D-L-I-N-G.” Morgan jested.

“Shut up!” Reid chucked a pillow at Morgan’s face - which he caught before it even touched his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll just sleep on the floor.” Reid told you.

“No, don’t be silly. We share the couch on the jet all the time.” You told him. Covertly, you were hoping he wouldn’t argue against it. There were certainly worse things you could do than cuddle with Reid. Just as you wanted, he didn’t contend.

“Here.” He handed you your jeans and t-shirt, which you took but didn’t put back on.

“Do you mind if I stay in this? There’s no way I can fall asleep in my jeans,” He blinked hard as if to process what you were saying but didn’t dispute. “I’ll be back.” You disclosed while walking to Garcia’s bathroom to put on your shirt and take off your bra. You came back out, feeling a cold breeze. Unbeknownst to you, the cold air hardened your nipples, but this was not lost on Reid. He let himself get a glimpse of the sight while he laid on the couch, waiting for you to join him.

“You’re really gonna sleep in your pants?” You asked him, not even trying to imply anything sexual.

“Would you mind if I took them off?” He shyly questioned.

You shook your head as if to say, “No, not at all.”

He slid them down before you took your spot on the couch. While Reid’s back was against the backrest, your back was right up against his chest. This was the position you’d normally be in if you were on the jet. Something that surprisingly - the team never teased you for. It was as if everyone just accepted it as something normal. Something totally natural.

Except in this instance, Garcia’s couch was surprisingly not as wide as the jet’s, so you had to scoot back a little to fit. However, you didn’t anticipate how close Reid already was to you. So when you backed up, (for lack of a better term) you made ass-to-dick contact.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” You nervously blurted. Reid uncomfortably laughed it off.

“No, no. You’re fine.” He reassured you. It was enough to convince you to settle back down and cuddle up to Reid again.

Despite doing this countless amounts of times before, there was something about this time that made you feel differently. You thought that your heart might sooner beat out of your chest. The rhythm vibrated through your entire body, and you honestly worried that the beat was so loud that Reid could hear it. After 30 minutes of this, the whole house was knocked out - except for you. You harbored too much nervous energy to fall asleep.

“Are you feeling okay? You’re breathing really hard.” Reid murmured, his quiet voice shocking you. Damn it, he wasn’t asleep either? Leave it to him to pick up on your unnatural breathing patterns. You told Reid it was nothing, but he didn’t leave it alone. “How can I help you sleep?”Once more, you told him you were just fine. “Can I just try something? My mom used to do this for me when I couldn’t fall asleep,” You reluctantly agreed. “Turn around.” He softly commanded.

You did as asked, turning towards him. Now that you were face-to-face, Reid took his arm that was by his side before and put it over your body, with his hand on your back. You felt his warm touch move from between your shoulder blades, down your spine, all the way to the small of your back. He moved up and down repeatedly, sometimes adding pressure along the way. Your eyes closed at the pleasure.

“Does that feel good?” He asked sweetly, but even then, you couldn’t help but imagine him asking that same question in a very different scenario.

You couldn’t be bothered to speak real words, so you hummed in tranquility.

He kept doing this until he noticed your breathing started to slow down. It was working.

The last thought you had before falling asleep completely was of how you never wanted this moment to end.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“How long should we wait until we wake them?” You heard JJ ask. Her voice seemed so distant for some reason. “Mmm, I give it five more minutes.” Morgan’s voice chirped. Now his voice seemed to be closer.

“Should I take another picture?” Garcia asked. Wait a minute - her voice was louder now too.

You groggily opened your eyes, wincing at the brightness of your surroundings.

“Oh, I think Hot Stuff’s awake.” Morgan’s words sobered you up enough to lift your head and examine your surroundings.

Reid’s face was buried into your chest, while your hand was in his hair. Your leg wrapped around Reid’s lower body, with his hand hooked on the back of your knee, hiking it up even further and keeping your leg in its place. You began realizing just how provocative the scene was, so you startled yourself out of it. Like the clumsy goof you are, you rolled out of Reid’s embrace, but with no extra space to roll over onto, you tumbled to the floor gracelessly. This woke up Reid and made the four viewers hovering over the couch die laughing.

“Not funny.” You groaned, clutching your side in pain after collapsing onto the floor.

“What happened?” Reid yawned.

“What happened was you and Hot Stuff got pretty comfortable on Garcia’s sofa.” Morgan sounded way too happy to tell Reid this.

You looked back at Reid with a frown, noticing how he looked like he was a child that had just been caught doing something bad.

“Maybe next time we play Strip 2 Truths and a Lie, they’ll finally admit they like each other.” Prentiss giggled, mentioning you and Reid as if you weren’t in their presence.

“Be quiet!” You and Reid simultaneously yelped.

You buried your face into a throw pillow that had been discarded on the floor, probably from where you and Reid took up all the space on the couch. As you hid your face in embarrassment, you heard the quartet move away from the scene and into the kitchen, leaving you and Reid to your devices.

“Sorry about them.” He finally said. His voice was all raspy from where he’d just woken up and all you could think was - YOU’RE KILLING ME. How did he make everything he did so sexy?

“Me, too.” You uttered, removing the pillow from your face to hug it in your arms like a child hugging their toy. From behind you, Reid sat up and swung his legs to the front of the couch to stand up and help you up from your sitting position on the floor.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t regret anything,” He told you when you’d risen to eye level with him. You smiled to suggest that you felt the same way. “You know, maybe we could do this again . . . without the audience.” He cocked his head backward to gesture to the rest of the group.

“Only if you promise to give me back rubs again.” You beamed.

The look on Reid’s face was priceless. It was as if he’d just been told he won the lottery. You walked away from him with the same stupid grin on your face that he had on his.

“Hey, wait I’m gonna need that shirt back!” He called out from behind you as you moved swiftly into Garcia’s bathroom to change.

“I guess you’ll have to come pick it up from my apartment tonight.” You yelled back to him, lingering in the doorway. His smile was your answer.

Well - looks like you have plans tonight.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #one shot #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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sk1fanfiction · 3 years

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the many faces of tom riddle, part 2

-you dislike frank dillane’s portrayal of tom riddle only because you don’t think he’s attractive-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION (and this time, featuring a bit of armchair child psych from a student).

Wait, don’t clutch your pearls just yet. Compose yourself.

I am about to explain why it’s not actually that bad, and Dillane’s portrayal is vastly underappreciated.

I definitely agree that his portrayal comes off as ‘creepier’. It’s not helped by the stylistic decisions in the scene -- the smeary, green filter gives the scene a sinister quality.

Even Slughorn looks suspect here, which is somewhat appropriate, given that he is complicit in this crime.

Again, this scene is very much intended to be slightly off.

You’ll notice (and I’ll discuss this again when I talk about Coulson’s portrayal) that Dillane is almost always shot from at least slightly below, which makes the lower third of his face look bigger (and thus more menacing). The lighting also makes his eyes glow in a really unnatural way. There’s an echo-y effect to make his voice (and not Slughorn’s) sound unnerving.

People talk about how Coulson would have looked in this scene, and if he was filmed in the same way (monotone, smeary/shadowy filter, and always from below), he’d look a bit creepy, too.

But all of this, imo, is for a pretty good reason. Slughorn isn’t the POV character. Harry is. Harry is learning about how a young Lord Voldemort wheedled the secret of Horcruxes out of an unsuspecting teacher. Unlike in COS, he expects Riddle to be evil. And, so, Harry’s new perception of Tom Riddle literally colors how we perceive him.

Take this shot, for example: he does that head-tilt thing that Coulson does, and it’s actually... kind of... cute???

Imagine Dillane filmed from slightly above, like Coulson usually is, and it looks even more innocent. (I mean, come on, he does not look like he’s killed four people, does he?) It’s not hard to imagine teachers being taken in by this kind of act.

Even that little smirk he does when the camera (aka, Harry’s gaze) pans in, is for Harry’s benefit. No one else noticed that.

However, I still fail to find this creepy, like, at all. Yes, it’s a fake smile, but he’s portraying a different side of Tom Riddle to Coulson. Whereas, in COS, he’s in his vindictive, murderous element, where he’s free to express himself, in this scene, Tom Riddle is doing what he does best -- manipulating and managing appearances.

This entire scene is an act. And because Harry knows it’s an act, it should look a bit stilted.

From the Hepzibah Smith scene in the books: Voldemort smiled mechanically and Hepzibah simpered.

So, Harry is pretty adept at parsing Tom’s fake expressions.

But just look at the expressiveness in his face: he goes from brooding, he blinks, and his entire face changes to this charming (fake) smile.

At the risk of sounding elitist, I’m a bit tired of seeing the word ‘psychopath’, which is not an actual medical diagnosis recognised by any psychological or psychiatric institution, being tossed about, especially with reference to Tom Riddle (and from a neuroscience perspective, it’s doubly annoying). There’s no such thing as ‘insanity’ or ‘psychopathy’ or being ‘crazy.’

-although I use it too a shorthand in conversation to distinguish ‘canon’ Tom from his ‘softer’ OOC counterparts, I really shouldn’t-

Unfortunately, I’ve seen the ‘psychopath’ comment used time-and-time again as an excuse or a full explanation of ‘why Tom Riddle went evil’ (JKR in fact, has made a weird comment in an interview, basically saying that ‘psychopaths can’t be redeemed or learn adaptive coping skills’ or whatever), which really just goes to show the lack of understanding and compassion when personality disorders, especially, are concerned.

But what I like most about the opening of this scene, actually, is that first, listless expression. And this is where we get slightly into headcanon, but Tom Riddle is the opposite of a happy, mentally healthy teenager. By Dumbledore’s own admission, he has no real friends. He has no parental figures, no real attachments. Yes, he might derive some pride or enjoyment from being good at magic and top of his class and all that, but I really don’t think even Tom finds that truly fulfilling. There is nothing that makes him happy.

In fact, although some might perceive it as ‘creepy’, I think that listless expression is an accurate window into Tom’s psyche.

I know people aren’t big on Freud, but I think that he does make some interesting points (also, cut the guy some slack for being relatively open-minded for the Victorian Era, and inventing psychoanalysis and while yes he did say some sexist stuff, good luck finding a field of science that isn’t male-focused and makes crazy generalizations about women, especially back in the day) about the possible origins of thanatophobia, the fear of death.

According to Freud, thanatophobia is a disguise for a deeper source of concern -- he did not believe that people were capable of conceptualizing their own death to that extent. Instead, he believed that this phobia was caused by unresolved childhood conflicts that the sufferer cannot come to terms with or express emotion towards.

Now, I know Freud almost always attributes mental distress to childhood experiences, but I think in this case, it really has some merit.

According to attachment theory, the basis of how we form attachments in adulthood is dictated by learning it from experiences with caregivers in the first two years of life. We know Tom was born in an orphanage, and that he didn’t cry much as a baby, and subsequently, probably received very little attention. Compounded with possible genetic factors and his caregivers being afraid or wary of his magical abilities, he later struggled to form attachments because of this -- I would actually go so far as to say that by the time Dumbledore meets him, Tom Riddle is severely depressed.

And that flat affect and anhedonia, I think, comes over very well in Dillane’s portrayal. There’s kind of this resignation -- a very deep sadness and loneliness to his character.

Of course, he doesn’t derive any comfort or fulfillment from human interaction, because (to borrow the description from the Wikipedia article on ‘Reactive attachment disorder’, which Tom meets all the criteria for) he has a “grossly disturbed internal working model of relationships.” In other words, he is unresponsive to all offers of attachment because of this unacknowledged trauma.

(You could arguably class Tom as having an avoidant attachment style, but I think in his case the trauma and its effect on him are severe enough to call it disordered.)

RAD isn’t particularly well-characterized (especially neurologically) and quite new in the literature, but here are some links if anyone is interested in doing a bit of digging: Link 1 | Link 2 | Paper 1 | Paper 2

And, instead of trying to resolve this conflict in a healthy way, or at least recognize that this is why he can’t be happy and try to learn how to cope from there, he (a) represses the desire for human attachment and (b) funnels that negative emotion into being the fault of Death, the Grim Reaper (again, to borrow Freudian terms).

And we all know how that turned out...

(And now, this should go without saying, but psychoanalyzing fictional characters has nothing to do with assigning a morality to mental disorders. Mental illness is neither a cause nor an excuse for criminal behavior -- in the same way that the cycle of violence is a phenomenon, not an excuse. Tom Riddle did not become a genocidal murderer because, in common parlance, he was a ‘psychopath’ -- he was not necessarily ‘predisposed’ to evil and could just as easily chosen to not follow the path that he did -- instead, he willingly made poor choices. This is a descriptive analysis, not a justification -- a ‘how’, not a ‘why’)

Here’s a Carl Jung quote that articulates it better:

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

Yes, he’s a bit stiff (and a lot more formal than in COS during his *conversation* with Harry). But, and here comes the controversial bit, this is appropriate for a portrayal of a schoolboy in the 1940s. The upright posture is accurate -- respectful, polite -- everything Tom Riddle would have been expected to be (and even Coulson, in that scene with Dumbledore in COS, is quite stiff). Even the way he looks at Slughorn and maintains eye contact is very *respectful.*

And, Dillane (I think he’s seventeen or eighteen here) actually looks like a believable sixteen-year-old. I’m sorry, I love Coulson’s portrayal as well, but he looks around nineteen in COS; so in HBP, he probably would have looked at least twenty-two or so. (Sorry, not sorry).

This may be influenced by my own interpretation of the character (because I imagine Tom always looks young for his age, and Dillane fits that archetype, but I don’t think that’s very popular), but I think young Tom Riddle is supposed to be *cute* and a bit stiff/shy/awkward (being charming and awkward is very much possible), if you consider the way Dippet and Slughorn treat him.

To support this, he says very few words to Hepzibah Smith (in the book, that scene’s not in the movie), and is very... bashful and coy during the whole interaction? I think yes, he’s charismatic, but he’s not loud, suave, openly flirtatious or particularly verbose. Tom Riddle should have a quiet magnetism, and to me, that came across in Dillane’s portrayal.

"I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me," said Voldemort quietly, and Hepzibah gave another girlish giggle.

...

"Are you all right, dear?"

"Oh yes," said Voldemort quietly. "Yes, I'm very well. ..."

Even the ‘ugly, greedy look’ described in the books, when Slughorn starts spilling his secrets, is there. This is how he’s supposed to look! Slughorn glimpses it, but doesn’t understand its significance. Harry does.

“Slughorn looked deeply troubled now: He was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all.”

Remember the context of this moment, as well: He’s just discovered how to create multiple Horcruxes. Excuse him for looking a bit creepy (if not now, then when?).

Here’s two direct quotes of Harry’s impression of Tom Riddle in that scene:

“But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing.”

“Harry had glimpsed his face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human. . . .”

Tom Riddle’s Horcruxes are a direct metaphor for his refusal to allow himself to heal from his trauma -- instead, he continues to inflict destruction on himself and others.

His desire to continue creating more Horcruxes sort of resounds with the fact that self-harm can also become a compulsion.

I’d also like to digress a bit to discuss the Gaunt Ring, while we’re at it. While we’ve talked about his attachment issues in general, this discussion is particularly pertinent to father figures. And while Tom’s attachment issues are extensive, I think there’s ample evidence that as a child, he craved acknowledgement and acceptance from a father figure -- the man who gave him the only thing Tom truly owned -- his name. He would have had a vaguely defined mother figure in Mrs. Cole, perhaps.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was.... He didn’t like magic, my father ... He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage ... but I vowed to find him ... I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name ... Tom Riddle. ..."

We know that by June of 1943 (COS flashback) Tom has already uncovered the truth of his parentage; he knows he is the Heir of Slytherin via the Gaunt line, and he describes himself to Dippet as ‘Half-blood, sir. Witch mother, Muggle father.’

In Part 1, I discussed the high probability that as a presumed ‘Mudblood’, Tom Riddle was treated rather poorly in Slytherin House. But by this scene in the fall of 1943, he is surrounded by a group of adoring hangers-on. Why?

