#she is complicit in that violence! and she doesn’t want to face it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chalkrevelations · 1 year

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Further to this :

I’m posting one more time on this, and then I’m hoping I’m done. But I continue to see bad-faith takes on the settlement statements that were released this week, and I’m so done with the double standard from so many people in Kinnporsche fandom who have spent the past three+ months engaged in hypocritical bullying and victim-blaming and/or remaining damningly silent in the face of actual, public and visible abuse of Build Jakapan.

This wasn’t even a he-said, she-said situation. This was a months-long campaign of cyber-bullying, harassment and abuse – verbal, emotional and psychological – that Poi carried out against Build online, in the open, with no attempts to hide it. We saw her abuse him, repeatedly. We saw her be homophobic toward him, and not only did everyone who was ready to rush into battle against Build for supposedly being homophobic while making money off the queer community now stay silent about it, Poi got almost 10K retweets of it, so all those people who’ve wanted to cancel Build since last summer? We can see how much their allyship is actually worth. We saw the release of the VP novel with his bruised, bloody and battered face on the cover like some kind of disgusting revenge fantasy splayed out in public. We saw her release messages about sexual matters that were insinuated to be his private messages – which, like everything she’s ever posted, have not been verified as real and correct, in the setting of her admission of lying and faking and making false accusations with other material she released. But if they were real, the release of those messages would be on the same spectrum as revenge porn. We watched her commit outright theft of his belongings, and we watched her lie about his words and actions in an attempt to drive a wedge between him and his fans, we watched her punch down at those fans by invading their privacy as surely as she invaded his, we watched her make it all as filthy and gross and mercenary as she could in order to besmirch it as much as she could, watched her laugh about how much fans cared about him like he doesn’t deserve any kind of care or concern, like he’s a dog she can kick around without repercussion.

And antis joined in that abuse, plenty of people in the fandom were complicit in it – lies were collected and reblogged and spread around as supposed receipts of what a terrible person he was, by people who repeatedly represented themselves as “neutral,” without the least bit of concern for the provenance of those rumors, which were already in unbelievable supervillain territory and sure enough, turned out to be actual legal slander. People posted things like “burn in hell,” or made and spread vile memes when he left BOC like the whole thing was something funny, to laugh about, rather than a serious issue like accusations of intimate partner violence. He was called trash, garbage, an incel – at the same time people were vilifying him for supposedly cheating on Poi, so which is it? Is he an incel or was he fucking half of Bangkok? In one of the most breathtaking instances of victim-blaming I’ve seen in a long time, people amplified and spread the lie that he slept with Poi to get his role like it was some kind of gotcha, as if – had it been true – that wouldn’t have been evidence of Poi’s harassment and sexual abuse of him. The casting couch isn’t any less abusive when a man is subject to it than when a woman is subject to it. If it's gross and abusive for Harvey Weinstein to do it, then it would be gross and abusive for Poi to do it, and the way some people acted like it would somehow be Build’s fault? I’m sure every actress in Hollywood would love to hear that. Or would it be OK because he’s a man? Because that sounds awfully close to those creeps who say that teenaged boys should think they’re lucky when their female teachers molest them. (Or maybe when women in power over them on the filming set coerce them into giving massages?)

And as we saw all this happen – even as people patted themselves on the back and reassured each other that this wasn’t a witch-hunt, that it wasn’t an online mob working itself into a frenzy - 99.5 percent of the people who had been so very concerned with compiling and spreading everything and the kitchen sink during the initial feeding frenzy on Build went aggressively silent in the face of Build’s legal claims, including defamation, coercion and other abusive behavior by Poi. Suddenly, we started getting calls for circumspection and civility - aka silence - now that Build and his reputation and his career already had been savaged. Now that it was becoming evident that these same people were complicit in her abuse of him and had helped create the very scenario he said that she had threatened and kept him under control with. Now that they had helped an abuser get their satisfaction during what is traditionally the most dangerous time for abuse victims – when they try to leave.

Suddenly people were just done with all of this, just so very tired of it - now that the damage was done, and what was left was clean-up of the havoc they had helped wreak.

This fandom has done nothing to change my opinion that this whole debacle was never actually about genuine concern over intimate partner violence, but was rooted in shipwars - going all the way back to last summer, when someone went digging back through Build’s socials to find comments eight years old that could be blown up by Twitter cancel culture just as the Vegaspete storyline kicked off, VP was increasingly pulling attention, and BBB’s facetime was increasing. Not a single thing I’ve seen since then – since Build was identified as the soft target of the VP ship and discourse around him was poisoned by purity cancel culture – has convinced me otherwise.

People in this fandom took a deadly serious issue like intimate partner violence, and they used it as a tool for their petty shipwars, and they used it to get a little hit of self-righteousness, as a little “moral” crusade that allowed them to get their Two-Minute Hate on in a way that was deemed socially acceptable and gave them a taste of blood because it was wildly successful in the real world in a way keyboard slacktivism rarely is. It’s very telling, though, how much concern they actually seem to have for abuse survivors when they won’t even call out abusive behavior happening publicly, right in front of their faces. I guess some abuse victims do have to be perfect, or maybe it’s that some people do deserve to be abused, despite the claims when people were simping for Poi?

It’s very telling when their biggest concern appears to be using abuse claims as a cudgel to make themselves feel righteous - because it appears that’s all Poi ever really was, a tool for some people in KP fandom to beat Build with. If they actually, honestly gave a shit about her, someone would have shown concern about her mental health and whether she has any kind of support network at all, rather than egging her on, encouraging and amplifying her abusive and out-of-control behavior online. I’m not going to deny that I dislike Poi, that I’ve found her distasteful and incredibly off-putting since watching her behind-the-scenes behavior with the KP cast, including trying to yank Build to the edge of a balcony on a high-rise building as he tried to resist and laughing about being called out by Jeff for sexual harassment of a minor. But one of the things that I also found disturbing about this whole debacle was the way people encouraged and enjoyed - relished - behavior that ought to be concerning for her mental health.

And even now, I’ve seen people act as if the behavior that Poi and Build have admitted to in their statements was equally bad. Sorry, no, him secretly recording a conversation that was evidence of her abusive behavior is not equivalent to her faking pregnancy claims against him and insinuating that he was the reason she got an abortion or miscarried. I’m sure all abusers would love it if conversations in which they talk about their abusive behavior were kept private and secret, but I'm extremely suspicious of anyone who wants to act like that recording shouldn't be released - they should ask themselves why they're ok with abuse being covered up.

Would they call a woman who secretly recorded evidence of being abused a liar?