In my opinion; the Gaunt Ring. We know that Tom stopped wearing it after school, so its sentimental value couldn’t have been that great. We know he likes to collect objects (which I believe stems from his attachment issues -- he seeks comfort in things instead of other people).

Signet rings (such as the one belonging to Tutankhamun seen above) were used to stamp legal documents and such, in order to certify someone’s identify -- like an e-certificate, if you will. Like Tutankhamun’s ring, the Gaunt Ring bears an identifying symbol -- Marvolo Gaunt tells us proudly that it bears the Peverell family crest.

By the Middle Ages, anyone of influence, including the nobility, wore a signet ring. Rings in antiquity were auspicious -- they signified power, legitimacy, and authority. And so, I believe that all the Sacred Twenty-Eight families would have worn these, too.

And so, bearing the Gaunt Ring would have established Tom Riddle, symbolically and in the eyes of the Sacred Twenty-Eight (his future supporters and followers), as the legitimate heir to the House of Gaunt. This is why, I believe, Tom coveted the ring as soon as he saw it -- not just because it was a family heirloom, and not just because he thought it was a pretty toy for his collection.

(He curses it so that no one else but him can wear the Gaunt Ring safely.)

This is why, to make the legitimization literal as well as symbolic, Tom murders his father and grandparents. It’s not just an act of vindictive, murderous rage due to his perception of being rejected by his father (although it is that, too). And so, Tom, abandoning his search for a father figure (and possibly also giving up on the possibility to allow himself to heal from his own personal trauma rather than continue to inflict it on others), ‘cleanses’ his bloodline, to make himself truly legitimate. It’s rather telling that instead of affirming his legitimacy as a Riddle, which would have put him in line for a nice inheritance, and hey -- money is money -- (thus accepting his half-blood status), he simply kills them all. He has done all the murdering he needs to become immortal (and he hasn’t had the discussion about multiple Horcruxes yet); but yet, he does it again. Frightening stuff.

(Just look how the others look at Tom. All but the one to his left -- possibly Nott, Rosier, or Mulciber -- have their torsos turned towards him. Their attention is on him, while he knowingly regards the viewer/Harry. Tom seems a little uncomfortable with the attention.).

“And there were the half-dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.”

...

“Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.”

...

“Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader.”

The ‘gang’ are true hangers-on; Tom doesn’t seem to pay them much attention.

So, if not via careful flattery or charisma, the attraction must be status.

And perhaps yet more telling...

"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing." “A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor.”

That, in my opinion, is as good as we’re going to get as proof that Tom’s shiny new signet ring (and by extension, his new status) made a big impression on his fellow students.

So, when he returns to Hogwarts, he is ‘pureblood’. He is cleansed of his Muggle roots, and becomes the legitimate heir of the House of Gaunt, now well on his way to becoming Lord Voldemort...

Watch the scene again, with a critical eye, and imagine Slughorn’s perspective, instead of Harry’s. There’s nothing creepy about Tom Riddle... unless you know what he is...

Strip away all the effects of Harry’s gaze (and notice, here he’s still looking at Harry), and he’s quite the charmer, actually.

(I will concede that I don’t like the promotional images where they have him looking like he’s up to no good. And I do wish he blinked once in a while.)

My challenge to you: Rewatch the scene with an open mind, and let me know if you agree that Dillane’s portrayal comes off as depressive rather than ‘creepy.’ And if not, why do you dislike his portrayal?

#tom riddle #character analysis #character study #the many faces of #tom marvolo riddle #frank dillane #i literally could not find any pictures other than these #literal crumbs i swear #i know this is unpopular #people really dislike him i guess #watch the scene again with an open mind i promise you'll like it #i seriously do think he did a good job #tw: mention of child abuse #tw: mention of self-harm #i'm not trying to oversimplify things but you can't deny that maybe if tom was hugged as a child it would have helped #say it with me: psychopathy is not an actual medical diagnosis #it's actual more of a legal/criminal justice term #and people just use it as a synonym for 'evil' at this point so the original meaning is pretty much obscured #and personality disorders should not be moralized #people with personality disorders are not 'evil'

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work-of-waking-up · 3 years

Text

In Defense of the Psychopath

Alright, wanna venture into my crazy ass brain? I’m going to start by saying one thing that will set the tone for everything else that follows: Villanelle is not a psychopath in the way that we currently understand them. Why am I even bothering to write about a fictional character, you ask? Because representation is important. Media portrayal of various mental and behavioral health topics (including ones that people might not think need to be discussed) is important and this show has a big audience. I also just want to contribute to the conversations that are taking place because I am seeing A LOT of them and the reason for that I believe boils down to the fact that Jodie makes Villanelle so relatable and people want to know what that means and looks like for them. Even those who felt they could relate to Sandra’s Eve, or the relationship between the two, maybe questioned what that meant the further they went down the path with them. “It’s probably a bad thing I relate to a psychopath, right? But she can’t be a psychopath because she cries and she feels things! Psychopaths don’t cry, which means she isn’t realistic so therefore it’s okay that I relate to her! Right? Or are my assumptions about psychopaths and people with antisocial personality disorder wrong? I relate to Eve but look what she is underneath it all...so does that mean I relate to that part of her too?” Not only is villanelles character relatable, but people see the freedom inherent within her, the freedom that Eve sees, and they realize that, at least on some level, they want it too. The show has (unintentionally I think) created a massive dialogue which is super cool and you can tell everyone involved on the show is aware of that now, I mean they have a consulting psychiatrist so I think that speaks for itself. This is less of a commentary on the character herself and whether or not she is a genuine psychopath, and more so a commentary on the conversations she has inspired and why... For the record, this is literally just my opinion sprinkled with a few facts, nothing else.

So, the term psychopath gets thrown around in the show, more so in the beginning, MI6 explicitly labels Villanelle this way, even going so far as to use her in a presentation about psychopaths, although I think that was more so to gauge Eve’s response than anything else. The reality of Villanelle, which we come to learn, is that nobody has been able to get close enough to really know the truth. Anna and Konstantin both got close but we never hear either of them use that word (Konstantin says it once but he clearly doesn’t mean it, it was more of an attempted manipulation tactic). They make it clear that she has, and can, and WILL cause damage, but that’s as far as they go. Eve is getting close and she tells Villanelle when they first meet that she knows Villanelle is a psychopath but it’s obvious from Eve's behavior and things she says later on that she truly doesn’t believe Villanelle is what everyone says she is. It’s easier to label her as a psychopath because that alienates and isolates her and her behavior completely. She is an outlier with behavioral anomalies and therefore it isn’t necessary to look any closer. For MI6 and others (not talking about the shows creators) to label Villanelle as a psychopath is easy, it’s lazy, it’s reductive, it serves a single purpose... a means to an end. They (anyone other than Eve basically) simply do not care about Villanelle’s truth. But as an audience we are lucky enough to see more of her with each episode. The psychopath label begins to fade and Oksana is what’s left. We know based on what she has said that she is aware that people think she is a psychopath, a monster, a person built to kill. It’s not always easy to decide that who you are is different from who you’ve always been told you are, especially given her history. Villanelle hasn’t told us yet if she thinks (or knows) that she is a psychopath, but it’s clear towards the end of last season that she no longer wants to be the person that they (meaning the twelve, Dasha, Konstantin, etc.) created. We see moments where she clearly has no remorse and clearly enjoys what she does, but then we have little moments sprinkled in between where she very obviously struggles, even if its short lived. And those moments are important. We have the moment where she struggles with the choice to shoot Konstantin, saying he is a good person, she thinks. This comes shortly after a conversation she had where Irina tells Villanelle she thinks she is a good person because she is sad, so we know she is thinking about it, we know the awareness is there, and it becomes more and more there as times goes on. I like to think of it in terms of having moments that are pure Villanelle (ie the way she killed Inga in the Russian prison), and then we have moments that are Oksana, vulnerable and emotional. Villanelle is a creation and a mask whereas oksana is the truth. Those moments are starting to really mean something. I'm not even going to start with her trip to find her family, that’s its own thing, but it's a Really Big Thing.

So. Villanelle is not a psychopath in the way that we currently understand and perceive them. Yes, she displays psychopathic traits, and yes, she absolutely has antisocial personality disorder. I read an article where the psychiatric consultant for the show (makes it pretty obvious how hard they worked to make Villanelle as realistic as possible) said that the Villanelle in Luke Jenning’s books scored a 32 on Hare’s psychiatric checklist, but I like to think (and I think a lot of people would agree) that number is a bit high, at least for Jodie’s Villanelle, maybe not even hitting 30 at all (close though, let’s be real lol). The max score is 40 which would be a fully blown primary psychopath. For reference, Ted Bundy scored 39. This checklist is flawed though, mostly created and based off the prison population. Which is why it isn’t used as a proper diagnostic tool. 32 is apparently extraordinarily high for a female (think Aileen Wuornos), which brings me to my next point which is that because it’s hard to measure a lot of the classic traits objectively, there is not a ton of solid data surrounding psychopathy, and even less of it is on female psychopaths. Like most things in life, psychopathy exists on a spectrum, there are levels and layers. It’s not black and white, there’s no definitive test (psychopathy isn’t even in the DSM-5 because as I said earlier it’s extremely hard to measure objectively) and it's important to distinguish between someone who exhibits psychopathic traits and someone who is actually an identifiable psychopath. Chances are high that someone you know displays at least one characteristic shared with psychopaths and this doesn’t make them one.

I think what’s important about this is that mental disorders (mental illness/personality disorders/etc.) of any kind are much more nuanced than a lot of people tend to think they are. That they exist less in black and white and more in shades of grey. Jodie Comer is absolutely remarkable for showcasing that through portraying the different layers of Villanelle. Her performance is a literal gift. We cannot keep thinking and acting like we know everything about how a person thinks, feels, and behaves based strictly and entirely on one label. The thing that has stuck out to me the most, the reason I decided to even write this bullshit babble, is that one of the most searched topics about the show is whether or not it’s realistic that Villanelle cries, and honestly how sad is that? That makes me sad for V. Is it more realistic for her to develop connections and cognitive empathy if she was made into a psychopath vs if she was born that way? Is there a legitimate difference between the two? And how do we even decide which one is applicable for someone? It’s important to add that antisocial personality disorder is not the same thing as psychopathy or sociopathy. You can have aspd and not be a psychopath. Research has shown that about only a third of those diagnosed with aspd would meet criteria to be considered a psychopath. Society is not doing a great job at getting people to understand this. But to be fair, understanding personality disorders specifically has been somewhat problematic, a lot of diagnostic confusion and overlap between disorders. A LOT of work needs to be done. But as far as portrayals go, society has strictly chosen to go the route of giving us psychopathic characters and having them be inherently violent, incapable of remorse, feelings, or change. Poverty of all emotions. Subhuman. They are made out to be so abnormal and unrelatable to the point where the character of Villanelle has sparked so much debate and fascination simply because she exists in a way that actually IS relatable...and layered and beautiful and thrilling. We thought she would be the bad guy and yet we root for her at every turn, we cry for her, we want good things for her! We see her darkness and without question or hesitation we forgive it. She makes us question what we’ve previously been shown. Questioning whether or not it’s realistic that she acts the way she does is less important than questioning our own personal assumptions and beliefs and where those come from. I think that’s awesome. Villanelle is truly a gift. She is hands down one of the most well written fictional characters, which is saying a lot considering when you put something, or someone, in a box it doesn’t leave tons of room for expansion. and I honestly don’t even really need to say this, but.. Jodie Comer.

#killing eve #villanelle #jodie comer #eve polastri #sandra oh #villaneve #feel free to rb #if you want #oksana astankova

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lenacker · 3 years

Text

Lovebirds

Summary: Captain Levi and Petra’s skill in titan-killing was definitely admirable but romance-wise? They’re just idiots. Erd was definitely much smarter than them combined. And he spent about 17 years to realize he’s in love with his childhood bestie.

Word Count: 1336

FFN | AO3

For two of supposedly the best soldiers in Survey Corps, Petra and Captain Levi were unreasonably dumb. Just a couple of idiots. Like, seriously. Assessing the battlefield and taking actions accordingly? Easy-peasy. Piece of cake.

Realizing they consider each other as more than superior officers and subordinates?

Nah.

Petra has been crushing on Captain for as long as Erd remembers. It’s not even a secret. Probably Captain Levi was the only one who didn’t know because, as he said before, he’s very dumb romance-wise. Petra went from a ‘Humanity’s Strongest’ hardcore fan to a disappointed fan (because he’s not as great as she thought-short and irritating), to just fell freely in love. If he got a coin for every time she mentions Captain in her sentences, he would be super-rich. Wait- that could be a fun dare for their next Friday night truth or dare!

She’s a very nice girl (woman, she definitely would scold him if he calls her girl once more. I’m a full-grown woman, Erd! Stop treating me like a teenage girl!) but her nice-ness increased tenfold for their very pleasant captain. She said he’s unapproachable, but she’s always the one who approaches him whenever he’s in one of his ‘you’re all so stupid, a waste of space and I don’t know why I agreed to take you little shits as my squad’ mood.

Every morning, she makes tea for all of the squad members - but with the captain’s preference. Black tea, with all its amazing earthy aroma, with a dash of sugar. She pours it to each cup (With your stupid manly egos, we would run out of the tea stock within a week! Not you, sir.), starting with the Captain’s of course so it’s warm and nice, and fresh.

If Erd doesn’t know them better, he’d say they have a secret-lover-rendezvous almost every night. They talk in his office until late at night, accompanied by another pot of tea and Captain’s stack of paperwork. He’s more of a hit-and-kill person rather than a sit-and-write person, and though he’s not gonna admit it out loud, Petra’s gift in writing and her diligence is about the only reason he can keep up with his paperwork.

There’s no way to know what else happened behind closed doors, but they never show any weird behavior or something like crumpled clothes, hickeys (and honestly it’s really hard to imagine the clean freak captain Levi doing not-so-clean activities).

Anyway, despite her obvious feeling to their superior, she’s surprisingly professional about it. She didn’t suddenly become a flustered-girl-in-love around the Captain, still the same fiery, determined, hard-working Petra.

Due to her smaller stature and different gender than everyone in the squad, when they first train together, Captain Levi tends to give her less or easier job and workout sets. To say Petra was angry was … an understatement. She felt insulted, confronts him and some riot ensues, and honestly, it’s still a mystery to him how the Captain managed to gain Petra’s respect back.

(Gotta investigate it! What a saucy subject, maybe he can ask Hange about it later)

On the contrary, Captain Levi was the one less professional about his feelings. He either sends Petra to the least dangerous condition possible or the closest to him so he could save her anytime. Not that Petra needs it that often anyway.

He talked to her with almost-affectionate (and by almost he means almost non-distinguishable), lower tone. Erd couldn’t even remember the last time he cussed her out, and he hung out with them pretty often. That's a huge thing, considering the intimidating man’s tendency to call people shitty-[noun] and using potty language as daily conversation.

Also, he’s suddenly a bit more chatty to her? Maybe Petra's friendliness started to affect him. Erd was the second-in-command, yet his interaction with his superior mostly consisted of strategies, formations, and a lot of ‘Erd, you’re in command’ with his classic cold, demanding tone. Oluo was often too scared to talk to him and Gunther was naturally silent.

But with Petra, the Captain could say not really necessary, trivial things like “Petra, you should write to your parents more often, they don’t live forever”, or “Do you think Erwin is in a good mood, I’d like to ask him for a new cleaning supplies fund“, or “Petra, brew the tea exactly 4 minutes to get the best taste”

Well, maybe that last two examples were important.

He wondered how much more time they needed to realize their mutual feelings. Erd himself took about 17 years to admit he considered Emily more than a childhood bestie. That’s bad enough. But he definitely was better at romance-field than both Captain Levi and Petra, for he knows their feelings more than they do. God knows how many years it will take before they become more than superior officers and subordinates.

Hmmm. Maybe they just need a little push. Or a lot.

Erd walked into the hall, it was the middle of the night and he’s hungry. He still had some food from his latest visit home, but he absolutely hates eating alone. Maybe there’s someone there he could share with. He basically knew everyone in the Survey Corps, so it didn’t really matter who that was.