(ETA 5/15, 1630 - Several people have messaged me to let me know this post has breached containment and is loose on Twitter. I would respectfully request that everyone follow Build’s own expressed wishes - and mine - and do not engage with antis. This includes @ing specific people with links to this. I could have attached individual names to many of the bad-faith behaviors I talk about in the post, but there are reasons I didn’t. People have already spent three months punching down at Build’s fans, as well as at him. The behavior of his fans reflects on him - however unfair that may be - and must remain above reproach. That includes not picking individual fights. If someone is encouraging this, consider that they are likely a plant, a fake fan trying to goad others into bad behavior to try to make Build look bad. If I find out anyone has done this, I will block you. Thanks.)

#build jakapan #kinnporsche cast

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separatist-apologist · 2 years

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why on earth do ppl call Lucien an abuser apologist? like how is he one? Him being unable to properly stand up for himself was so fucking understandable give the fact he grew up in an abusive household and then ended up with tamlin who also low key treated him like shit. Lucien has been stifled and pushed down (by tamlin a lil an his brothers) an yet he feels this loyalty to tamlin because he saved him. He’s unable to stand up to him because he feels this twisted loyalty to him. doesn’t that happen to so many fucking ppl in real like? an Lucien tried so hard for feyre even when HE was also a victim of so much abuse. it’s so random to me because I love Lucien an I love feysand, but some of these feysand stans say such ridiculous things abt the other characters yet never call out feyre or rhys on their shit. like Luciens an abuser apologist? hell no.

#i love Lucien vanserra

I wasn't going to respond to this but I'm doing some work stuff and it's on my mind.

I think there are two things when it comes to abuse and abuse apologism in the fandom.

SJM addresses it very poorly narratively and the readers pick up what she's saying. Sometimes I think she likes to sprinkle in a little sexual assault/domestic violence just to make things spicy but she doesn't want to follow through with it. So Rhys/Lucien are suffering...but only when it's narratively convenient and then they're not. Everyone KNOWS they're suffering...until it doesn't serve her anymore. And that's a problem because why should the fans care if, say, Feyre thinks that Lucien did nothing to help her or what he did wasn't enough? She thinks it, the author wrote that and even if we're not meant to agree (and I think we were), it gets said and people genuinely DO feel that way. Which takes me to my second point

this fandom fucking has 0 ability to address nuanced topics. Look at how Gwyn has been spoken about, how sexual assault gets weaponized for ships, and how people truly buy into "perfect victim" narratives, or the media shiny belief that you're somehow "broken" or "damaged" or otherwise incapable of moving forward once this happens. For Lucien specifically, he often gets painted with the "your parents are abusers so naturally you are too" brush and SJM uses it LIBERALLY all over the place.

Tomas Mandray is said to be a bad option for Nesta because his dad hits his mother (though we later find out this is true, he's a bad person not BECAUSE he has abusive parents). Eris (and his brothers) are merely extensions of Beron's worst impulses. The fandom loves to dunk on Lucien as being just like Beron and I've seen many, MANY bad takes where someone is calling Lucien out for being like Beron/drawing comparisons between Elain and the LOA. And part of that isn't even unreasonable because those are the authors opinions, too (though Lucien is Helion's son, which distances him from Beron and I know people like to pretend that's not canon)

Additionally, I do think a lot of people just don't think men can suffer from abuse and if they do, it's not as bad. So Lucien and Feyre are both suffering but hers is worse and Lucien is complicit for not killing Tamlin. Again, there is no nuance and if you attempt to inject it, people get angry because they take these books too personally. But these are real-life attitudes merely magnified in fiction which is why I'm always harping that analysis for these books too heavily focus on individual readers and not the authors on attitudes or the attitudes of the society we live in. SJM is merely reflecting the world we live in. Lucien just didn't try hard enough. He sided with Tamlin, he helped Hybern, blah blah blah.

Lucien lacks power across the board. He's the only person who helps Feyre in tangible ways when she's human and beneath the mountain- from screaming BEHIND YOU with the worm, to refusing to give up her name knowing he's going to die, and fixing her face and giving her a blanket in her cell, Lucien puts his body in front of Feryes over and over and over again. He does it because she is part of his court but in ACOWAR Lucien also says he's her friend. He's the only person, between the push-pull of Rhys and Tamlin, who is doing things because he is concerned about HER and not because he wants to fuck her.

And I know the criticism in ACOMAF is he tried to drag her back to Tamlin and ignored her letter, but Lucien didn't fucking know Rhys wasn't a piece of shit. In her mind, Feyre condemns him for thinking Rhys is, but the last interaction Lucien and Rhys have is Rhys in his mind about to kill him, and the time before that is him taunting Lucien about his dead love and his mother getting assaulted by his father. The author likes to ignore the things she wrote, but in order to prop Rhys up in ACOMAF, she just...ignores huge sections on ACOTAR.

And I think, finally, Feyre is the one who invites Lucien to Velaris. He keeps her secret all through ACOWAR when he knows she's lying. He teams up with her against his best friend on more than one occasion and out of everyone serving beneath a High Lord, Lucien is consistently the only person who defies orders in order to give Feyre help/information (Cassian and Azriel and Amren all hide that pregnancy, but Lucien defies Tamlin with the bogge and again when they just leave Spring behind after Ianthes hands get wrecked).

Anyway, I didn't mean to offer such a passioned defense of Lucien but if you stan Feyre and not Lucien RIP i guess. She considers him her friend, she brought him to Velaris with her, and Lucien still goes to Spring even though Tamlin uses him like a punching bag in order to ensure HER safety. He's the person who goes back when they find out she's pregnant to keep Tamlin from doing something foolish. He's keeping the human lands together for HER and HER court.

They're friends, die mad about it I guess

#feyre and lucien brotp is my favorite thing #i dont trust anyone who doesnt like lucien but stans feyre #hes her only before friend #and the only person that rhys didnt hand pick for her #this isnt anti rhys btw #it IS sjm critical though #her narrative is a problem #and i wish we could talk about it instead of fighting each oter

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faebirdie · 2 years

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Bionic Exile: Chapter 12

Series Masterlist / Personal Masterlist

Summary: Takeshi goes on his first mission with the squad and you just try to cope.

Coauthor: @lacontroller1991

Warnings: canon complicit violence, mind manipulation, lots of angst, cursing

Word Count: 2,561

The ride back to the apartment is silent aside from Rick’s fingers tap, tap, tapping against the steering wheel to the soft music.

“You know he’ll be fine, right?” You glance over to him at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah, I know he’ll be fine. Of course he will,” A shaky breath cuts you off, “But what if he’s not?” Rick takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips, lighting kissing your knuckles.