Oh, actually it does matter.

There they are, the two lovebirds. You know, because they’re small and good at ‘flying’. They’re in that state where Petra gave the Captain his cup of tea and they just stare at each other’s eyes for 4 seconds too long. Erd cleared his throat.

“Good night, fellow insomniac soldier! Captain.”

Captain Levi just nodded his head slightly, Petra smiled.

“Hi, Erd. Why aren’t you sleeping? Missing the missus?”, she took two more cups, setting them side to side to pour the tea in.

“I always miss her, but that’s not why I can’t sleep. I’m starving, but can’t eat these chips alone so I’m looking around for eat-mates!”

Captain put his cup down (Erd still didn’t understand why he held the cup that way. Just training his fingers’ strength?), “Just don’t let the disgusting grease stain my papers”

“Done!” Who wanted to get near the paperwork anyway? Definitely not Erd. “You want some, Petra?”

She just grinned sheepishly, pointing the paper near her with a tilt of her head, “Sorry, don’t wanna stain them”

Ah, that’s a bummer. He really wanted to have at least an eat-mate.

“You sure? It’s divine, you know. Remember the curry you liked last time? These taste similar but better”

She shakes her head once more.

“I could feed you?” He’s really desperate now, he really needed to eat!

Oh. Maybe that’s not a good idea. If looks could kill, he would be dying right here, on the dirty floor by the scary Captain’s look. Alright. No more making that man jealous then.

Petra, oblivious of the shorter man’s reaction because she focused on stirring the two cups without spilling any drop of tea, just pouted, “Erd, I’m not a child! You don’t need to feed me! Just sit here and eat while we chat and do paperwork. Better than eating alone on your bed, right?”

Hmm, maybe. But he didn’t wanna spoil their moments together. So he just acted disappointed, with his best shoulder-slump and kicked puppy look.

“I guess I’ll just go back to bed hungry then, you guys are no fun. Good night Petra, Captain”

His steps towards his bedroom stopped by the Captain’s cold voice,

“Oi”

Erd turned back, “Yes, Captain?”

“Take over the training tomorrow. I need to go take care of something Sina.”

“Oh, okay, sir. You wanna take Petra with you?”

And accidentally get into a scenario where you two realize your feelings or are forced to sleep in one bed?

“Huh? Why would I take Petra? You want some time off, Petra? You should just tell me.”

See? He’s too caring!

“No, sir! I’m completely fine!”

“Okay, I’ll brief you all later. We probably get a new puny member soon”

A/N : This turned out about 3 times longer than I thought it would, writing Erd is a lot of fun!

#Rivetra #levi x petra #my fic #canonverse #Erd Gin #Eld Jinn #Erd is the ultimate shipper #fanfiction #Rivetra fic #Just tiny idiots in love #mutual pining #romance #levi ackerman #petra ral

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pompompurin1028 · 3 years

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Oh my God!! I had never thought of it that way, that’s awesome! Good catch, Kat :o

That is so true, we read Yozo’s life and deeds completely through his own eyes therefore we can’t treat it as an objective narrative. When this is combined with all the analyses you made yesterday, it’s all coming together and this is the best feeling ever, when I first read your response I went crazy with euphoria😭

And exactly! We can definitely distinguish these two narratives -Yozo’s and the woman’s- in the last scene under the sunset. Dazai, for some reason, always denies his good intentions and is “blinded to his better side” as you said and I totally adore this way of putting it. I really hope Atsushi will be able to bring him back to reality😔

I mean, of course he’s not the most snow white person out there, he still has really gray morals, but isn’t this already an incredible step considering that he was born in pitch black? He needs to see how much he’s achieved since then, but he still feels guilty and this totally blocks the good parts of his journey in his mind, which is probably why he always has that façade to keep him from breaking down. Just like how Yozo had this façade of “clowning” even though he was feeling empty inside all while entertaining people and seeming so cheerful. This clowning thing was a really beautiful parallelism between BSD Dazai and Yozo.

Exactly😭 For someone as traumatised as Atsushi, that poor cinnamon roll is really so precious with his amount of trust and kindness🥺 And yeah… There’s no way I would be able to 100% restore my trust for him -if I had it in the first place, of course, you never know with Dazai😂-, I would question constantly if he’s planning new things with several villains “for the sake of the city”, and this is just what Atsushi says, he denies this as well like what- then why😭 He owes a really good explanation to the ADA, tbh. I hope they treat this subject in S3 or I’ll get really mad if he just gets away with it as if people didn’t die because of his shenanigans😤

And oh my God! I never knew that! This is really intriguing, I’m totally on Dazai-sensei’s side on this matter, Run, Melos! will be so interesting to read :o And as always, I’d love to read your analysis on it😌

And that’s so true😞 His plans are always so complex and detailed that if the littlest thing goes wrong, it would all be over, I mean, trusting that Chuuya punches him in the face or he’ll die?? He’s really walking on thin ice there haha. Which, of course, comes with great stress. And omg I LOVED THAT ANALYSIS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING💕 I reblogged it privately to come back to it whenever I start having doubts or feeling bad about Dazai which happened way too often even before Dead Apple, I just couldn’t keep a healthy relationship with him like I do with Kunikida I have no idea why this will really be a useful thing to come back to 💫 It pains me to see that how much he suffers in reality yet he’s not even able to acknowledge that it’s not his fault😞 (you can gimme all your analyses don’t be shy👀)

I’m planning on reading this one, it has several chapters and they all seem really explanatory. (I hope linking system works in asks🤔)

Exactly, I honestly used to miss all these about Akutagawa and just overlook him, consider him as a mere invincible rabid dog with an unhealthy obsession, whose ability is just to murder. But that’s not true at all, he’s more than his ability. To be honest, I think this movie made this sentence valid for everyone, especially if the ability is too strong, one always tends to consider them as their ability and nothing else, but that’s not true, their abilities are a part of them but they don’t assure their existence. Each one of them is more than their ability and I loved seeing that, I even felt sad when Aku regained his Rashōmon😭

Haha, always!!❤️ Never hesitate to share anything about any theory/headcanon you have, I love discussing them🥰

These asks and responses are getting longer and longer but I’m not complaining😂

Thank you so much!🥺 That makes me really happy that you said that!

And yes exactly! We have to make note that the novel is written in an I-novel narrative, and like all first person perspectives, they are unreliable. And "crazy with euphoria", that makes me so happy to hear😭💕

But yes, we can clearly see the distinct difference between how Yozo sees himself, vs how the woman sees him. (Side note: And one of the reasons why I love this book despite its dark themes and narratives, is that it talks about the goodness of humanity that still exists in even the worst people. Dazai-sensei's narration of Yozo is written in a way that almost makes us hate him. But we have to always be reminded that despite this, there are goodness, even in people like Yozo, which I felt is an amazing reminder) And his own blindness to his better side is obviously self-destructive, as seen in the novel, and I believe that if Dazai continues to see this way, he will not be able to heal despite following what Oda wants him to do. No, he first has to face his past, and as you said he has to recognize how far he has come, even though he is still learning, he is still changing. Like all other characters in Dead Apple, Dazai is also facing his past, or more so an introduction to having to face his past, as I believe that Atsushi had also said that he hopes that Dazai can put his past behind him or something similar to that. And I personally feel that Dazai would have a happy ending because unlike in the novel, he has someone (Atsushi) to remind him of his goodness, the fact that he can go beyond what he is in the past. I just love Dead Apple so much😭

And the clowning part breaks my heart too... In addition to being a facade to stop others from seeing how empty he is inside, which would deviate himself from being "human". It gives me a saddening understanding that Dazai is keeping everyone at a distance. Although he wants others to understand him, and his whole existence is basically a cry for help, he fears being hurt, or at least that's what I believe how Yozo thinks. And it should be noted that the act of clowning, can also be seen in The Setting Sun as well, which he once again uses a mask to attempt to blend into society, yet knowing that he'll still be different from the rest of them

Also one thing I also realized as I am writing this is how Dazai-sensei intentionally in a sense villanizes himself (as it is semi-biographical) as well as Yozo in No Longer Human, and I can't help but wonder if this is another parallel to Dead Apple?🤔

But unfortunately, the consequences of him making that meticulous plan which endangered everyone will not be resolved, as it should be noted that this is a sort of spinoff from the main storyline. But in a sense I like the ending it gave us, as it allows open interpretation. And I feel that it also might symbolize the fact that all the main characters in the movie are still growing, are still learning and are continuing on their paths to face their pasts... And what I think is also quite important to note that is there's also a sense of trust Dazai gives to the people involved in his plans, he trusts them to make that exact move to make his plan whole. And also, what also makes me sad is that Dazai seems to be asking for forgiveness for what he did during dead apple, at least that's what it sounds like to me as he said: "Atsushi what I did earlier-"

And I totally agree that it is impossible to restore full trust back to Dazai. That itself is impossible, for it is a disillusionment, it is a stage you cannot go back to. But and I agree with Dazai-sensei, I believe that this could help Dazai see the better parts of humanity like when he said to Oda, that the good side is really more beautiful.

And I'm so glad to know that you want to save it🥺 It can definitely be hard to see Dazai's good side at times, he is quite confusing and is easily misunderstood ngl. But sometimes I think he intentionally does that so no one can see through his true intentions, to keep himself at a distance, while at the same time wanting others to see through him, to help him😔

And oo thank you for the analysis! I'll definitely have to read it soon☺ Also if you have any analysis that you'd like to discuss or want me to know, feel free to drop them in my ask box as well!

And yes exactly! That about Aku is so beautifully said.

And honestly I'm not complaining either haha. These have been quite fun🥰

#asks💌#Req🎻#bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #dead apple #bungou stray dogs analysis #bsd theories #kat rambles #I have a lot to say about no longer human and it shows haha

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hiyaluronic · 3 years

Text

Unnamed Sentinel/Guide Au (partial draft)

Nile eyed Nicky’s plate with envy, her nose twitching at the pleasant aroma of garlic and the slightly nutty, pungent smell of cumin and turmeric; the spicy aromatics filling the small dining room and causing her stomach to grumble excitedly. She turned from Nicky’s plate to stare down at her own in dismay. The grilled chicken breast, steamed broccoli, and rich buttery baked potato were doing nothing to satiate her cranky stomach.

“Why does Nicky get the good stuff?” She hadn’t meant to sound childish but Joe’s home cooked chicken curry looked a thousand times more appetizing than the standard restaurant-style meal situated on her plate.

Joe grinned and winked at Nicky who in turn rolled his eyes in response, “Because he’s being punished.”

Nile sighed and poked halfheartedly at her chicken, “Then can I be punished too?”

Andy snorted into her wine glass, pulling the stemmed glass away and clearing her throat against the burn of alcohol. “Trust me, you don’t.”

“If you say so.” Nile murmured and reluctantly cut into her chicken. She took a few bites, her gaze lingering on Nicky’s plate which sat untouched, wondering how exactly homemade food was a punishment.

“C’mon, Nicolò,” Joe prodded, forgetting his own meal and using his fork to spear a piece of sauce drenched chicken from Nicky’s plate. “I promise it will not be as bad as Baton Rouge.”

Nile perked up, curious. “What happened in Baton Rouge?”

Andy smiled deviously and leaned over to Nile. “Booker’s attempt at cerole cooking. His Jambalaya is still pending a patent as a lethal weapon. Joe and I ended up with food poisoning, Nicky on the other hand....”

Nicky swallowed, eyeing the innocent piece of poultry dangling from Joe’s fork with trepidation, eyes following the curry sauce as it slowly dripped onto the tablecloth. “I ended up zoning because the idiota, mixed up chile peppers with bhut jolokia.”

Nile scrunched her face. “Bahht Zo-lu-key-ya?”

“Ghost peppers.” Andy simplified, leaning back into the kitchen chair and crossing her arms, watching Joe shake the chicken enticingly in front of Nicky with mild amusement.

Nile cringed and swallowed, her mouth watering at the imagined heat of said pepper. “Shit.”

“Indeed.” Nicky replied with a sigh before leaning forward and letting his mouth wrap enticingly around Joe’s fork - the pink of his lips covering the silver of the utensil suggestively - before ever so slowly pulling back, smirking when he noticed Joe’s eyes narrow at his actions. Nicky closed his eyes and let the juices from the chicken settle on his tongue; the sweetness of clove and cinnamon dancing across his tongue and running as a current under the powerful flavor of turmeric, bay leaves, and cumin. He sucked the sauce and juice from the chicken, tilting his head back and moaning in pleasure when the slight underlying warmth of garlic and mustard seed tickled his taste buds.

He mentally smirked when he felt Joe kick his shin under the table, a quiet behave drifting from his husband's lips, the heady scent of musk saturating the air between them and sending a jolt of excitement through Nicky. He could hear Nile coughing awkwardly across the table; a deep bass to the quiet trill of Andy’s accompanying laughter. Why should he be the only one to be punished?

He felt the air shift and change before he heard Joe sigh. “Come on, Nico. You know how this goes, what’s the secret ingredient?”

Nicky frowned at the question and chewed the chicken, unsure. He could taste something off. Taste something out of place underneath the normal spices, something sharp and bitter - almost medicinal.

“I’m assuming it’s not love?” Nile said to Andy, who snickered.

Nicky swallowed and blinked open his eyes, turning to Joe, “Clove, cinnamon, turmeric, bay leaf, cumin. Just a hint of garlic and mustard... and...”

Joe ticked off the ingredients with his finger, “And…?”

Nicky licked his lips and tried to focus on the odd taste, he knew it, he just couldn’t place the where and what, and most notably the name. He hated having to sort through Joe’s cooking because there were so many different flavors in the world and it was sometimes very hard to distinguish between herbs and spices; and, while he loved his husband, Joe liked to make it as hard as possible. The reasoning? Because it eased his husband's mind knowing that he could detect even the subtlest of flavors - which he would agree. Being able to detect the minute differences in flavors between herbs and poisons had saved them many unneeded deaths over the various decades.

But, still…

“It tastes like soap.”

“Seriously, Joe!” Nile admonished, eyes wide in concern. “You put soap in his food?”

“It’s not soap!” Joe was quick to reply, just a little offended at the accusation. “I would never do such a thing!”

“Uggh.” Nicky shivered in disgust when it finally clicked what the offending flavor was, “Cilantro!”

“Very good, Nico!” Joe leaned forward and kissed his husband happily. “And now what sense shall we work on next, hmmm?”

Nicky laughed softly with a shake of his head, “Joe, it was only one zone with a great many number of years between my last one. I promise I do not need-”

“It is not about what you need, you have become lax in these last few decades, hayati, you’re starting to rely too heavily on the technology of today. And it worries me.” Joe explained, running a hand through his beard and scratching at the skin underneath. “You were very lucky that Nile had been there to keep an eye on you until Andy and I arrived but what would have happened if Nile had been indisposed of? You would have been left vulnerable and that’s just not acceptable.”

“Cuore Mio.” Nicky murmured, his hand reaching over to grasp Joe’s tightly in his absently running his thumb over Joe’s knuckles.. He didn’t need heightened senses to know that his love was feeling anxious but the sulfuric reek permeating the air around Joe just confirmed it.

Andy nodded, seeming to agree with the idea. “Joe’s right, Nicky. We have to be able to trust that on a mission you won’t conk out on us. A refresher might do some good and it’ll help Nile know what to do when Joe is unavailable to pull you back.”

Nile held her hand up and cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the small group. “Speaking of. I was promised an explanation?”

“That you were, Nile.” Nicky agreed, squeezing Joe’s hand with a gentle smile. “There is sadly not much to tell.”

“Oh, hell no. You don’t get to reveal Nicky is a superhero-” Not a superhero, Nile “and then not tell me how that happened.”

Joe and Nicky shared a look, Joe raised his shoulder slightly in question to which Nicky tilted his head, his gaze flicking towards Nile before returning to Joe with a small nod.

Joe sighed and pulled his hand free from Nicky’s, settling back against his chair, and focusing his sight on the darkened splotches of curry staining the tablecloth. “It was many, many months after we had grown tired of constant death and had laid down our arms against one another. At the time we thought our situation was part of our immortality, it wasn’t until we met Andromache and Quynh that we understood otherwise.”