“Why don’t we watch a movie when we get home? One of those cheesy action flicks you like.”

“That sounds great.”

—-------

“So does she ever get confused on who’s who when it comes to sex,” Harley asks, completely unprompted, “Come on McSteamy, I’m talking to you.” “Do you do this to Rick?”

“She does it to everyone,” DuBois replies, looking over to where Harley sits, now singing along to a song playing only in her head, rocking her body to the unheard beat causing Takeshi to raise his eyebrow at DuBois, silently asking for an explanation. Robert sighs. “She does that too.”

“Great,” he grumbles, mindlessly fidgeting with the rifle Rick had given him along with the armorer. He had wanted to use his own weapons that he brought from Bay City, but Waller and Rick had immediately vetoed that. “Have you guys been briefed yet?”

“Flag normally does that while we’re on our way!” Harley yells into the mic of her headset and Tak has to stop himself from cringing.

“There’s a threat. We’re going to take it out. Simple as that.”

“That’s not much of a plan, mate.”

“Form one. I could do this by myself but Waller sent you guys with me.” Tak looks away, deep in thought. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Maybe it’ll get back to Waller and she’ll pull him off the task force, but for some reason, Tak can’t bring himself to care. Until he pictures your disapproving face. “Look, we’ll form two teams, flank the combatant on either side and hold positions. Do whatever you gotta do but make sure it’s dead.”

—-------

Rick’s arm inches closer and closer around your shoulders, but he’s not really sure how to approach your still frame. He had thought that one on one time with you and only you would be fun, but the way you hug yourself as you stare mindlessly at the tv proves otherwise and he’s about had it.

“Are you like this when I’m gone?” The question stirs you out of your thoughts, pulling your attention towards the man next to you.

“What?”

“Are you like this when I’m gone,” he gestures to the way you perch yourself on the couch, your phone within a reaching distance. “Are you this cold with Tak?”

Your eye twitches. How dare he ask something like that? “You really don’t have a damn clue.”

Rick softens at your tone, a sudden reminder of how scared you’ve been each time he’s left in the past. “I’m trying to learn. Please, talk to me. Say something,” Rick begs, gripping onto your arm as you thaw with his touch, letting out a shaky breath.

“When you’re gone, I cry myself to sleep. Recently, yes. In Tak’s arms. But that doesn’t make it better. I’m afraid to fall asleep because all I see when I dream are memories of last year. Everytime I try to shut my eyes, I just see you on the stretcher in that damn hospital with those tubes and wires sticking out of you every which way and me in the background, watching helplessly as they saved your life. Not able to do a damned thing. I wake up each night you’re gone, screaming for you. Terrified. And I have only been able to just slightly calm down after Tak holds me and reminds me that you are still here. And even then, in the back of my mind, I know that can always change. Now I have to deal with that for both of you.” You pull a gasp of air into your lungs, only able to judge how long you’ve been ranting by your need for oxygen, “This, me just sitting here, not talking is nothing, Rick. So please, just try to be understanding,” you crawl onto Rick’s lap and wrap around him, burying your head in his neck as his arms wrap around you. “I just want you both to be safe.”

Rick presses a kiss to the top of your head as he strokes your back. “He’s going to be fine, baby. We’re both going to be fine.”

—-------

Tak is not fine. Far from it in fact. Never in all his years of training with Quell and CTAC had he seen such a disarray of chaotic fighting, but what he sees here in the streets of Havana has him questioning all sanity. “Quinn, get the fuck down!” Takeshi’s voice booms as he dives to his right, tumbling across the asphalt and just barely escaping a large truck being thrown towards them. Where the fuck did that even come from? Harley isn’t as lucky. She gets decked by the corner of the vehicle and crashes onto the hood of a nearby car. Tak watches then as one of the army rangers that had been sent along with the squad gets picked up by an unseen force and hurled against a nearby building. His body slumps to the ground limply though Tak is unable to tell whether he is dead or just unconscious.

“Fuck.” Managing to pull his bruised and sore body up from the ground, Takeshi moves quickly to position himself behind a flipped over van where he will have at least partial cover before angling his rifle towards the creator of all of this chaos. Standing in the middle of the destroyed street is a pale man dressed in completely drab clothing except for the black glove on his right hand, which glows with a bizarre purple light. Tak aims straight for the man's head, but once again can’t believe his eyes as he pulls the trigger. The bullets swerve around his adversary. Round after round somehow manages to miss their target, but they do get his attention. The man, tall and lanky, then turns to Tak and begins to take short, precise steps towards him. Tak throws the rifle down and grabs two knives from their holsters on his side. “Come on then, you motherfucker.”

With a swipe of his attacker's gloved hand as he nears, the car Tak stands behind is lifted and heaved towards his head, just high enough for the envoy to duck and avoid.

“Is that all you got?” He spits out and stands back up to his full height, before taking a step forward.

The person steps back with a chuckle, his eyes gleaming with anger as he raises his arm outwards and points a finger in Tak’s direction.

“Not in the slightest.”

—-------

Rick places his card over the scanner, granting him and you access to an unused room. After much convincing on your part, Rick finally caved and agreed to let you watch the mission. Normally, it’s classified unless you were on the comms team, but how could he say no to your pleading eyes.

“These computers should still be functional. We can’t stay here for long though, darlin’. We’re only here to see how he’s holding up. Right?”

You stand behind Rick, Takeshi’s coat wrapped around your body as you nod your head. Realistically, you know your Envoy is fine, but with any mission, there is always the nagging feeling that accompanies you. And this being his first with the team makes it all the worse. “Yeah, I just wanna see how he’s doing.”

Rick nods, typing in his own code and pulling up the surveillance in the area. Shock and confusion begin to set in at the scene playing out in front of you both. “What the fuck is he doing just standin’ there?”

You easily push Rick to the side and stare down at the screen, the hacked security cam footage showing you two small figures who appear to be Takeshi and the enemy standing across from each other, a purplish light surrounding the Envoy who stands completely still in his spot. Your brows furrow together as you bang the computer with your fist, hoping the signal is simply frozen. Rick is quick to pull your hands away from the screen as he calms you and points to the corner. “This is live feed, darlin’. See?” your eyes follow his movement and see some trash rolling in the breeze, but still, Tak and the person remain still.

“What’s going on? Why isn’t he moving?”

“I don’t know, maybe it has somethin’ to do with that thing on his hand?” A shiver runs down your spine and you wish you were there with him, helping him, instead of watching him fight on a screen from thousands of miles away. Placing your hand on the screen, you lean your head on the box as a tear slips out.