Nicky smiled fondly, remembering the circumstances that had surrounded their meeting of their sisters in arms. It had been a sweltering summer, the air so thick that even the simple act of breathing would leave a person exhausted and uncomfortably drenched. Time had worn away at a lot of his memories but the vibrant scent of the briny waters lapping at the sands along the coast, the salty air pushed inland by the balmy waves of the Mediterannean that ate away at wood and stone alike and the overbearing smell of seagrasses that would drift upward when low tide would hit and carrying the faint tinge of dead sea life along with it were still vivid in his memory.

But what he remembered the most about that first meeting - what still haunted him and fueled his nightmares almost a millennium later - was the utter terror of not being able to hear Joe’s heartbeat between one moment and the next. His breath still faltered when he thought back to the utter panic that had grabbed hold and burrowed deep into his chest at the mere thought of losing the one person who could make him feel human.

“Andromache and Quynh absconded with Joe before we had the chance to be formally introduced.”

Nile balked at Nicky’s words but at the minute twitch to the corners of his mouth and the way she noticed his eyes darken just a tad, not quite in anger but in an almost accusatory way, had her turning to Andy flabbergasted, “You what!?

“In all fairness,” Andy started, her hands raised in supplication, “it was just to test a theory. We’d trailed the two of them for days, trying to get a read on what kind of buffoons they were outside of the dreams.”

“We were not buffoons.” Joe huffed, affronted, eyes ticking to Nicky looking for agreement.

Andy quirked an eyebrow, “You literally killed each other dozens of times over the span of 6 months. Quynh and I had even started making bets on it. So, hence, bah-foons.”

“We were-” Joe trailed off, looking to Nicky for the right way to answer without confirming Andy’s rather accurate description.

Nicky turned from Joe’s gaze to Andy’s with a frown, “-working through some things.”

“Sure, language barrier, sectarianism, genocide…” Andy said, ticking each item off with the raise of one of her fingers.

“Getting off topic here, guys. I’m assuming there’s more to the story then Andy and Quynh running off with Joe in tow?”

With a sigh, Andy looked towards Nile. “There were… are stories. Legends really, about persons with the capability to perceive the world around them on a level unseen by us mere humans.”

“Sounds amazing.” Nile said.

“One would think until you realize nothing can be such without its own hindrances.” Nicky explained with a wince, “What Andy and Quynh were testing was to see if Joe and I had bonded as guide and sentinel.”

“Bonded?”

“A sentinel’s abilities are latent, most that have this ability will never know because a sentinel is born through harsh conditions and need.” Andy explained at Nile’s question. “But if there is no guide, no way for a sentinel to maintain a baseline, the world becomes an enemy to them and they either zone or turn feral.”

“Feral? Like...turn rabid?”

Nicky nodded at Nile, “An abhorred definition but yes. We have only ever seen a feral sentinel once and it ended with him falling to my blade.”

“Okay.” Nile pursed her lips trying to gather her thoughts, “Okay so Andy and Quynh took Joe to make sure you were bonded and not feral?”

“You have to understand Nile, we saw them kill each other for months. With so much senseless violence Quynh and I had to make sure that the world hadn’t bred a broken and untamed immortal.”

#the old guard fanfiction #the old guard #sentinel/guide au #Nicky x Joe #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #nile freeman #andromache the scythian #my stuff #still trying to work through this #still untitled #and hoping that if I post some of it I will get the creative juices flowing so I can finish this #extended preview because I'm still trying to finish this lol #WRITING IS HARD #THERE IS SO MUCH LOOKING UP HOW THINGS SMELL AND LOOK #OMG I LOOKED UP WHAT ANXIETY SMELT LIKE AND WHAT ROTTEN MILK TASTES LIKE AND JUST #GAAAAH

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ameliarating · 4 years

Note

Since you brought the topic of Untamed/Hogwats houses I have to ask: do you have opinions about how other Untamed characters would be sorted into the Hogwarts Houses? (because I love how you put XXC into Ravenclaw and SL into Hufflepuff and I want others too)

Absolutely! Here comes a nearly-but-not-quite comprehensive list!

So we have Xiao Xingchen, the Ravenclaw who acts like a Gryffindor. Xiao Xingchen is primarily driven by a need to understand things and find a higher truth. It's why he left the mountain to begin with. He was sure he was missing something, something wasn't right in that philosophy, because truth is found among people. It's why he travels. It's why he attaches himself to people.

But that manifests in very Gryffindor way, because he assumes (I'd like to think correctly) that the way to understand the world and universe is through compassion and helping people, which is why he found fault with staying on the mountain. How could that be the right thing to do, how could that be the truth, when it meant leaving people to suffer?

And then when he encounters people who lie, who are hypocritical, who serve themselves when claiming to serve others, he’s deeply frustrated. Since his view of the truth is that it is found in compassion, he has no patience for the structures that lie and keep people down (cough cough JGS). So he wants to change the world and make it better for everyone which makes him look like a Gryffindor, but at its base it comes from very Ravenclaw values.

He’s also the least nerdy Ravenclaw ever, is not at all into texts, and believes that truth, like the Dao, can never be really put into words, but only acted. Though he’d say that there is no truth apart from the Dao, and that to distinguish things, to separate them, is missing the point completely.

Then we have Song Lan, the Hufflepuff who acts like a Gryffindor. Unlike Xiao Xingchen, he's not driven by any grand goals. He's not interested in uncovering some new truth or in changing the world in any big way. He just sees people suffering around him and knows that's wrong and believes that the right thing to do is alleviate suffering in all the small ways he can.

Except that as a powerful cultivator, it's often actually not that small. He doesn't think he can change the world, he certainly doesn't think he has any major effect. (He actually agrees with Xue Yang that it nobody really can), and he was taught since childhood that it was better to follow a more passive path than to try to shape the world into a new image.

But he does believe it's his duty to help the people around him, to make little things more fair, to save lives, to lay suffering ghosts, all of that, because it will effect individuals and individuals matter. He wants to start a new sect with Xiao Xingchen not because he is disgusted with the politics of the sect world (he just doesn't care about it, he's not Xiao Xingchen who is ready to argue with full on sect leaders), but because it will help more people in the surrounding area and it sounds like the right thing to do

But because he's a powerful wandering cultivator, and because he's attached himself to Xiao Xingchen who does have more vision, he comes off as a Gryffindor. - just because the way he operates as a Hufflepuff ends up looking very Gryffindor.

He’s also a very nerdy Hufflepuff who is very much into studying the texts he’s been memorized since his childhood at the temple.

To continue on the Yi City theme, we have Xue Yang, another Ravenclaw. He’s just straight up curious about everything, and since he has no ambition, no desire to change the world, and no loyalty to others, his only real motivation (outside that sweet, sweet revenge) comes from that curiosity.

He wants to know how things work. He’ll spend years studying Yiling Laozu’s notes because they’re fascinating. He’ll teach himself cultivation. He’ll torture someone into revealing themself. He’ll mess with people to learn what their nightmares are and he’ll then he’ll make their nightmares come true, just to see what happens.

He’ll spend three years with his enemy just to learn who he is and what makes him tick. (At least that’s what he’s telling himself... stupid feelings got in their way a bit there.)

If there’s nothing more to learn, he’ll get bored. He needs stimulation. He’s creative. And beyond that, he doesn’t really care.

It’s actually interesting that, like Xiao Xingchen, he is fascinated by so much in the world and wants to learn and learn and learn. And that, like Song Lan, he doesn’t actually think anyone has the power to make a big difference in it.

Rounding off Yi City, we have A-Qing, a Slytherin. She’s goal oriented and protective of the people she decides are worth protecting, and pretty dismissive of everyone else. When we first meet her, her only goal is to get ahead herself. Then she adopts her daozhang (it goes both ways) and she would do anything to get them both ahead.

It’s just that Xiao Xingchen doesn’t really care about getting ahead, or having money, or running away from Xue Yang when he’s going to kill them, which is an issue because he’s become her goal and she won’t abandon him.

I think that if we’d gotten to know her longer, we would have found her to be a pretty ambitious person, but it’s possible that she might have turned out to be a Gryffindor instead. She was just a kid and ghosts don’t really change or evolve. Even in the showverse, where she’s not a ghost but someone living with a sort of slow acting corpse poisoning (??? it’s not clear), she remains frozen as who she was when we last saw her in Yi City.

Wei Wuxian - the Gryffindoriest Gryffindor ever, but if he’d lived in more peaceful times, he would have been, like Hermione, someone with very Ravenclaw tendencies, who uses curiosity and scholarship to change the world for the better. Honestly, not much more to say about him beyond that. He’s just. So Gryffindor.

Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang are both pure Slytherins. Jin Guangyao classically so. He’s ambitious, he wants power, he wants to protect what’s his, he’s cunning, and he’ll do just about anything to reach his goals. His eye is on the prize, and that prize is the sort of power that means he can live without shame, except that the more power he gets, the bigger the potential for shame gets too. Poor thing never rests.

Nie Huaisang is less classically a Slytherin, in that he’s not actually all that ambitious, but oh man, is he goal oriented. What he wants, he’ll get, even if that means people have to suffer, either if they’re in the way, or if their suffering is part of his plan itself.

Lan Xichen is a Hufflepuff. Like Song Lan, he is primarily motivated by helping people around them and alleviating their suffering. Even if a part of him wishes he could make drastic changes to the world and how it’s run, he doesn’t believe he has the means to do so, and if he tried, he’d only hurt his own ability to do anything at all, as well as others under his protection.

So instead of fighting the world, he moves within it, being quietly but unusually kind to others, using his position of power to lift people up and protect them, and doing what he can to make the lives of individuals that much better and easier. Sometimes it even works.

He’s trying. The world is set against him. He just doesn’t have the freedom to set himself against the world.

He’s hardworking and he’s loyal and he believes in giving people the benefit of the doubt when no one else will. He has a very clear sense of honor, and it’s all based on what is the right way to relate to others. Like Helga Hufflepuff, he opens his sect up to people others would reject.

Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing are both Slytherins, for similar reasons, but it comes out in different ways. They both believe that their primary loyalties must be to their own blood (Jiang Cheng more expansively to the entire Jiang sect, Wen Qing to her branch of the Wen Clan) and that as leaders, they have to do whatever they can to protect it, even if it means letting others fall by the side.

They don’t think of themselves of heroes. Jiang Cheng is bitter about that and Wen Qing accepts it more easily. They have their own protect and that’s all.

Jiang Cheng is more obviously a Slytherin in that he’s very ambitious (he’s been taught to be, by his mother, it’s unclear to me if he would have been so otherwise), he wants to be on top and be an incredible sect leader, though he won’t use all means at his disposal to get ahead. Like Jin Guangyao, he feels inadequate in second place. Unfortunately for Jiang Cheng, he’s never going to get higher than second place - and often not even that. Wen Qing is not so ambitious herself, and in more peaceful times, might have been more of a Hufflepuff.

Jiang Yanli is a Hufflepuff. She also wants to help the people around her without dreams of changing the world. She’ll alleviate the suffering of others one bowl of soup at a time. Whatever grand dreams she may have had, she’s set them aside for her to nurture Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng which is upsetting, but also, and I mean this very seriously, the people (often women) who spent history quietly feeding the heroes we read about should have made history.

It’s actually enough to be kind.

Nie Mingjue is a Gryffindor, I think? He has a very strong view of right and wrong, and it’s less driven by individuals and more about what the world should look like, even if it’s not what it looks like now. But that’s very hard for me to reconcile with his super-strong views against the Wens, but then again, I don’t want to be all “no-true-Gryffindor fallacy” and claim that real Gryffindors can’t be bloodthirsty to wipe out entire sects.

He, like Lan Xichen, has a very stark view of what it means to be honorable, but for him, honor has less to do with relating to the people around him and more to do with what sort of actions are ever appropriate to take.

Mianmian is either a Hufflepuff or what happens when a Gryffindor is so disempowered as to just give up. She cares very strongly about doing the right thing by others and by setting a good example in the world. She looses her patience with the hypocrisy of the sects but rather than try to tear them down or change things, she leaves and finds her own place to be honorable.

So my question is, is she driven by the needs of the individuals around her (a Hufflepuff), or is she more idealistic and thinks the world should and can be drastically different (a Gryffindor)? Gryffindors work best when they are given the means to change things. Mianmian never really had those.

Jin Zixuan is that kid who sits under the hat and the hat is all, hmmmm, I’m not sure, and he’s all put me where my family is, and the hat is like, really? you sure? not sure you’ll thrive there, and Jin Zixuan says, I’m positive, and then ends up in Slytherin and his father is proud of him, so what could go wrong?

(Jin Zixuan is Regulus Black)

Jin Guangshan is a Slytherin. I mean. Obviously.

Wen Ning is a Hufflepuff. I mean. Obviously.

Su She doesn’t make it to Hogwarts because he’s a Squib, and the evil he ends up enabling says as much about the ills of the magical world as it does about him.

Jin Zixun is a Dursley. I’m taking comments and criticisms on everything else on this post but this.

Lan Wangji ... ???

Like, I dunno! Sometimes I want to say Gryffindor. His early dream was to make the world a better place, at least in the show, I don’t remember in the novel. To protect the innocent and have a clean conscience. He goes where the chaos is. He protects people others overlook. He’s Huangang-jun.

But I suspect he, like Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen, is someone who acts like a Gryffindor but isn’t necessarily, and part of that is because his primary motivation is surrounding one person. Protect Wei Wuxian. From himself, from others, from the world. That’s not a very Gryffindory motivation. Gryffindors tend to have more expansive drives. They want to make more of an impact.

Is he a Slytherin? He’s willing to do just about anything in service of his goals. (His goals are Wei Wuxian.) And he has a narrow group of people that he has claimed as his own and wants to put ahead. (His people are Wei Wuxian and Lan Xichen.)

Is he a Hufflepuff? He is desperate to do right by people and be kind to them and figure out how to alleviate their suffering. (People are Wei Wuxian.)

I’m pretty sure he’s not a Ravenclaw, because while he’s scholarly and does want to learn and open his mind, I don’t think he’s driven by curiosity or a need to attain truth. But even with Ravenclaw, I’d be open to it. So. Yeah.

Soooo, that’s not everybody, obviously, and if people want my sorting thoughts on other characters, feel free to send them my way! But that’s a taste of what goes through my head.

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thewritingstar · 4 years

Text

Falling Back to You

Pairing: Blossick (Blossom x Brick, Reds)

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls

Soft, sweet reds because I've been feeling angsty lately and needed a breather lol. Sorry to everyone who follows me for other fandoms, I promise Ill write more for FT (you can always leave asks lol)

Tag List: @over-under-through1 @shellielyzabeth (if you want to be on my tag list, you can find the post or dm me)

I hope you enjoy. This has been sitting in my drafts for a few months and decided to just finish it lol.

---

“I’m surprised you don’t have your hat on.” A voice came from behind him. But not just any voice. The moment the first word left those lips, the hair on his neck stood up and sent a familiar chill down his back. It was a voice that he knew well, could distinguish in a crowd of a thousand voices, it was the equivalent of his favorite song or the taste of the sweetest thing to melt in your mouth.

“Blossom.” He said under his breath but her super hearing picked it up.

She thought she was prepared to see him, after all its been two years. That’s enough time to heal, right? But she prayed that he didn’t hear the small gasp that escaped her lips as he turned. That crisp dark red suit fit him like a glove and she spotted him from a mile away in that signature color. He looked good in red.

“Hi.” She managed to say smoothly as he took a step towards her.

“What are you doing here?” He asked with a reluctant tone. It was only the most important night of his life. The one where he would be promoted to the head of the department, the one he busted his ass off from the ground up. Not to mention an award for a case he worked on last year.

She shrugged and bit her lip. “My boss is here and I have to write a report for him.” Then added. “And I wasn’t going to miss the achievement you have been talking about for literal years.” She said shyly. “I promised after all.”

And she did. Back when they had dated all those years ago. Blossom was by his side as he worked from being an assistant at the law firm to one of the most promising lawyers, and now the highest ranked lawyer, but she missed the last part. Unfortunately.

He studied his ass off and she did too, both of them determined to outshine anyone in their paths, maybe that why they chose different companies. They had traded their childhood rivalry for a path of lust and love, a simple competition would not be throwing them down that path. In fact their jobs were the reason they weren’t together.

“You remembered.” He said under his breath. She heard it, of course.

She tapped her foot and looked around before giving a puzzling look. “Wheres Jasmine?” It pained her to ask.

Jasmine. Oh yes, his girlfriend who couldn’t be bothered to celebrate to most important time of his career. Or rather, ex girlfriend, As of last night where he found her with another man.

“Not my girlfriend.” He simply stated as she nodded before taking a sip of her drink.

It must have been good if she brought it to her lips. Blossom loved a good cocktail but if it was hard liquor, she required top shelf, something he admired. He was like that too and was the reason she only drank the highest quality.

“What about Tyson?”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Not my boyfriend.” She said bitterly and he didn’t know why he was happy about it. “Cheated on me for a blonde.” Her glass was on the verge of cracking before she smoothed out her dress. “Typical.”

He hummed in agreement. There was a feeling of anger running through him as he thought about any man hurting Blossom, sure he hurt her too but nothing like that. No their fight was different, it was a fight about whats best for both of them.

They had just under an hour before the cermony started. He didn’t want to bother being inside socailzing with a bunch of random people and he had a feeling she didn’t either. The wide open hallway was becoming stuffy and he could see a trio of men walking their way and knew Blossom would become the talking point.

Before Brick could turn them the other way, the men were already there.

“Brick.” The tall one spat.

“Landon.” Brick matched his tone. What a dumb name he thought.

Landon turned and did not bother to hide the fact that he was checking out Blossom. Of course he was. Even in her simple black cocktail dress that screamed sophistication, she was a walking dream.

“And you are?” He gave her a smirk that could charm anyone, expcet for Blossom of course.

Brick was pracitcally smiling as Blossom shook his hand. He knew she wouldn’t take his bait.

“Blossom Utonium. Head of corrupt affairs at Duchess Law.” She started with what Brick likes to call her “Miss Business voice”.

Landon smirked. “Duchess Law? Someones a smart cookie.” He winked.

The other men behind him agreed and Blossom held her tounge. She hated being patronized or looked down on. He should be thanking the lucky stars that he’s even in her presence.

Brick could tell she was annoyed and wrapped his arm around her waist before looking at Landon. “She makes more money than all three of you combine and actally can win a case so show some repect.” He spat and he turned them around towards the back doors that led to the garden space.

The feeling of having his arm around her sent a spark through her body. At first it felt foreign but the memories came rolling in waves as they walked.

“I could handle myself.” She stated and he hid his laugh.

“I know, but you won’t because of your repuation. I for one don’t care about mine that much.”

“Or maybe its because you still care.” She teased as she sat on the stone bench with him.

He was about to response but his phone began to ring. He wanted to ignore it but Blossom probably would say something about it.

“Its Butch.” He said before trying to put it back into his pocket.

“You should anwser it. I’m sure he’s wanting to wish his brother well.”

He huffed and anwsered on the final ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey quick question. Do you think that I would win in a fight against Thanos?”

Brick only shook his head.

“Butch.”

“Its serious cause Buttercup doesn’t think so but I could take him for sure.”

Blossom was holding a hand to her mouth as the guy kept going on about the stupid question.

“Oh shit dude, tonights your night!”

“Yes it is now Imma hang up now.”

“Brick be nice.”

“Wait a minute bro. Is that Miss Blossom with you?”

“Yes because shes the only one who bothered to care.”

“Hey you’re the one who said not to come. Anyways tell her I said hi and that you two should totally get back together because you kept going on and on about how you missed her and leaving her was the worst choice you made-” The line cut dead and the phone was shoved in his pocket.

“Hes stupid.” He mumbled and Blossom drank the rest of her drink.

“Hes not wrong.”

He turned towards her and gazed silently. She was just as he remembered. Gorgeous and graceful and even without a word spoken, she could command a room. He admired her greatly and she felt the same.

“Brick, can we just skip all of it?” She asked softly.

“I’ve kinda been looking forward to my award.”

“No, not this.” She gestured to the building. “But this.” She pointed between them.

“Skip what?”

“Oh I don’t know, the drama of it all? Because if we don’t confess now we are going to waste so much time running after each other and I-I dont want to waste time.” She looked down at her shoes. A sad sigh leaving her lips. “I just miss you.”

The confession surprised him. They were both forward people who never beat around the bush but when it came to their feelings between them, they had always been shy. Boomer and Bubbles were easy to confess and even Butch and Buttercup seemed to have it together but for them, it felt impossible sometimes.

No matter where he turned, she was there. They had always crossed paths like star-crossed lovers and it was as if the universe was constantly pulling them together and they had tried. They really did.

Perhaps the timing wasn’t enough or their pride had stood in the way. they never meant to fall apart the way they did but when the other side of the bed was empty, those walls they held up became transparent and it only took a mere few seconds to see what they had lost.

But he understood what she meant. They both knew that if anything were to happen between them tonight it would start a snowball effect that everyone was tired of seeing. Over and over they would fall in line and build each other up before something came between them and pulled them apart.

He wanted to get past all the hurdles of playing cat and mouse until on of them caved and said their feelings. But her saying she missed him wasn’t her caving, she was just tired and so was he.

They had been young when they had fallen in love. The rules of life tossing them into a sea of doubt but now they were adults who knew the game and could easily avoid anything in their paths, except each other.

His hand slid over hers. “I missed you too.”

She smiled softly before her hand rested on his cheek. “I’m really proud of you Brick, you’ve come along way.”

“I’m just happy you got to see it.” He whispered before his lips touched hers with a fire they both had missed.

A swirl of fire and ice that only they knew. No matter how much life decided to pull them apart or change the course, he would always find himself coming back to her.

The kiss didn’t last as long as he would have liked but seeing the faint blush on her cheeks made it all worth it.

“What are you doing later?” He asked as he helped her up from the bench.

“I was going to get take out and sit in my hotel room watching movies.”

Brick leaned over to fix the bow in her hair, taking the time to have her close. “I don’t suppose you would accept any company?” He winked before kissing the back of her hand and handing her the red purse.

“I think I can make an exception.” She winked and he had never thought she had looked more stunning.

She took his hand, their palms resting naturally together, before walking back to the ceremony, where he would leave with not only his award but the woman he had loved for years and years.

was the ending lazy? yes. do I care, only a little bit. Lol. I’ve had a really off day so I hope this is good.

Hope you enjoyed :)

#blossick #blossom x brick #reds ppg #ppg x rrb #ppg fanfic #blossick fanfic #thewritingstar

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togglesbloggle · 4 years

Text

So, @argumate is up to some more prosocial atheistic trolling. As is usual with such things, the conversation isn’t particularly elevated, but it does make me nostalgic for the old bbc days. So I thought I’d be the Discourse I’d like to see in the world. This is the post that kicked things off; correctly noting Platonism as a philosophical foundation underpinning most versions of Abrahamic faiths. And it’s probably the most useful place for me to target also, since hardly anybody just identifies as a Platonist but most westerners are one. So, without further ado, a halfhearted and full-length defense of Platonism:

Well, strike that. A little bit of ado.

I’m not a Platonist myself, so this is a devil’s advocate type of thing. Or maybe you could call it an intellectual Turing test? As I discuss here, my philosophical commitments are mostly to skepticism, and for instrumental reasons, to reductionist materialism. That combo leaves me some wiggle room, and I find it fairly easy to provisionally occupy a religious mindset, so I can generally read and enjoy religious polemics. I also have a fairly deep roster of what are often called ‘spiritual experiences’; I’m probably in the set of people that are by nature predisposed to religion. I am not religious, and I approve of Argumate saying things like ‘God is not real’ a lot. This is in no way a retread of the arguments in The Republic or Plato’s other writings; you can go read those if you want, but I’m going to play around with stuff that I think is better suited to this audience.

Attention conservation notice: yikes. This got pretty long.

Anyway, on to the argument. Argumate’s main point is pretty clear, I think: ‘forms’ in the Greek sense are a function and product of the perceiving mind. Birds don’t conform to bird-ness; instead brains naturally produce a sort of bird-ness category to make processing the world easier, and to turn a series of wiggly and continuous phenomena into a discrete number of well-modeled objects. Basically, we impose ‘thing-ness’ on the wavefunction of reality. And there are some good reasons to think that it might be true! Our understanding of categories gets a lot sharper when reality conveniently segregates itself, and whenever that boundary gets a little blurry, our ability to use categories tends to break down. If the recognition of animal-ness came from contact with a higher plane of reality, you wouldn’t necessarily expect people to get confused about sponges.

But. While there’s certainly plenty of support for Argumate’s position, it doesn’t strike me as anything near self-evident, or necessarily true. So what I’ll argue is that Platonism isn’t obviously false, and that if we ever converge on a true answer to the question of our reality, then that truth could plausibly be recognizably Platonist. My opening salvo here is, predictably enough, mathematics.

‘Mathematical Platonism’ is a whole other thing, only distantly related to Classical Platonism, and I only really mean to talk about the latter. But nonetheless, mathematics really actually does appear to be a situation where we can simply sit in a chair, think deeply, and then more or less directly perceive truths. Basic arithmetic can be independently discovered, and usefully applied, by almost anybody; ‘quantity’ comes naturally to most humans, and the inviolable laws of quantity are exploited just as often. It’s also very hard to argue that these are ‘mere’ linguistic conventions, since fundamental natural behaviors like the conservation of mass depend on a kind of consistent logical framework. In most chemical reactions, the number of atomic nuclei does not change, and the atoms added to a new molecule are perfectly mirrored by the loss of atoms in some reactant; this remains true in times and places where no thinking mind exists to count them.

There are a lot of debates about what math is, fundamentally. But inevitably when we study math, we’re studying the set of things that must be true, given some premise: we’re asking whether some proposition is a necessary consequence of our axioms. The so-called ‘unreasonable effectiveness of mathematics’ suggests that the phenomena that Argumate mentions- hotdogs and birds and whatnot- are observed only within the auspices of a sort of super-phenomenon. Loosely speaking, we can call this super-phenomenon self-consistency.

We treat phenomena as having a natural cause. Platonism, at its crunchy intellectually rewarding center, represents a willingness to bite the bullet and say that self-consistency also has a cause. Plato himself actually provided what might be the most elegant possible answer! Basically, posit the simplest thing that meets the criterion of being A) autocausal and B) omnicausal, and then allow the self-consistency of the cosmos to follow from its dependence on (in Platonist terms, its emanation from) that single, unitary cause. The universe is self-consistent for the very straightforward reason that there’s only one thing. Any plurality, to the extent that plurality is even a thing, happens because ‘the only real thing’ is only partially expressed in a particular phenomenon. To skip ahead to Lewis’ Christian interpretation of all this, you’d say that humans and moons and hotdogs are distinguished from God not by what they have, but by what they lack.

And for present purposes, I do want to take a step back and point out that this does feel like a reasonable answer to a very important question. Materialism fundamentally has no answer to the question of self-consistency and/or the presence of logic and order, and that is (for me) one of its least satisfying limits. We’ve got things like ‘the origin of the universe’, sure. But we probe the Big Bang with mathematical models! That’s a hell of an assumption- namely, that even at the origin of our universe, self-consistency applies. It’s not like materialism has a bad explanation. It just remains silent, treats the problem as outside the domain. If we’re adopting the thing for utilitarian reasons, that’s fine. But if we’re treating materialism as a more comprehensive philosophy, a possible approach to the bigger questions, then it’s a painful absence. In that domain, far from being self-evidently true (in comparison to Platonism), materialism doesn’t even toss its hat in the ring!

Which, uh, gets us to the stuff about Forms and shadows in Plato’s Cave and all that- the intermediate form of existence between the omnisimple core of Platonism and the often chaotic and very plural experience of day-to-day life. And frankly, we’re not especially bound to say that the forms are exactly as Plato described them, any more than atomism is restricted to Democritus. Whether there is some ‘bird-ness’ that is supra- to all extant birds might be contestable; however, it’s easier to wonder whether ‘binary tree’ is supra- to speciation and the real pattern of differences between organisms that we map using Linnaean taxonomy.

But, this is an attempted defense of Platonism and not Toggle’s Version of Platonism that He Invented Because it’s Easier, so I’ll give it a try. Fair warning to the reader, what follows is not fully endorsed (even in the context of a devil’s advocate-type essay), except the broader claim that it’s not self-evidently false. And on the givens we came up with a couple paragraphs ago, this is a reasonable way to tackle what necessarily follows. So let me see how far I can defend a very strong claim: in a self-consistent (or: mathematical) cosmos, beauty cannot be arbitrary.

Remember that Plato never argued that his Forms were arbitrary, or even fully discrete as such; their apparent plurality, like our own, emanates from the unitary Thing What Exists. And so, bird-ness is treated as a contingent thing, not an absolute. It’s just not contingent on human experience. And so for us to believe in ‘bird-ness’ is to believe that there exists some specific and necessary pattern- a Form- which any given material bird must express.

Let’s take an obvious example: any flying bird will, for fairly simple aerodynamic reasons, tend to be symmetrical. Usually, this means two wings. In theory, you could… have one in the middle? Maybe? Even that seems rather goofy to try to imagine, but you could probably get away with it if you were extremely creative biologically. And if we see a bird with only one wing (without a prosthetic or other form of accommodation), then we will tend quite naturally to recognize that something awful is in the process of happening.

A fully materialist explanation of our reaction here would say: we think of the one-winged bird as problematic because A) we have been socialized to recognize and appreciate two-winged birds, and spurn deviations from that socialization, or maybe B) because natural selection has given us a set of instincts that recognize when a body plan has failed in the past, so things like ‘being crippled’ or ‘being sick’ are recognizable.

Platonism, I think, would offer a third option, that C) we recognize (as emanations of The Real Thing) that a one-winged bird body is insufficiently reflective of The Real Thing, and that accordingly it lacks the ability to keep existing. Plato had some… basically magical ideas, about how Forms are recognized, but here I’ll point out that ‘deduction’ is a completely serviceable kind of magic for our purposes. It is, after all, our direct experience of the self-consistency of the cosmos, which follows from the fact that we are ourselves an expression of that same self-consistency; it meets the criteria.

Materialists, obviously, would agree that deductive reasoning could allow a person to recognize the problems inherent in a one-winged bird, but as I said a few paragraphs up, their(/our) explanation of this process is rootless. “Yes, logic and a few high-confidence assumptions let you assume that a bird with only one wing is in trouble,” they might say. And we might ask- “what makes you so sure?” And then the materialist must respond, “Well, let me be more clear. It always worked in the past, and my Bayesian priors are strongly in the direction of the method continuing to bear fruit.” True enough, but it’s not an explanation and doesn’t pretend to be. The universe just does this weird thing for some reason; it works ‘by magic’. So why not call it that? Theurgy for all!

So, consider. We recognize (deductively, let’s say for the sake of argument) that a one-winged bird is on the road to becoming nonexistent, absent some change in circumstances. It may keep going for a little while, but it’s not in homeostasis. And if we reasonably admit this very basic duality to our thinking- things which can persist, and things which cannot- then we start to recognize a sort of analogy between physical phenomena and mathematical propositions. A lemma can be right or wrong, albeit sometimes unprovably so. Basically, it can follow- or not- from the axioms we’re working with. And in a softer but very real sense, that one-winged body plan is wrong analogously to the lemma’s wrongness. Not ‘wrong’ as in ‘counter to cultural norms’, but ‘wrong’ as in ‘unstable given the premises, given the Thing That Exists Most’. Look up research on fitness landscapes, if you’re so inclined- actual biological research isn’t totally unacquainted with the notion. There exists a surprisingly discrete ideal or set of ideals, both for flying birds as a whole and subordinately for any given flying bird species. And we have discovered this using magic.