“Please come back to me.”

—-------

Tak feels foggy. Like he’s out of place. He knows he’s walking down a corridor in Belle Reve, but he can’t seem to remember why or how he got there. His hands are stuffed in his jacket pockets and his head hangs low. It all feels off. As he continues to walk down the hallway, he’s quick to spot you and Rick, walking side by side and holding hands. “Hey Flag, (Y/N)!” He jogs down the hall towards the pair of you, who he’s surprised make no move to greet him. Coming to a stop in front of the both of you, a frown falls on his face when he sees the way you stare at your shoes, refusing to look at him and then Rick’s clenching jaw. “What’s wrong?”

Rick is the first to face the Envoy, pushing you behind his large frame and grabbing a fistful of Tak’s jacket, hoisting the man into the air. What the hell? Tak thinks to himself as Rick scowls. “Who the fuck do you think you are showing your face around here? You’re lucky I don’t kill you.”

Tak quickly break’s Rick’s hold on him and shoves the special ops agent back, giving them space. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on,” his eyes tear away from Rick and fall onto you. “Baby? What’s going on?”

You step out from behind Rick, and push your hair back; dark sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, and a pale complexion adorn your face, way different than the one that usually greets Tak. “If I’d known it would always be her, I would’ve kicked you back through the portal myself. I don’t want you around me, Kovacs. Leave me alone, you’ve already done enough damage.” You start to walk away and Tak tries to reach out but is blocked by Rick’s solid frame.

“Look murderer, she told you to leave her alone. Now leave. Her. Alone.” Rick shoves Takeshi back as Tak’s thoughts race. What the fuck is going on? What did I do? Why does this feel wrong?

“(Y/N). Don’t leave. I love you!” Tak falls to his knees, a heavy weight crushing down on him and making it impossible to breathe. His hazel eyes fall to the floor and barely catch the top of your shoes. “You ruined that, Kesh. I don’t love you anymore. Goodbye.” With that, you take Rick’s hands and walk away and out of Takeshi’s life.

—-------

Harley’s vision slowly starts to come back to her, though still hazy, as she coughs up dust, rubble laying all across her body and her javelin laying in the dirt next to her. Is everything over? Sliding off the hood of the car, she surveys the scene. It’s calm. Too calm. Grabbing the javelin, she starts to skip on the road, the metal weapon swinging back and forth in her hand and despite her joyous attitude, there was still a weird atmosphere. Rounding the corner, she easily spots the cause of the tension.

In the middle of the road their clearly not dead enemy stands over Tak who sits on his knees in a daze, a purple haze clouding him. “What the fuck?” Harley looks down in her hands to her javelin and shrugs. If she can save Flag, she can save Flag 2.0.

Sneaking around the pair, she crouches down beside a rock and peers over. “Why is he not fighting?” Her blue eyes scroll down the elongated weapon. “Should I save him? I think I should.” After a minute, she shrugs and starts creeping up to the person, keeping a low profile and clenching onto her javelin. “He betta like me after this.”

—-------

Tak stares down at his hands covered in blood. What has he done? A hand finds a place on his shoulder causing him to look up, a familiar face greeting him. “You did good, Kesh. I knew you could do it.”

“What did you do? What the fuck did you do?” He stands to his full height and looks down at his sister who smiles with a gleam in her eyes.

“What you’ve always wanted to do. You just finally did it,” she shrugs and gestures to the hall, bodies laying across the floor. Tak’s eyes go wide and he feels like he’s going to puke. He carefully steps over each and every body until a hand sticking up among the rest catches his eyes.

“No, no, no, no.” He crashes to his knees and shoves the bodies aside until he finds yours, eyes wide and dull as blood pours from your mouth. He quickly drags you out from under the bodies and cradles your head to his chest and looks up at Reileen. “What the fuck did you do?!”

Reileen laughs and crouches down, pulling up one of Tak’s hands and showing the bloody knuckles. “I think the question is, what did you do?”

—-------

Harley stands behind the man and taps him on the shoulder, causing him to turn around. “Hey, let go of him, he’s had enough.” She swings the javelin across the side of his face causing him to lose focus and let go of whatever hold he had Tak in. Harley races to Tak’s side and throws the javelin down. Grabbing a hold of either side of Tak’s face, she tried to shake him awake. “Come on hotstuff, wake up.”

The enemy beside them groans in pain but before he could sit up, DuBois has a foot on his gloved hand and a gun aimed at him. “Uh uh, I don’t think so.”

Harley ignores her teammates as she slaps Tak’s face a couple of times, but to no avail. “He won’t wake up! He betta not die! (Y/N) will kill us!” She continues to slap his face as DuBois pulls the glove off of the bloody faced man and places him into a pair of restraints.

“Relax, he’s probably just unconscious.”

—-------

“You’re a monster. You know that?” Wake up, Takeshi. You’re dreaming.

“We’re the monsters, Kesh. We were designed to kill and you did what you’re best at. You killed the enemy.” This isn’t real. Wake up.

“No, I killed my love. You made me kill her. You’re the enemy.” Tak scowls at Reileen as she shrugs, picking at her cuticles.

“When will you realize that we are killing machines? It’s what we do. She was just a bystander who got in the way. Now come, brother. We have work to do.” Reileen stands up and starts to walk down the hallway but stops when she realizes that her twin isn’t following her. “Come on, now.” Tak shakes his head, his arms holding your dead body close to his. “No. I’m done following you around. I’m not going anywhere.” “Keshi, please. Please come with me,” Reileen begs, holding out her hand for him to take but he shakes his head.

“No. I’m staying right here. You’ll have to leave without me.” That’s right. Now wake up.

“You’re making a mistake.”

“Probably, but I’d rather stay here than go anywhere with you.” Reileen storms out in a blind rage as Tak continues to cradle your face to his chest. Looking down at you, he wipes some of the blood off your face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

—-------

Tak jolts awake in a panic and shoots straight up. He looks around and sees the team standing around him with the target in cuffs. Without allowing himself a moment to clear his head, Takeshi marches over to where DuBois is holding the man. “Let me talk to him.” DuBois moves out of the way and hands Tak the instrument that put Tak under. Gripping onto the collar, he stares the person in the eyes. “What did you do to me?” The man chuckles, spitting in Tak’s face but Tak doesn’t flinch.

“I know your deepest fear now. It will come to pa-” Tak doesn’t let the man finish before he places his own gun - that he had in fact snuck onto the plane - underneath his chin and pulls the trigger, blowing the man’s brains to bits. The squad merely watches in shock. Flag would never do that. But then again, Takeshi is not Rick Flag. He’s Takeshi Lev Kovacs. Which no one on the team would ever doubt again after this.