Insofar as beauty is something to be admired, or pursued, or is otherwise desirable, then our sense of beauty must necessarily correlate with those abstract, and dare I say supra-real, qualities which allow things to persist, and which can therefore be understood deductively. And that set of qualities does, effectively, meet the Platonic criterion of a ‘form’.

The immediate materialist objection is: hey, wait a minute. The supposed ‘objective’ criterion of a bird is contingent, not absolute! It follows from the strength of gravity, the thickness of the atmosphere, the availability of food sources, and on and on. This is one of the most important reasons why genetic drift and speciation happens in the first place, because the ‘ideal’ bird depends on an environment that’s in constant flux.

True enough. But! How do you think the atmosphere got there? It’s an old trick in religious discourse, but in this case I think a valid one. The rightness of the bird depends on the atmosphere, the rightness of the atmosphere depends on the planet, the rightness of the planet depends on the solar system, and ultimately it all depends on that necessary self-consistency which (we proclaim) implies our unitary Most Real Thing. This does mean that we can’t really think of Platonic forms as wholly discrete objects, unconnected to one another and without internal relation among themselves- unfortunately, that’s part of the original Plato that I don’t see as defensible, even with maximum charity. But there’s such a thing as a ‘ring species’, and if we admit Platonic Forms of that type, a kind of dense network of paths being traced through higher-dimensional spaces that correspond to the shadow of That Than Which There Is No Whicher, then it’s more than salvageable. It’s both satisfying to imagine and, I think, quite consistent with the spirit of the original philosophy.

One thing this doesn’t mean. Even if we were to accept all of this, we aren’t obliged to resign ourselves to the lot of that one-winged bird. Indeed, if anything this gives us a rich language by which to justify a prosthetic wing or other form of accommodation: we can talk about ‘making the bird whole’, and can see how our compassion for that bird might lead us to create the conditions of homeostasis once again. But it does mean that if we take a position on the merits of existence- if we’re in favor- then we don’t treat a one- and two-winged bird as coequal scenarios.

Anyway, this has gone on hideously long already for what’s basically an intellectual exercise, so I won’t dive into immortal souls or any of the other ancillaries. I mostly want to reiterate that, far from being obviously false, I do think that (some forms of) Platonism are quite defensible, and can provide coherent answers to questions that I A) care about very deeply and B) can’t resolve to my own satisfaction. Of course, it is not obviously nor trivially true, either. But one can be Platonist without being willfully wrong.

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

Speaking of writing advice, I get asked a lot if I have any tricks for writing dialogue, so quick post about that, because I do, actually!

Really, its just two simple things that can make a huge difference: listen to people talk, and read your dialogue out loud.

The first sounds simple, but its more about just increasing your awareness of how DIFFERENTLY most people talk, even if they do sound similar in a lot of ways. And the key here is like, I don’t mean watch TV or read books, because what you’re absorbing there is still ultimately just other writers’ interpretation of how people talk. Which is still one step too many removed from the source.

I know its not as easy during a pandemic, as say, when you could just go write at a food court or coffee shop, but even just listen and absorb stuff while your family is talking over dinner or your friends are all in a group call or whatever it is you’re personally doing to have social interaction offline these days.

The point isn’t to like, listen in on conversations and be a creeper, lol, its more just about trying to attune yourself to the wide VARIETY of ways in which people speak. I’m talking everything from inflection to patterns of speech to rhythms of it....the way some people pepper a lot of filler words into their speech patterns, like ‘like’ and ‘y’know’ as they try and search for just the right word they want, and the way other people take their time and are more deliberate with their speech, erring on the side of always saying exactly what they mean even if it means they don’t say as much.

And thing is, this isn’t just about improving dialogue, it really helps with your character work as well. Because one of the most common pitfalls a lot of writers fall into - and like EVERY single agent or editor I’ve ever known has agreed on this - is a lot of writers accidentally fall into the trap of making their characters all sound alike. And this isn’t something that routinely comes up in criticism from readers and audiences....because its one of those things that people absorb when reading a work without often even realizing that they’re absorbing it. And it usually is one of the distinct markers between how much or how fully someone is immersing themselves in what they’re reading......the more ‘real’ the dialogue sounds, the easier it is to lose yourself in what you’re reading and lose the separation between the words on the page and your own perception of them as just words on a page.

Because dialogue, what we say, is one of the clearest indicators of who we are, when we can’t all know what each other is thinking. And its no different for written characters, especially when you’re writing in a limited POV that at most allows you to ‘see into’ the thoughts of one character at a time. What people say - even if it is often contradictory or not an honest indication of what a person or character is really feeling - its still one of the only things we have to go on when trying to get a sense of who a person or character is. And thus, the more what someone says is DISTINCT to them, is something that’s so clearly them that you could imagine closing your eyes and still being able to identify them by what they say - not the sound of their voice, but what they say and how they say it, how they sound when they say it even if its just written words.....the more distinct that person or character is in your awareness as well.

And the more you can increase the individuality of your characters by layering in the LITTLE things....the inflections, the vocabulary choices, the rhythms and filler words or lack there of.....the more real they feel for other people. Don’t fall into the equal but opposite trap of trying to rely too much on linking characters with certain keywords or phrases....this is kinda an artificial individuality. Take for instance Batfandom.....I think a big part of why we see so much of Jason calling Dick “Dickhead” and JUST Jason, like, also has to do with it being an identifier for Jason, a way to distinguish Jason’s dialogue from others even when you’ve got four or five characters all present and talking to Dick, so that he stands out even without having to name him every time he talks. Same thing as leaning on Damian’s “tt” sound not just because you feel its what he would make in a moment but rather just because you’re trying to make him distinctly Damian and that’s the easiest go-to.

The problem with leaning too much on this stuff is its a fairly shallow link or association....and one that any character can hijack at any time, for any reason then. If then, Tim makes the “tt” sound because he’s trying to mimic Damian for a joke or insult, or multiple characters who aren’t usually present are making jokes about Dick’s name so its no longer for this chapter just a Jason thing.....you’ve kinda shot yourself in the foot, by relying overly much on stuff that you may personally associate with a character....but when its the only association you really lean on, and its an association that can easily be spread to other characters....its effectiveness is completely diluted.

So focus less on what people SAY and more on HOW they say it. How they remain clearly and distinctly THEM in your impressions or general awareness, even as they say what’s essentially the exact same thing someone else is saying. How two people can say the same thing in totally different ways that sound like totally different people, etc.

And then part two of this is, when possible, when alone and editing or whatever, read your dialogue back aloud. This helps you detect the stilted, artificial parts where you’re trying too hard, when you’re attempting to FORCE a character to sound a specific way or carry a specific tendency, and its not feeling natural or organic. Because that’s the stuff that does come through the page when reading it, and that makes readers feel less.....immersed in what they’re reading because even if not on a conscious level, they feel like something is off, or not quite ringing true. They’re not fully able to commit to feeling like they’re part of the scene or just outside it listening in, because its a little too clearly a SCENE still in their awareness, rather than just events unfolding around them or near them.

And it also helps you see and evaluate how well you’re distinguishing or separating characters from each other on the page. Because when you’re reading ALL their dialogue out loud...and you have just the one voice, and your own natural ways of reading and speaking.....the more you’ve varied up your characters with different patterns of speech and identity in speaking....the more this will shine through because what you’re reading will start to kinda....take over and hijack how YOU read/say what they’re saying, to sound more like their rhythms and patterns and inflections. And when you’re reading, say Barbara out loud, and then reading Jason out loud and then Bruce and then Tim, and its still just you but they’re all SOUNDING totally different even just in your own voice, and its not even just because of specific single words or phrases but rather just the PERSONALITY shining through from each bit of dialogue....that’s how you know you’re on the right track.

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emma-nation · 4 years

Text

Unfinished Business - F! Sam Dalton x MC Fanfiction (Chapter 3)

Summary: When Sam Dalton is caught in a scandal, Anna Schuyler is the only one who can help her. But will her former nanny be able to leave the past behind?

“Samantha Dalton was like one of good dreams you don’t want to wake up from. You close your eyes, you force your brain to remember every minor detail, you begin to imagine what comes next… hoping to be in control. You want to fall asleep again. You want it to continue, but it’s too late now. You’re wide awake.”

Genre: Angst, Romance

Tag List: @save-me-the-last-dance, @nydeiri (If you wish to be tagged for future chapters/fics of this pairing, let me know)

Being back to that motel room brought a turmoil of feelings inside Anna's chest. Deep down, she knew the real reason why she was standing in the same room as Sam Dalton again. Yet, she felt the constant need of reminding it to her brain, and especially her heart.

"I'm doing this for Jack," she repeated mentally. "I must get the money to pay for his treatment."

"I'm glad you accepted my offer, Anna," Sam said. "But it's late now, you should probably get some rest. Tomorrow we can start to work."

"Right, I'll get a room."

She knew what Sam was about to offer, so she anticipated herself and left through the door, giving her no chance to speak. There was absolutely no possibility she'd spend the night in the same room as that woman. By the morning, she could grab Sam's gadgets and work by herself. They didn't have to speak, or even see each other. That was a professional deal and nothing more.

"My apologies, Ms. Schuyler," the receptionist spoke as she typed on her computer. "We're crowded."

"Uhhh... I... I only need a bed for a few hours," Anna handed her some extra cash. "Anything is fine."

Even the janitor's room would be better than sharing the bed with her ex lover. It was almost scientifically proven that any physical contact between them could not end well. Or it could end too well, considering how great she was in bed. Anna shook her head dismissing those thoughts.

"Ms. Schuyler, you don't understand. We don't have any rooms."

"Fine! I'll sleep right here."

She stomped to a small couch in the reception room, trying to curl her body enough to make herself a little bit comfortable. She closed her eyes for a minute, when a voice brought her back from her failed attempt of falling asleep.

"Really, Anna?" Sam sighed. "You can take my bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

"I don't want it, thank you," she quickly closed her eyes again. "I don't want to be so near to you in such a small space."

"You can take my room then. I'll... I'll stay up, walking around. I haven't been able to sleep since it all started anyways."

Anna opened her eyes again. Sam seemed to be exhausted. Her face gave it away. The scandal was truly affecting her. After dedicating her whole life to that company, she was about to lose everything. Including her children if she went to jail. And that was when their eyes met.

"I can't believe I'm here," she rolled her eyes on the bed. She was trying hard to not move, or make any sounds that indicated she was still awake. Sam kept her promise, she was sleeping on the floor, very far away from the bed. "Those damn puppy dog eyes. They make her seem so innocent!"

"Good night, Anna," what was it? Was she reading thoughts now?

"Good night, Sam," she rolled to the side, facing the wall until she fell asleep.

When she woke up in the morning, Sam was already awake. Outside the room she seemed to be busy on the phone with her lawyers. Anna took a shower and changed her clothes before she returned.

"Anna, good morning," Sam met her after some time. "I didn't want to wake you up."

"I didn't want to disturb your phone call," Anna told. "Any important news?"

"They've set the trials to start three weeks from now. We'll need to work fast. But I told them I may have found a manner to prove my innocence, they're optimistic."

"Okay then, let's get to work."

Anna turned on Sam's computer. Password protected. The first step to narrow the suspect's list was to discover how safe Sam's password could be. Anna tried a few guesses.

"What are you doing?" The CEO asked.

"Trying to guess your password," Anna answered. "Through this, we can find out how close to you our suspect can be."

"This is smart. Though I can't think of anyone who would be able to guess it."

"Not even Sofia?"

"No, she wouldn't know."

After lots of combinations, Anna threw her hands in the air. Without an expert cracking method, it was impossible. Sam approached, typing a combination of numbers and letters: 'M9S16N2M00CK7Y'.

"Hmmm it's long and safe," she asked curiously. "What is it by the way?"

"A mix of the boys' names and the date I met their mom," Sam told.

"Your first wife, huh? You never talk much about her, so I guess no one would find out so easily."

Sam's expression suddenly became distant and somber. Her current situation was probably making all those old feelings resurface.

"The truth is I still feel guilty for her death. We had a fight that day, she thought I was spending too much time at work. I realized she was right, I came home with a surprise and... I received the news of her accident."

"I'm sorry. This wasn't your fault, Sam. It was a tragedy."

Not wanting to get involved, Anna turned her attention back to the computer screen. She didn't know where to start searching first. She wasn't sure she wanted to have all the pictures, videos and evidence of the last two happy years Sam spent with Sofia thrown in her face all at once. She wasn't ready for this.

"Okay..." she took a deep breath. "Remember, you're here for the money."

As she started scanning the folders for any suspicious files or activity, she was surprised. Most of the pictures were of Mason and Mickey, a few of Sam's parents and only a couple where she was accompanied by her wife. Her marriage seemed boring and unhappy, different from what the tabloids would often paint.

"So, did you find anything?" Sam asked after a few minutes.

"Not yet. Whoever is doing this to you was smart enough to not leave any tracks or..."

"Or what?"

"They didn't hack you. They had direct access to your computer."

"Are you suggesting..."

"You should trust no one. Not even Sofia, or Robin."

Sam's cell phone was now their only hope to find proof. Anna plugged it on the laptop and using some advanced software, she started analyzing its activity. It didn't take long for her to come across some evidence.

"Crap!" She shouted.

"What's going on?" Sam want to know.

"Not only somebody has hacked your phone, Sam. But they've bugged you too."

"Damn, they listened to all my conversation with the lawyers. They know what I'm trying to do!"

"Well, on a brighter side you need to take this to the police as soon as possible. It'll be more than enough to prove you didn't send that email."

Anna collected her stuff, Sam did the same. Now all she had to do was wait for her paycheck and leave. Easy as that. But before, she was going to grab some breakfast. All the adrenaline of the last few hours had her starving.

"Uh, what are you doing?" She asked, noticing Sam had followed her to the motel's cafeteria. "Aren't you going home?"

"I haven't had breakfast yet and..." And. Followed by the puppy dog eyes. Anna knew there was something else. "I was hoping you could come with me to the police station."

"I'm sorry, Sam. I don't wanna get any more involved, I've already have a ton to deal with right now. "

"I understand. Can you at least take me back to New York? Carter is with the boys in my parents' house."

Anna sighed in frustration. Everytime she thought she'd free herself from any contact with Sam, something new would come up. Again, she needed money and the CEO had more than enough to pay extra for a rid back to New York. She agreed. All for Jack... and a little revenge too. Samantha Dalton would be literally paying for every tear she made her cry.

"What's going on?" As they walked back to the room, Sam attempted to break the awkward silence that was always present between them. "In your life, I mean. You said you're dealing with a lot right now."

"It's... personal," Anna didn't want to give her details about her stepfather's health. "Family issues."

"Is this why you accepted my offer, Anna? Are you having money issues?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does, because I still ca-" Sam's sentence was cut short by the surprise of seeing the door was open. "Did I forget to lock it when we left?"

"No, I'm pretty sure you did," Anna said. "I remember seeing you lock it."

As they entered, the room had been completely trashed. All of their clothes and belongings were scattered on the floor.

"No..." Sam rushed inside, knowing exactly what could be missing. She started searching everywhere for her cell phone and laptop. "No... it can't be."

Anna decided to help her. There wasn't any signs of the devices until she opened the bathroom's door and found they had been destroyed in a million pieces. Sam stood by her side, her mouth opened in shock and her eyes full of tears.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Anna placed a hand on her shoulder. "Someone is really determined to destroy you."

"What am I going to do now?" The woman sat on the edge of the bed. It was the second time Anna was actually seeing her cry. The only thing that had affected Samantha so badly in the past was her accident in Italy, days before her wedding with Sofia.

"I don't know..." Anna walked to the window. As she contemplated the world outside, she noticed as a black car was watching them. Its windows were heavily tinted, but she could distinguish the figure of a man behind the wheel. As soon as he noticed her staring, he drove away. "Damn it, we're being followed."

Sam was fast enough to approach in time to see the car leaving.

"We're not safe here, Anna."

"Right, you should go to your parents' house with the boys. I'm coming back to my small hometown, where I know no one will even bother following me there."

"I can't risk putting their lives in danger," Sam said, placing her clothes back into the bags. "I'm coming with you."

"What?!" Anna tried to protest, she tried to think of reasonable excuse to voice and prevent that madness from happening. It was too late, paralyzed with shock, she was already back to her car with Samantha, headed to Rhode Island.

"I hate myself," she thought, glancing discreetly at the passenger's seat. "It can't get any worse than this. Can it?"

As they parked in front of Anna's childhood home, she began to wonder what she'd be telling her parents about Sam. It was a small town. Even if the scandal had made to the national news, no one would ever imagine the CEO would be hiding there. They probably wouldn't even recognize her.

Her phone started ringing. It was Jenny. Now it would be the right time for some friendly advice. She left the car for privacy, standing under a tree.

"Hey Jenny."

"Hey. You promised me daily news, don't you remember?"

"I do, but not even in your wildest dreams you could imagine what happened..."

She told her everything, from Jack's illness to the fact Sam Dalton was inside her car, minutes away from being introduced to her family.

"Anna, you should have dropped her in the middle of the road!" Jenny yelled. "She's not your problem. She's her wife's problem. And it's not like she can't afford the best lawyers in the country, people like her will never go to jail."

"You're right," Anna agreed. "I should. Yet, I had no strength to do so. Even after everything she did to me, I couldn't stand seeing her suffer. God, I'm so stupid..."

"No, Anna. You have this great heart that will always help people, no matter who they are. This is part of you, and one of the reasons why I love you so much."

"Thank you, I... I learned it from Jack."

"Then go save him, you're doing the right thing. Even if it's crazy and absolutely stupid."

She turned off her phone and returned to the car. It was time to enter the house and face her parents.

"Ready?" She went back to the car.

"Anna, would you mind borrowing me your phone for a minute?" Sam asked. "I'm gonna call the lawyers to inform the incident."

Anna handed her the phone. But instead of dialing, Sam stared at the screen for minutes. She nervously ran a hand through her hair.

"What's going on? Something wrong?"

"Yes. Helena Hawthorne, the woman I'm being accused to sleep with, she released the pictures to the media. And Sofia is already filing for the divorce."

----------

Notes: (Oh Anna, you have no idea how worse it can get.)

Thank you so much for the feedback. It means a lot to me!

#the nanny affair #sam dalton x mc #sam x mc #f!sam x mc #choices tna #f!sam dalton x mc #tna #tna fanfiction #unfinished business

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crossdreamers · 4 years

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How can TERFs combine their belief in a biological sex essence with the idea that your upbringing makes you a woman?

The short answer: They cannot.

Gender identity based on life experience

The "gender critical" trans-exclusionary "radical feminists" (TERFs) argue that only cis (non-transgender) women can be recognized as women, because only cis women have the life experience needed to understand women.

This is a cultural, and not a biological, argument. It is misleading, for sure, as it requires that all women share the lived realities of Northern European and North American middle- and upper class white women like J.K. Rowling (who have very little in common with a female farmer from Ghana or a Black trans woman from Detroit) , but it is a cultural argument all the same.

Indeed, our upbringing does shape the way we are and think of ourselves, and we all have to look into how social structures and inherited belief systems creates and upholds oppression and social exclusion. This applies to gender roles, race, sexual orientation, gender identity and more.

So the starting point of the TERF approach is actually a meaningful one. So why is it that they nearly always end up saying that trans women are men because of chromosomes or genitalia?

Moving over to sex identity based on biology

They have changed the overall feminist narrative of socialization to "only biology is real" because it serves their transphobic agenda.

They now most often leave out the cultural "gender assignment at birth" bit, taking the gender judgment of doctors and midwives for granted. Gender now equals biological sex as understood by these doctors.

Indeed, many of these “feminists” now argue that gender does not exist as something separate from biological sex.

The reason they have ended up here is that the "gender assignment bit" leaves room for "mistakes". The assigned gender might not always equal gender identity. The doctor might have been mistaken, as he or she cannot see what is inside the baby’s mind, now or in the future. That leaves room for the idea that gender might be something else than biological sex. That leaves room for transgender people, and the TERFs cannot have that.

Why intersectionality is bad for TERFs

The same applies to intersectionality, i.e. the idea that the oppression of one marginalized group (as in Black women) intersects with another oppressed community (as in transgender women), so that the effects of the overall oppression play out differently for different people.

A Black transgender woman living in a favela in Rio has a different life experience than a privileged cis woman like Rowling (who own several huge estates and houses in Scotland and England). They both experience the misogyny of a male dominated, sexist, society, but they do so in different ways.

The TERFs hate intersectionality, because it opens up the door to the idea that trans women actually can be women, even if they have a somewhat different life experience than Rowling.

A misleading understanding of what modern science is

This is also why many of these “gender critical” activists having bought into what I would call a kind of “pseudo-positivsm”. By positivism I mean the belief that only the hard natural sciences – the ones that measure physical things – can provide real evidence about anything.

This is a kind of 1960's scientism, from a time when some natural scientists believed that everything in the world could be explained by describing atoms colliding. Few natural scientists believe in this kind of simplistic reductionism these days. You cannot explain a phenomenon by reducing its origin to one and only one factor.

In fact, these days biologists and psychiatrists are very careful distinguish between biological sex, gendered behavior and as far as humans go: gender identity. Most experts also agree that a complex phenomenon like gender identity is caused by an interplay between genetic, epigenetic, hormonal, psychological, social and cultural phenomena.

I suspect that many of the TERFs have not moved beyond what the text books and the popular press told them some 30 to 40 years ago. Others ignore modern research on purpose, as it does not serve their transphobic agenda.

The truth is, however, that their own ideology does not allow for this kind of intellectual shortcuts. Feminism is, and always will be, about seeing through the cultural and political ideas and practices that keep women under control.

It says a lot about their state of mind that they are disregarding their own philosophy to such an extent that they are now arguing like their old enemy: the men of "The Patriarchy".

Conclusion

TERF ideology is based on an intellectual sloppiness that ignores the real complexity of sex and gender. These “gender critical feminists” have betrayed the fundamentals of real feminism in order to be able to hurt trans people.

This post is partly based on the article: Sex, gender, biology and culture in the chaos that is the transgender debate

See also: Transphobia and homophobia are two sides of the same coin

Photo of J.K. Rowling, TERF poster girl who claims that biological sex is the same as gender.

#terf #terfs #gender critical #lgbt #lgbtqa #transgender #trans

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

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Nicole's Rambling: The Avengers Problem (for PS4)

Let's start with the usual chanting: ❗this is my opinion, it's biased as hell (since I grew up with Marvel comic books and movies) and you don't have to agree❗

I was wondering why Avengers game gets so hated... So I took a look and I played it myself. Let’s have a look.

SPOILERS AHEAD

First off: the game isn't in any way horribly bad. It's just a button smasher with a story that has its good and bad beats. It's not memorable at all, but it could've gone way more downhill in my opinion.

At the start of the game, you meet the mighty Avengers through child fan's eyes - it's pure fanservice and let's be honest, it's dope. It was sweet, but pretty dragged, to be honest. I really didn't need to play as all five Avengers (HAWKEYE IS MISSING, AGAIN) in the first hour of the game, but sure, why not?

For the most part, you see the squad through Kamala Khan's eyes. For those who might have not a clue who the hell Kamala is; I am not wondering about why you don't know who the hell she is. She's a Marvel heroine who outed in 2013 and who will have her own spinoff on Disney+.

And again, Ms Marvel is fine, but not memorable at all. I've never, until this day, met anyone who would say that 'Ms Marvel is my favourite superhero'. I was halfway through the game before I even realized it's Ms Marvel - AFTER SHE PULLED HER DAMN COSTUME OUT. That can be due to my utter ignorance or because I heard of her so little that I can count it on my fingers. In all honesty, I loved Kamala as the story progressed, the gal's not bad at all - but as the whole game, she had good and bad beats. There were times where I wished to play as Iron Man and the game forced me to play as her... Whatever.

Let's look at the three problems I have with this game and three positives I found in the game:

0. (Technically zero since it's a personal problem of mine) The soundtrack and the voice actors:

By any means, I am not trying to say they should hire RDJ for the role of Iron Man and Mark Ruffalo for the role of Banner... But it was so hard to distinguish the voice of Nolan North (For example: Nathan Drake x Iron Man) and Troy Baker (Samuel Drake x Bruce Banner). For me, as for a PS4 gamer, it's annoying to hear the same voices again and again in every game I am genuinely excited about (Idk how Xbox players are familiar with them). Of course, there's even Laura Bailey as the Black Widow; I feel like these are the three only people who do voice acting for games these days and sure, I should've seen that coming.

Side note: Nolan North is not a good fit for Iron Man in the slightest in my opinion, but if you like his Iron Man, that's cool as well!

The soundtrack... M A N, the soundtrack. When I heard Marvel gave a green light to the Avengers game, I expected to hear at least the iconic Alan Silvestri's 'The Avengers'. Problem with this is simple: Marvel had spoiled its consumers with good and memorable soundtracks (don't you tell me you don't remember as they all gathered for the first time). Since it was Marvel itself who gave the green light for this project, which was supposed to be based loosely on the movies' and comic book success, I hoped to get all of it.

It's not Iron Man when AC/DC song isn't playing in the background as he flies through a canyon for his life. I mean, Iron Maiden are fine; but come on. COME ON. It's not the same. It's not the Avengers (WITHOUT HAWKEYE) without their significant theme.

1. IT. BUGS. ALL. THE. TIME and the combat is incredibly repetitive:

When I was little, I was a rage gamer. I could barely play Crash Bandicoot or Rayman without losing my cool. Since then, I grew up, skilled and etc. I try not to rage when playing games since it's simply not worth it.

But when you're replaying a boring mission for the tenth part and you're almost over and SUDDENLY, the game bugs out and you lose control over the character (it starts running in circles, etc.) it sucks shit. And don't let me start on the minor bugs. Like when you don't cross the platform by one pixel and the game doesn't let you make combos when you're in the air and bug into a tree when you bug into a wall, a rock, fucking nothing... Bruh. It was released in August, shouldn't these bugs be fixed by now? The game is fucking broken, hoes. It barely feels like a game ready to launch at times.

When you're so lucky that you don't bug out in the middle of doing something, the combat... It isn't bad. It's not terrible, but the Avengers deserved something better. It didn't deserve mediocre combat that repeats itself in every level. Once you find yourself good combo, you're done for. You can use it to finish the game if you will.

2. There's too many missions, too much information and too much things player has to understand if he wants to play the game properly:

Okay, this might seem to be a little confusing; I didn't understand the game system at all when I first ran it on my PS4. There's story missions, HARM training sessions, daily missions for particular heroes, faction missions (SHIELD, Pym, Stark, etc.) and character-side-story missions, and a lot more.

Trust me, it doesn't sound that hard, but once you open the map menu for yourself... Oh boy, that's a different story. And if it only was the map menu. The inventory and such aren't too collected all together either. Before you can safely tell what is what, it will take you at least a whole afternoon. Also, the fact that game just spills it on you just like that, one thing after another, it doesn't help the overall feel.

On top of that, there are MULTIPLE currencies in the game; some even involve microtransaction. It mostly is involving the customization of the Avengers, so it's not THAT big of a deal; you can get one currency by collecting boxes and stuff, but it takes ages before you can buy one single thingy.

Also, if you would like to get stuff (very useful stuff) from factions (SHIELD and Pym mainly), you have to do in-factions daily quests, which usually require to do a certain amount of things as a particular hero (you can do some quests with Ms Marvel only, some with Black Widow, it usually involves the damage dealt while playing as a character etc.). And if you forget to fetch these minies? Well, no faction points for you, bucko.

The system feels overall too complicated in the begging and even after finishing the game, I am not certain by some.

3. The gameplay of the one and only... Natasha Romanov, and the entirety of Steve Rogers:

Right off the bat: IT. SUCKS. SHIT.

This was your shot in opening our mouths and showing why Black Widow BELONGS to the Avengers in the first place. Like, sure, storywise you proved the point, but gameplaywise... That's a different story.

Out of the bunch, Natasha feels the slowest, most clumsy and overall not too pleasant to play as. Mainly is because her attacks do... Nothing. The gun reloading is basically constant when I have to put it simply and it takes about 3-5 seconds for her to even reload; which can be a matter of life and death inside the game. Sure, she can make herself invisible; but that's like... It. It's not that it would be suffering when you are forced to play as Nat... But not a pleasant experience either.

On the other hand, maybe it's just me. I have friends who told me the same about her gameplay, but maybe there's someone who enjoys the Black Widow. It's my personal with the entirety of the gameplay.

Steve, on the other hand, isn't hard to play as. It's just fucking boring. At the start of the game, I couldn't wait to play as Steve's character. He seemed to be awesome - Jesus fuck, how could I be so wrong? As I said, he's incredibly boring and dry, his skills would do the same amount of work if they even weren't there. I think that Rogers is there just for the shock value (as a value that doesn't even work in the slightest) and nothing more.

As you learn to do the tricks and combos with them, it gets slightly better and skill tree and equipment upgrades can help almost unnoticeable... But really, Steve and Natasha are the absolute worst.

Now the reasons why the game convinced me it isn't a hot mess as I initially thought:

1. The characters, dynamics, chemistry and the overall story:

Sure, it is mainly a basic plotline, a cookie-cutter one, full of cliché - Avengers have to regroup after a traumatic event and you're the one who has to find them and bring them together.

Yet it is quite interesting; the game leads you to believe that Steve Rogers is dead after an event called the 'A-Day' (which you won't believe even if the game does the hardest to make you to, constantly remaining you that 'Oh boy, Cap died, did you know that?') and the Avengers had left to exile because they were considered as big bad for the people and the country. They have their emotional baggage and the banter between Banner and Stark (though it ends too soon), is just the thing that makes them human and relatable.

Even the villains are quite compelling; not like ultra super convincing, but the game can turn around when you least expect it to; which is definitely a huge plus.

The characters were done GOOD. The dialogues are full of personality and jokes you'd expect from each one of them; Banner is a wallflower cutie, Tony fishes for compliments all the time, Natasha is the big independent woman she always was and Thor? CHEF'S KISS, I swear. It hits the Shakespearean vibe perfectly and at the same time, he still is charming and quite funny to hang around.

Every time you can listen to a chit-chat between two characters, it is a great pleasure for you as a Marvel fan. Also, I need to say that regardless of my personal issue with the dub (regarding Tony and Bruce; since they're the people you spend most of your time with), the dialogues for these two characters are on point without a doubt. And I kinda grew fond of the in-game Bruce Banner throughout the course of the game, to be honest.

There are references, jokes, inside jokes, one-liners... The dialogue was done amazingly and that's a huge T H A N K Y O U to the developers.

2. The mind-blowing gameplay of... Tony Stark and Thor and AI, while not being too bright, getting stronger as you do:

In what the Natasha gameplay lacks, these two give you exactly what would you expect and way, way more than you'd ask for. Again, it mainly reflects the personal gameplay preferences of the player; let me tell you why I think these gameplays are, in my opinion, the best.

a) Tony's gadgets and weaponry: The suit itself is bloody brilliant. Once you master the ability to attack and fly at the same time, you have the moments when you can not only feel like Iron Man - but really be Iron Man. It's not even that your gameplay would suddenly become 10x easier; it significantly becomes funnier.

b) Thor's heavy fist-to-fist and Mjolnir preferences: the Mjolnir is bloody brilliant as well. Thor's combat is mainly physically based, but when you want to throw the hammer around like the madman you are, you can suit yourself. You can use the lightning if you please and you can fly if this style of combat suits you. It's all in your hands. Thor can take quite a bit of damage, which is significantly supporting you in this style. If you accidentally drop Mjolnir? Well, call it back and smash them!

Also, regarding the AI... As I said, they're certainly not the brightest sparks in the flame; yet thanks to the power getting bigger as you level up and continue with your story and a huge variety of enemies - from turrets to flying men with flamethrowers. It is just button smasher, but a pleasing one in this regard, I must say.

3. The fanservice to comic book fans, movie fans and loyalty to the property:

As one IGN review once said... "This game makes you feel like Batman." And this game more or less accomplished it as well, but diluted and stripped down. Of course, in no way I can compare this to the masterpiece to the Arkham saga; these games are brilliant.