“Wow, that was bad ass!” Harley comments and this time Tak gives her a nod in acknowledgement. Still shaken up, he grabs his weapons and the tech and starts toward the carrier with only one thought on his mind, to get home to you.

“Let’s go home.”

Taglist: @kingtwhiddleston @taternuts @strawberriebabbles @nerdysuperchick @inthetikiroom @taylorgasmtpr @taarkatans @saritanotserena @blackrose53666 @more-cardigan-than-woman

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devilsskettle · 2 years

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i haven’t read we have always lived in the castle in a hot minute so this is based on my impression of the text and not the text itself so i may be wrong but i’ve been thinking about it and i do think merricat and constance’s relationship is mutually codependent. i think merricat is very selfish for wanting to keep her inside so she could have her all to herself and she isn’t thinking about her sister’s best interests necessarily but i also think constance needs merricat as well and as much as merricat doesn’t want her to leave home, she didn’t intentionally cause her sister to be unable to leave the house like after the murders they were always going to have the shadow of perceived and real guilt hanging over them, and constance was complicit in shielding merricat from facing any consequences, it’s sometimes hard to pin constance down as much for me because once we understand that she’s been holding this major unspoken knowledge it changes how we can read her actions for the rest of the book and how much she understands merricat and her actions imo, like she knows!! how much more does she know that she allows to happen instead of it being something happening to her you know? she’s obviously suffered a lot but she also maintains her agency in subtle but significant ways. i also think it’s a matter of constance understanding the way merricat requires to be loved vs merricat only being able to give love the way that she loves and that blinds her to what’s best for her sister as much as her own selfishness does — she wants to live on the moon and she wants constance to go with her and to want to live on the moon too and she can’t imagine a reality in which living in the world instead is the better option, i think reducing merricat to purely antagonistic towards constance for her own ends is a mischaracterization i think she always does what she thinks is best but she has a very skewed sense of what that is and obviously that doesn’t excuse murder arson hurting people or classism to the point of paranoia but i also think she and constance and julian and charles and her dead family and everyone in town are trapped in a self-reinforcing cycle of paranoia hatred antagonism and violence like that didn’t happen in a vacuum for merricat and idk i guess i’m always a bit surprised to see really unsympathetic opinions about her even while i acknowledge her many negative traits. people love to say they like “complex” and/or “unhinged” characters until they’re actually complex and unhinged lol but like isn’t this story just as much about toxic cycles within the (patriarchal) domestic family unit as it is about merricat individually doing some really bad things

#we have always lived in the castle #merricat blackwood #shirley jackson #i typed ‘what we do in the castle’ when i was writing this lol. brain worms #i’m always worrying about getting we have always lived in the castle mixed up with i capture the castle because like. very different books.#anyway! this may be incoherent #i’m keeping reblogs on if anyone wants to add clarify correct or outright disagree #but this is like stream of consciousness lol

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save-the-spiral · 2 years

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Wiztober 2022 Day Three: Exalted

Content warning for violence, piracy, torture, murder, eye trauma, child homelessness, child soldier (kinda?), implied (unhealthy) sex/using sex as self harm, implied slut shaming, swearing, and basically everything else for my boy alexander.

(Prompt List)

Darling Alexander Dove was a man who could easily be described as many things. ‘Easy’ would be one of those adjectives, actually. Other words described him better.

Flamboyant, ruthless, cruel, unhinged, monstrous. Prideful.

Alexander took pride in his appearance, the finest silks dyed in eye-searing pinks and shadowy black, jewelry of pure gold and gemstones that sparkled. He took pride in his skills in battle, slicing through enemies from the darkness, vaulting and rolling through the battlefield as if it were his personal playground. He took pride in his ship, a relic his parents had used in their voyages, restored to its former glory and now flaunting his own flag, a dove with its deceitful olive branch plastered on a field of pink and black.

He even took pride in his crew, the few loyal members he had. His steadfast sister-in-arms Bonnie Anne, the reliable Jack Russel, Subodai who never faltered, Ratbeard who was predictable and dedicated, and even a few more. Others had tried to join his crew and failed, too weak willed or weak stomached to withstand his rule. Others joined and got in the way, and became nothing more than corpses to toss overboard, falling into the void of the skyways.

Alexander rarely took pride in the rank of Captain, especially granted the inevitable ‘pirate’ that preceded it to give context. He had not earned this role, not with bribery or hard work as one would in a military. He had taken it, snatched it from thin air and hid behind it as he once did with his mother’s skirts.

He demanded the title be used out of respect more than anything, to remind his crew that no matter what he owned and ran this ship with a gilded fist.

Even Bonnie Anne who knew him ever since he was just some street rat abandoned and alone in the Skull Island sewers would use his title. She would knock sense to him from time to time, as big sisters tend to do, and only then would she call him Alexander or Dove.

Every skyway in the Spiral knows his name. Captain Darling Alexander Dove, scourge of the skies, that marauding carrion bird of a man who will rip you to shreds while you scream your last breath. A reputation many would spend a lifetime to achieve, and he got it in just five or so years. Now when they dock in a new world the whispers are already there, his reputation precedes him, and merchant ships flee, militaries launch their fleets against his flag, and no one ever underestimates him again.

He is not just a vicious child or a pretty face or an easy fuck.

Captain Darling Alexander Dove is all he wanted to be when he was that scared child. He never has to fear anyone ever again. He can never be forced into anything he does not wish to. Any blood he spills is on his hands alone, of his own volition. He is no one’s chained mutt, a feral guard dog let loose on an enemy.

Even if others look at him as if he still is. Even if Bonnie Anne sometimes looks at him like that, and he has to pretend he doesn’t see it lest he snap and give her something to truly fear. Bonnie Anne is one of the few Alexander refuses to hurt. She would never be scared of him. All it would do is make her pity Alexander, and that would ruin him.

Some of the others do fear him- Ratbeard and Sarah Steele and Jack Russel and Fan Flanders. They are simply in this far too deep, and could not leave the crew alive after years of being complicit in his crimes.

Subodai, for some reason, does not fear him. Alexander cannot understand why he doesn’t, why even at his most deranged, Subodai will stand beside him as stalwart as always and unflinching of his cruelty.

Alexander will use his reputation as another weapon in his arsenal, right next to seduction and daggers.

He never makes empty threats, often following through despite it being disadvantageous merely because it would be funny or prove a point. The easiest way to make Alexander do something unexpected is to say he wouldn’t do it. He lives to defy expectation, refusing to conform to anything, let alone the image one has of him in their head. He is violent and cruel and teasing and gorgeous and monstrous, but if they dare him he will show a moment of mercy simply to see the hope in their eyes before he snuffs out that light.

He toys with victims as a cat would a mouse, uncaring and unknowing of the true extent of their suffering, for he has never suffered such, not physically. No one has dared put him under his own knife, no one has bested him in such a way yet.

One day his rank will mean nothing. His reputation will simply be the intel used against him. The fearful and loyal crewmates alike will stand aside and watch as he is torn down into who he truly is, all finery and facades skinned from his body.

Kane will look down at him and there will be no emotion, no triumph or pity or anger. There is nothing there for the clockworks to feel, and so reputation is nothing to them.

Alexander will relearn old tricks and cower like a beaten dog, barking uselessly only to be struck again. He will quiet once he realizes the helplessness of the situation, how little hope he has of rescue, how hopeless it is to need a rescue in the first place.

He will lose the last remnant of his parents.

He will lose an eye.

And he will lose all respect any of the others had for him, replaced instead with intertwined pity and compassion, a sickening combination.

He will be curled up in agony and so very small for all his twenty-four years of age, blood gushing from his face as his partner picks him up and holds him as easily as one would a child.

He will turn away from his crew, into the empty chest of his clockwork partner, and whine in pain and fear and humiliation.

No one will expect any more of him and that alone ruins Darling Alexander Dove.

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mediaevalmusereads · 2 years

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Witchy, Vol.1. By Ariel Slamet Ries. Roar, 2019.

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

Genre: graphic novel, fantasy

Part of a Series? No

Summary: In the witch kingdom Hyalin, the strength of your magic is determined by the length of your hair. Those that are strong enough are conscripted by the Witch Guard, who enforce the law in peacetime and protect the land during war. However, those with hair judged too long are pronounced enemies of the kingdom, and annihilated. This is called a witch burning. Witchy is a comic about the young witch Nyneve, who is haunted by the death of her father and the threat the Witch Guard poses to her own life. When conscription rolls around, Nyneve has a choice to make; join the institution complicit in her father's death, or stand up for her ideals?

Content Warnings: violence

Overview: I picked this book up on a whim at an independent bookstore. I was looking for something fun, and the premise intrigued me - a magic system that is tied to hair? The promise of LGBT+ characters? Sign me up! While I did like this graphic novel, I didn’t love it - some of the worldbuilding left me with some questions, I didn’t quite feel connected to some of the side characters, and the art style (while fun) isn’t usually the kind I go for. Still, other readers may adore this book; there’s plenty to love, and most of my criticism is based on personal taste more than anything.

Writing: I’m going to include art in this section because in graphic novels, art is a storytelling element as much as (or even more than) dialogue. The art style for this graphic novel is very simple but with very dynamic motion. Ries is very good at portraying emotions on her characters’ faces, and at creating exaggerated poses to convey movement. It almost reminded me a bit of animation, which I enjoyed. The art in this book is also very colorful with a lot of purples, greens, pinks, and yellows making the pages feel bright and lively. Some of the layouts, too, are quite interesting, and it’s easy to figure out which panel flows into the next.

Personally, however, I wasn’t blown away by the art, so while I liked the colors and the motion, there wasn’t a lot visually that stuck with me after I finished the story.

Plot: The plot of this book follows Nyneve, a young witch whose father was killed by the Witch Guard for having too long of hair (and thus, too much magic power which could threaten the ruling government). Nyneve doesn’t quite fit in with her peers at the school and is nervous about the upcoming Conscription trial - a test which will determine which witches essentially get drafted into the Witch Guard and which ones will go their own way. She desperately wants to avoid getting conscripted though some of her closest friends see it as an honor.

Part of what I liked about this plot was the setting. Whenever I read political plots about magic users, it always seems like the magic users are the oppressed ones (which always felt weird because they have so much extra power). In this world, powerful magic users are the ones upholding a corrupt government, so it felt more realistic to have people born with an advantage (or privilege, if you will) to perpetuate an oppressive system.

However, I do think Ries bit off a little more than they could chew. While the political messaging is very good, I ultimately don’t think Ries adequately explored the intricacies of how power works. Of course, this is only volume one, so subsequent volumes could go into more detail, but as it stands, I felt like Ries introduced way too many themes: queer people in the military, queer discrimination in medical fields, closeting, book banning, education systems formed by the government, using religion as a tool to manipulate others, etc.

I also think Ries didn’t fully give enough context to understand some things about the worldbuilding or gave context way too late. For one, it wasn’t clear how hair and magic were connected; while I don’t need a breakdown of how the magic is embedded in the hair or something, I did have questions such as “what makes hair length vary and why is the ability to grow longer hair a struggle for some? Couldn’t they just wait and get more powerful over time?” and “Is there a law against cutting hair? Why? And how do they know if you do it?” Also, it seemed like the spiritual/religious aspect to magic didn’t come up until halfway through the book; I didn’t even get the sense that characters were profoundly religious/spiritual until much later, and I wish it had been part of the worldbuilding earlier to make it feel like a huge part of daily life.

Characters: Nyneve, our protagonist, is your typical character with an extraordinary secret which makes it hard for her to fit in with their peers. While I liked that Nyneve could be vulnerable and part of her arc involved learning to be more confident with her choices, I was also a bit frustrated because it didn’t feel like she wanted anything. To put it another way, I didn’t feel like Nyneve had any strong convictions or goals; despite professing to want to resist the government, she also questions a real resistance when she encounters it, and it was a little frustrating to see her walk something of a middle road. Of course, Nyneve still has a lot of growing to do - this is only volume one, after all. So maybe her arc will be more satisfying in the long run.

Supporting characters were somewhat interesting, depending on how complex they were. Nyneve’s closest friend is a male witch named Batu, and while I liked how kind he was to Nyneve, he also didn’t have any strong convictions that made him an interesting character. Much more compelling were characters like Prill - a transgender woman who is dying to join the Witch Guard to escape her oppressive family. Prill had some understandable motivations and is the character I’m perhaps most interested in following - I want to know if her attitude towards the Witch Guard changes or if she struggles with wanting to belong to an oppressive system.

But as much as my attitudes towards individual characters varies, I really loved the way some of them interacted with Nyneve. Nyneve’s mother, for example, was wonderfully supportive and fiercely protective of her daughter, and seeing that mother-daughter bond was one of the most touching parts of this book. I also enjoyed the rapport between Nyneve and Banana, the talking raven. While Nyneve could be rather unkind to Banana, I ultimately enjoyed how loyal the latter was, and the banter was fairly entertaining.