But there are moments when the game can just drag you inside the story and tell you: "You're Iron Man now, boss. It's in your hands." And it's there. I think the only issue was that the team of devs just took too big of a bite. I wouldn't mind stand-alone titles emerging into one and big Avengers game. That would be fun as well and I would spend my time with it gladly.

To end it: it's a mess, but a good mess you might like. If I was to rate it, would be 5.1/10 Wait until it is on sale, don't rush it. I'm overall disappointed and I most likely will forget I have ever played it.

#avengers #marvel's avengers #avnegers ps4 game #avengers game #black widow #captain america #iron man #ms marvel #the incredible hulk #nicole's rambling #thor #WHERE DID YOU LEAVE CLINT #WHERE IS HE #Marvel Comics #why the fuck did you do

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alchemist-shizun · 4 years

Text

Patet omnibus libertas

AU belongs to @pistachiolan and the first scene is inspired by this post. Check the notes for more info!

See the wonderful fanart!

Read on Ao3!

General taglist: @whizzie72 @sapphire-knight @burningpersonflapsuitcase @softanxiouspatton @royallyanxious @kim-argent-moon (tell me if you want to be added or removed)

Word Count: 3,048

Characters: Virgil, Roman, Logan, Patton, Thomas, Remus (mentioned)

Pairing(s): Prinxiety

Warning(s): Major character death (apparent), graphic descriptions of violence, blood, kissing. (The majority of these warnings are for the first scene but it's a nightmare, you can skip to "Virgil surged up on his bed")

Summary: Conflicted feelings in a time of disorientation. Virgil, a former Heretic, had been captured and is now back to his village, thanks to a ... little deity's will. Roman, the knight protector of that land, had been against his return since the beginning. Things of course change the more he gets attached to the boy and, with the help of poetry, things could finally bloom.

A/N: Get ready for literary chronological discrepancies because I love quotes you can fight me. Okay I may or may not have added a bunch of ideas or details of mine for narration purposes oops-- Anyhow, I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you all enjoy it too! And sorry for that first weird bit but I wanted to see if I was able to write a gruesome scene. Don't forget to check out @pistachiolan's profile for their fantastically marvellous au which you can find in their blog under the #TsCultAu tag, I tell you guys, their idea is MINDBLOWING and the art is just as good and it's so so so worth to follow if you don't you're straight. So yeah, I'm here to fix their angst with some nice fluff (after some more angst), enjoy your time here~

✾

The first image of red Virgil noticed was a flash of light in the corner of his eye; something pressed hard against his back and forced his downfall to inexorably begin.

He crashed against the earth, his nails digging in the dirt as pain numbed his senses only to regain them again and devastate his perceiving.

Failing to get back on his feet he could only manage to roll on his back and be met with the worst fate he ever feared.

There Roman stood, in all the mighty glory Virgil had always pleasantly basked under. Looking down at him with a distasteful expression adorning his face.

And his hand ghosting over his weapon.

Virgil's eyes widened, his fight or flight senses overproducing a shot of panic over his chest; he may have yelled, cried for someone's name or help, but everything felt so blurry and his limbs just too heavy.

It was as if he was … remembering instead of experiencing.

He remembered calling Remus's name in vain, as he noticed his expression growing blank as though in a daze.

The twin binding. A connection that messed with his mind so much that a simple hesitation caused by it could determine the adverse outcome of the Fates.

Time had slowed down, its passage becoming almost imperceptible.

« Die, you demon! »

And, when it started up again, it was no longer a memory.

Virgil sealed his eyes shut as Roman's sword swung in his direction, wishing for some kind of invisible protection to be laid on him, or, even better, for him to wake up and realize-

It was too late.

All lies, the ones that granted feasibility when you wished upon a star.

Nothing came for Virgil. Nothing but a steel blade slashing right through his body. His lungs filled with blood, the vermilion substance roughly rose up to his throat and stained his lips with doleful spatters, a trickle dripped down his chin and splattered against the fair skin of his hand.

He had … turned human again?

Virgil was hunched over himself, placing his hands on the exact meeting point between his chest and the sharpness of the sword. His hands were smeared with blood and red started being all he could feel and see around himself.

Just like that, Roman withdrew his sword only to dive back in and push the blade further in, tip protruding on the other side and loudly dripping with the same red vital fluid.

Virgil gasped for air that never came, instead, the void filled him, ready to take over what was soon to be his lifeless body.

Everything was red. His vision, his clothes, his skin. Roman.

Roman was red and he had learnt to love it.

Now Roman had caused that terrific madness of red all around them. Should he love that, too? Should he welcome it, at that point?

It was a tragedy that had made him delirious. Maybe he deserved that, he was sure the other would have agreed, rendered in that condition.

« You do. » venom words hit Virgil's face as Roman leaned in, still pressing the weapon angrily against the boy's chest.

What? He … wasn't … talking?

« The ones of your likes, » he began, watching as more gushes of blood dirtied the grass and contrasted the white in his own clothes in an almost blinding manner. « Deserve to cease existing at once. »

Virgil hadn't noticed Roman was now aiming at his heart. He didn't mind anymore, as he had already broken it by tearing it apart for so long.

And, when the distance between the sword and the entrance to his heart coincided, Virgil closed his eyes and, to his destiny, he miserably resigned.

And he woke up.

Virgil surged up on his bed, breathing heavily in a way he couldn't have done in the nightmare, as if he were regaining the air that had been neglected to his oniric self.

His trembling hands went at once to his chest were his untouched skin was covered by a layer of thin clothing, almost as white as his arms looked under the moonbeam.

Not real. Virgil's hands covered his eyes while he tried to steady his heartbeat.

Nothing of that happened. It's not real.

Time had passed before he decided to get up; who cares if they caught him awake at abominable hours and sent him suspicious glances. Ironically enough, he did need air.

Like an undead monster wounded by the bothersome hunter, Virgil dragged his feet against the cold pavement, a hand resting against the wall in support.

Adjusting to the darkness, he noticed the entrance to a room lit up in a faint warm colour. He knew he shouldn't have approached, but it was far too early in the morning to make clever decisions.

Whispers came from the space. Virgil peeked for only an instant.

« What do we even need him for? » that was Roman's voice.

Yeah, he really should have stepped away.

« Now, I'm sure there is a good reason for that. » Patton chimed in.

Virgil's hand brushed the bricks of the entrance.

« We know who he is, Patton. He used to literally look like a monster. »

Then, he retracted it immediately.

« I don't want to hear any of that! » Patton's voice slipped, a bit higher than intended, his eyes growing wide with realization, but Virgil didn't see that as silence fell over the room.

He quietly apologized. « I just … I want to trust Thomas. »

Virgil breathed out deeply. You're going to end up hurting yourself.

« I want to, too, but- »

« Roman, » Logan was there, too? He had just recently joined, not much longer after Virgil's … little incident.

« Virgil seems like a good person. »

« Yes. » Patton agreed softly. « The poor boy looks too scared to even talk, too. » he added with a sad tone in his voice.

Virgil knew Patton had tried to befriend him ever since he had started working with the high priest.

He sighed and looked at his hands. Sometimes, distinguishing reality from mendacity was a matter of a little detail.

Sometimes, Virgil wasn't even sure what had happened in his life and what were mere creations completed in his mind. What one would have been sure of, though, was that he was going to be scarred for an awfully prolonged time.

He had his back against the wall, thoughts going back to his horrible sleep.

Oh, how it stung.

Why did it have to be Roman? Why couldn't it have been a stranger like in everybody else's dreams? No, he was cursed to live his capturing over and over again, but with the worst possible outcomes played in front of his eyes that didn't really ever happen.

But most of all, why did it have to still hurt so much?

« Are you lost? »

Virgil was an inch close to jump right out of his skin. Thomas himself had appeared almost glowing in the dark right behind him in his almighty godly appearance, now peeking at the scene in the room.

« Oh, » he emitted, thoughtfully, as the conversation started making sense to him.

« Don't worry. Just don't break the rules and play nice. I'm sure you will all get along, eventually. »

Keeping up the façade could have been hard if his memories didn't make him terrified at that moment. « I hope so. »

Thomas smiled warmly at him. « Go back to sleep, Virgil. »

Almost automatically, that he did.

✾✾✾

Weeks had passed. Maybe months. Maybe more. Time isn't real when you don't keep track of it.

Thus, Roman was confused.

No, he wasn't confused by the concept of time itself, but how its action affected your own senses.

For instance, relationships.

The passage of time permitted one to develop their relations with others. Even for the better!

That was what confused Roman.

He had been hostile to Virgil since he joined, sure, but it was time that made things different and strange.

Because it made him tolerate Virgil more with every interaction, it made his chest feel lighter when he learnt new things about him. It made him grow so accustomed to the boy that, at times, Roman himself was the one to seek him out.

Yet …

« I feel like there's something wrong. » he had told Patton one day, when he looked for the best person's opinion he could find on the subject of feelings.

« With? » Patton tilted his head to the side, encouraging him to elaborate.

« Myself? » Roman shrugged slowly, then he pursed his lips. « I feel like a hypocrite. »

« Why would that be? » Patton's tone clearly stated a subtle “I assure you you're not.” « Did you have an argument with someone? »

The knight made a face. « I've had too many. »

The other made him sit down on a stony surface within the frontal garden.

« It's … Virgil. I- Well, it's weird. We're getting along now, despite everything that's happened. All I've said. » he sighed and brushed his face for a moment. « It doesn't feel right on my account. »

« Well, if you feel bad about it, why don't you simply apologize to him? That'll lift some weight off of you. » Patton offered, while his feet tickled the radiant flowers on the grass.

« Maybe … » Roman still didn't feel entirely convinced, as if some limit were preventing him from opening up completely.

« Tell him how you feel. I'm sure he'll understand. »

The knight stifled a laugh. « I don't even want to admit to myself how I feel. » his voice had gotten softer, the same way the gentle breeze kissed his cheeks.

Patton turned to him, he waited because he knew there was something more to that. When his friend spoke again, he fought a wide smile to spread across his face.

« … About him. » Roman finally finished, looking at the ground as though he were to stare at the sunset in the distance after a victorious journey. Eyes narrowed and clouded memories.

« You don't have to tell my anything you don't want to. » Patton watched as the other nodded slightly. « Just know that he'd love to hear what you have to say. »

That was when Roman had enough willpower to get up. « Right. Thank you. » he didn't look away from the building, a buzzing feeling in his chest.

« Ro- »

« Yes? »

Patton blinked a couple of times. Was that how anxiety looked like on other people?

« You can find him in the library. » he informed, subtly amused.

A “thank you” was heard as Roman practically sprinted towards the construction; Patton let out the laughter he had been holding.

Roman was surely one of the bravest knights he had ever met, but he still did manage to be that endearing when it came to being sentimental.

« Goodness gracious. » he shook his head and went back to his task.

✾✾✾

And the library was where Virgil was, lost in thought as his eyes skittered over yellowish pages of ancient manuscripts, different alphabets tried to confuse his mind.

His sensed heightened as he heard quick steps growing closer; he shut the book he was holding between one of his fingers and turned to the entrance, almost expectant.

When Roman appeared, he had to kill the profound joy that threatened to manifest on his face.

« Hey. »

« Hello. »

The knight approached him, unsure of how to act. Virgil noticed he was far more nervous than how nonchalant he acted any other day.

« Am I bothering you, or ...? »

Virgil pointed to his book. « I was merely reading. »

« Oh- sorry, may I visit another- »

« Roman, » he almost snorted. « It's just poetry. »

Roman's face lit up in an instant. « I love poetry!��» he stepped closer, so that he could see the cover of the book.

« Archaic Greek lyric. » Virgil clarified, showing a page full of poets' names; the knight, curse his ignorance on the matter, had never heard any of them.

As he tried to implement some names in his mind, Virgil closed the book again.

« What are you here for? »

Okay then. Let's do this.

« I realized I never really went back on all my wrongdoings to you. » he admitted. « So I wanted to apologize for all the things I've said in the past. I am truly deeply sorry. »

« It's alright, just like you said: they're in the past. » Virgil's expression actually hinted at gratefulness.

« Please, you must accept it or it won't stop eating at me. »

He really had to stop himself from tackling him in a tight hug.

« Yes, okay. I forgive you, Roman. » Virgil's eyes glanced at him with a soft gaze.

Roman responded with a sweet smile. « Thank you. » then, when the silence felt enough for both of them, unable to say anything more despite everything they felt for each other, his interest went back to the book.

« So, you like ancient stuff? »

« It would be ironic for me to learn ancient Greek and then despise all the literature behind it. »

« Wait, what? » Roman's pitch got higher with shock. « You learnt it? »

« It's fundamental to the kind of education I wanted to get. » Virgil shrugged, opening the collection once again to avoid the other's stare.

Until he felt Roman's hands place on his arm and pulling him towards the stained glass window.

« Read for me? » the hopeful veil on the knight's face was almost impossible to ignore and not satisfy.

The boy looked down again, his fingertips going over the verses; when he read the original version, it all sounded like a kind chanting that seemed to make actual sense if Roman had only known what it meant. Virgil's magnificent voice was able to let him understand the themes of the poem through the honey-like melody the metric allowed.

« This is Sappho. The 31st fragment. » Virgil still didn't look up.

« What does it say? »

« He seems like the gods’ equal, that man, whoever he is, who takes his seat so close across from you- » a pair of hands went over his, pushing the book down so Virgil wasn't able to check it.

Roman's face seemed to say "I know you can do it." but actually meant "I saw your eyes didn't move while reading, you know it by heart."

And also a subtle "I'd like to dream you're dedicating this to me."

«A- and listens raptly to your lilting voice, » Virgil stammered at first, trying not to get mesmerized by Roman gazing directly into his eyes, almost as though he were expecting something out of him.

« And lovely laughter, which, as it wafts by, sets the heart in my ribcage fluttering. » he felt the unanimity between the poem and himself. « As soon as I glance at you a moment, » silence lingered in function of the other hemistich. « I can’t say a thing, and my tongue stiffens into silence. »

The warmth of Roman's skin was still surrounding his hands. « Thin flames underneath my skin prickle and spark, a rush of blood booms in my ears, » Virgil's were slightly ringing. « and then my eyes go dark, and sweat pours coldly over me, and all my body shakes, suddenly sallower than summer grass. »

The last verse was Virgil's favorite, he savored every syllable on his tongue. « And death, I fear and feel, is very near. »

Bewildered by the boy's knowledge, Roman was almost unable to understand he had finished.

Virgil, obviously panicking upon realizing what he had just recited and how long he'd been daydreaming of dedicating it to the other, tried to rely on his education to fill the silence.

He looked down. « This- Uhm, this was also written similarly in Latin by Catu- »

« In vain I have struggled. » Roman barged in, he both looked like he needed to get the words out and like he was still looking for said words.

« It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. » he was gripping so tightly at Virgil's hands that the book fell between their feet, with a thump none of them actually cared about hearing.

Almost automatically, he intertwined their fingers. « You must allow me to tell you, » a sensation of deep adrenaline took over his chest and his utmost impulsive tendencies pushed him to reveal his deepest sentiments.

« How ardently I admire, » and when push comes to shove, you can't ignore the violent crashing of your heart against your chest. Roman's hands traveled up to Virgil's cheeks.

« And love you. » the shove became the dive into the abyss and the wish became reality when Roman kissed Virgil's lips soft and longingly, telling him everything poetic and literary words couldn't.

As they parted, Virgil fought the instinct to surge forward again; he slowly opened his eyes, blinking at the harsh light coming from the stained glass next to them.

« Pride and Prejudice? » he asked, dumbfounded by what had just happened.

Roman smiled and started stepping away. « Had a sudden thought and needed to let it out. » he took Virgil's hand. « I will gladly speak with you about literature again, when my knightly duties won't come in between our time together. » he then brought it to his lips. « Until then, » and placed a kiss on his knuckles.

As Roman walked away, gifting him one last love-infused smile, Virgil was sure of one thing.

That one nightmare he had a long while back actually did predict the future: Roman was going to be the death of him, after all.

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