TL:DR: Despite some stumbles, Witchy is a delightful graphic novel with charming art and a fascinating fantastical world. While I wish the protagonist had more definitive convictions and the plot was a little more focused, I ultimately enjoyed the story and am curious to see how the characters will develop in volume 2.

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geenawrites · 3 years

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'Black Widow' and undermining Dramatic Intent (II)

[PART ONE]

The 'Civil War' Effect

4): Elements that could’ve made Black Widow Natasha's personal journey are reduced to quick conversational bites told to Natasha instead of experienced by Natasha and the audience first hand.

The film could've built the story around her family selling her off to the government (on some eugenics mess). It could've set the stage for the subplot regarding her mother’s search for her until she was murdered, and Natasha trying to learn about her past pre-assassin.

For all the moments where we simply see her on her own, a lot of that alone time isn't used to explore how she feels, what she's thinking, or a personal throughline. It's just a montage of her looking gloomy and wearing comfy sweatshirts.

The only time Natasha truly feels like she is the emotional center of the movie is the opening act of the film. There, she’s portrayed by Ever (Gabo) Anderson and not Scarlett Johansson.

And as a film touted-as a vehicle for Johansson, that is bad. But also underlines why Florence Pugh’s Yelena was considered the real protagonist of the movie.

Black Widow could've been about Natasha wanting to reclaim her past from the Red Room (her abductors) because she reunites with her sister and parents (her surrogate family), and needed to finally deal with the consequences of killing Antonia (her ghost).

Instead, Black Widow is really Yelena’s story and emotional journey. Yelena justifies the presence of Alexei and Melina more-so than anything in Natasha’s history. As centered as Natasha was in the prologue, it works more as a establishing point for Yelena versus something like Natasha’s lost family or working with Clint Barton in Budapest.

Yelena being tasked to save the Widows (by the elder Widow who created the mind control cure), killing Dreykov, and destroying the Red Room are immediate issues that directly impact her arc and development as a character. Natasha is largely along for the ride, bringing Yelena where she needs to be in each act.

Natasha isn't as centered in her own her film as she should be. Simply compare the structure of her story to the structure in the Captain America (x2), Ant Man (x2), Thor (x3), and Iron Man (x3) films, and how those narratives focus on Steve Rogers, Scott Lang, Thor Odinson, and Tony Stark. Those films are about their emotional journeys while maintaining a healthy supporting cast that don't overshadow them.

Black Widow in comparison feels more like Captain America: Civil War, which is more of an Avengers film than it is a Captain America story. The emotional center of Civil War is Tony Stark and Zemo. Steve and his cast are simply underpinning Stark and Zemo's arcs. It also tries to introduce a new character (Black Panther) with the exact same story beat (revenge) as Stark and Zemo, and a MCU-wide subplot (Sakovia Accords) that ultimately goes nowhere later on.

The consequences of Civil War "Avengering" a solo film are on display in Black Widow in a big way. It's introducing new characters, and trying to tackle a trilogy's worth of storylines (the Red Room, Budapest, the Widow family, Civil War-fallout).

She doesn't even get a decent postmortem send off. The post credits, wherein Yelena mourns Natasha, is turned into a comedic skit and a teaser for the Hawkeye series. It's not allowed to remain a moment of mourning between two sisters separated by literal death.

As an Executive Producer of the film, I know this was not lost on Johansson. She might be an awful person, but she doesn’t strike me as someone so unaware of her environment that she set the stage to be undermined by her co-star. No, I think, given the timing, Johansson knew this was always going to be about setting up her successor.

Wrong Time, Wrong Place

Choosing to set Black Widow after Civil War was just a poor choice on Marvel’s part. Natasha circa 2016 has more or less come-to-terms with her history as a state-sponsored assassin for both Russia and the United States. Her arc as seen throughout the Avengers and Captain America films has come full circle following the events of The Winter Soldier. Now all she has left going forward is the arc dealing with Thanos' genocide and resurrecting everyone.

There is nothing to mine in terms of personal character drama because, at this point, she has laid it all to rest. It's nothing that torments her akin to Bucky trying to square away with his past as an amnesiac assassin.

All of Natasha’s threads are focused on the break-up of the Avengers. At first, seemed like her arc was going to be about not falling back into bad habits (being mistrustful of everyone). That it was going to deal with how she felt let down by the team (after trying to be the reasonable party among everyone), but the film doesn't really commit.

After that one conversation in Budapest, "getting the Avengers back together" isn't even a focal point. We just get awkward callbacks that tell the audience that Natasha isn't on the same level as Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor.

Yelena forgiving her family is used to tack on the sudden parallel idea that Natasha has been convinced she can personally bring the Avengers together again as a surrogate family once things work with her Widow Family.

Again, even in her own film, Natasha is playing the sacrificial matriarch of a Boy’s Club (whose event films she features only as a supporting character. Something I think people are only just realizing). That says to me the MCU never valued her beyond her ties to the male Avenger cast.

”You’re such a mom!” becomes a lot less funny in that context.

If this film was immediately set after The Winter Soldier or even Age of Ultron, wherein all of her history and SHIELD’s was leaked for public record, then there might’ve been a chance for an emotionally resonant story arc.

How would a Natasha scrambling to create new covers, and new ways to protect herself, deal with the sudden public attention of the world knowing that she was a foreign assassin that bought her way into the United States and became a celebrity superhero? How would a post-Winter Soldier solo film deal with Natasha’s past in way that she didn't become overshadowed by her own supporting cast?

How would a post-Age of Ultron solo film handle her past as informed by her nightmare (which stuck closer to her history as a trained dancer in the comics) on top of the events of The Winter Soldier?

But even as a post-Civil War narrative, Black Widow should've really cared to explore how Natasha felt about having to revisit her history with the Red Room, on top of being betrayed by Alexei and Melina. Instead of giving all those emotional beats to Yelena, actually show us Natasha confronting them beyond “it wasn’t real!”

How would the story turn out if parent with the biggest hand in the facilitation of her abuse (Alexei) wasn't turned into a flat comic relief character? What if he actually got chance to really consider her grievances, show remorse for his actions, without being turned into a “ha, ha, he’s do dumb (and fat)!” punchline (after setting him up as the total opposite in the prologue)?

Melina could've been an interesting co-antagonist working with Dreykov, but the film skirts past how she is complicit in the harm that her daughters faced (Yelena especially) with a fake Heel Turn moment that only undermined Dreykov as a threat.

And that’s really the problem with Black Widow. The film, or rather Marvel Studios, doesn’t want to really tackle Natasha’s past or pain like they were willing to do with Steve Rogers in The First Avenger, and The Winter Soldier.

Maybe because that would mean approaching the story with the emotional maturity of The Bourne Identity, a PG-13 film that was plenty violent without being excessive. It was also emotionally resonate by dealing with the fact that Jason Bourne was, pre-amnesia, a US assassin that did awful shit.

Instead we get a plot about mind-control, and magic red dust that can break said mind control (that apparently requires invasive surgery of the brain).

Whedon seemed comfortable with getting close to the actual violence that was asked of Natasha (vs. done to) by the Russian government as a kid. The screenplay for Black Widow can talk past Natasha willingly doing awful things, but doesn’t want to confront that by having her or Yelena deal with an army of assassins who are walking down the same path Natasha did, fighting and killing for another government without any sort of mind control.

This is why Natasha's assassination of “Dreykov’s Daughter” (Antonia) as the thing that happened in Budapest also doesn't land. The movie doesn't want to deal with how Natasha learned to live with murdering a child to buy her freedom into America. They make it so that she didn’t kill her, actually, just gave her a bad case of pizza face. She’s not even the one that pulls the trigger, the film suggests that it was Hawkeye.

Her mustache-twirling villain of a father, who somehow survived the explosion and building collapse with zero burns or broken bones, is the one who does all the truly horrible things to his daughter (turning her into a mindless slave).

The Original Sin that Natasha is defined by is swept under the rug in the same way her history as a killer is blurred by the script. It’s akin to rewriting Xena’s history with Callisto as the killer of her family and village, and deciding, “No, Xena didn’t kill them. They all survived with minor burns! Callisto can now forgive Xena!”

Natasha's Antagonist

Dreykov is a weak antagonist/villain because the screenwriting seems determined to accredit the abuse of the Red Room entirely to him instead of making a systemic issue. What started off as a clandestine organization for the KGB throughout most of the MCU is rewritten in Black Widow as the personal playground of a thinly veiled Harvey Weinstein analogue who puppeteers his personal assassins to do bad things, thus rendering them all innocent of their wrongdoings. It makes them "perfect victims" in way.

(Johansson has gone on record saying that this film was influenced by the #MeToo Movement. Well, celebrification of it, anyway)

Dreykov doesn’t challenge Natasha, or her family. There’s never an immediate danger or stakes being driven by Dreykov. He’s not doing something they have to stop “before time runs out”, he doesn’t have anything on any of the characters that could push their actions.

He takes a backseat to the family hijinks, so the journey to finding and destroying the Red Room has no urgency (Natasha being dead already notwithstanding). As the supposed architect of their misery, he’s about as threatening as Mason (Natasha’s Black Best Friend who buys her things while in hiding).

Dreykov fails like the rest of the MCU’s villains (not named Erik Killmonger) because there's no depth to the character. There's no real loyalty to the character as a demonstration of his power or influence. Again, all his victims are blameless in their violent actions. No one with speaking lines or face time (that isn't a G.I Joe grunt) is working with him because they believe in his goals or ideology.

Complicating that matter is that the script never reveals what his goals or ideologies are besides, "I can create chaos with an army of assassins. I am so evil."

It’s wild to me that so many are rushing to defend the implementation of this sloppily written (and miscast) character because, “he works as a villain because he's a human trafficker” and “he mind controlled his own daughter.”

“He does terrible things”, or a character representing awful things that happen in the real world, isn't enough to make an effective villain. If that was all it took, then 90% the MCU’s villains wouldn’t be so forgetabble.

(He’s not real, I shouldn’t be reading posts like, “he doesn’t deserve screentime b/c he’s an awful human being! He earned his lazy death scene.” Girl, what???)

If you’re gonna tackle human/child trafficking as defined by one antagonist, then really make it part of the story. Make it something that Natasha and Yelena are actively trying to stop. Don’t montage it over a bad Nirvana cover and then shift gears into a G.I. Joe scenario in a floating fortress.

If you're gonna make Dreykov the abuser of so many women, then make it crucial to your protagonist's narrative. Don't add a silly Angry Beavers plot where his stinky musk can control a woman's bodily functions because as a weak analogue to "how men police women's bodies".

Because Natasha has no real conflict with Dreykov, confronting him in the climax goes nowhere. Dreykov is Yelena’s antagonist. It's why Yelena gets to kill him instead of Natasha, so it would've made more sense for her to confront him instead.

The film eventually establishes he's no real threat to Natasha because the writing pulled a Xanatos. The character feels like he exists only so Johansson can sass him, and make a callback to the Loki Interrogation scene (a scene that only worked because of the audience misdirection.)

Dreykov could've been an effective villain if he was anything like the Headmistress characters in the Samee-Waid Black Widow series from 2016.

The Headmistress and Anya (the new Headmistress later on) were characters with emotional connections to Natasha and the Widow children she was trying to save. They taught these girls to believe in the totalitarian philosophy of the ruling class. Natasha and the other Widows couldn't live without them until they were able to escape their influence.

The Headmistresses were women, which makes it plain that women are also perpetrators of abuse. It isn’t just something that men do, which is how this script has approached this subject entirely (Captain Marvel did the same thing as well). Abuse being exclusively a male theater of action.

Antonia's death could've been meaningful in regards to Natasha and Dreykov as characters if Dreykov cared that Antonia was murdered by a Red Room assassin. Natasha admitting that she killed his daughter and regretted it would've made a lot more impact than just having him shrug it off because he's so heartless and so evil.

Or, as other people have said, imagine if it was Antonia who was the antagonist gunning after Natasha because of what she did, not only to her, but her father as well.

It would not only render the mind-control plot pointless, it would re-center the focus on Natasha, and force the writers to do something else with Yelena, Alexei, and Melina (assuming they're even necessary in this scenario). Then, Natasha would have a genuinely threatening antagonist because the stakes are personal on both sides.

It would've been a hellva lot more meaningful than using Taskmasker as a plot-twist (after hyping the character up as the controller of the Red Room and Natasha's personal nemesis).

Callisto’s story as a villain resonates because she cared about what she lost, and Xena knew there was no real forgiveness for what she did to her. Imagine if they approached Natasha’s role in Antonia’s death like that.

(But that's probably asking for too much nuance from Disney and Marvel.)

Conclusions

In story that wants to be about the abused reconciling with their past and family, the film effectively robs the abused of their autonomy by going the extra of mile of making them zombies. In the same way the Star Wars sequel trilogy avoided Finn’s history as an indoctrinated and enslaved Stormtrooper, Black Widow doesn’t want to deal with the ramifications of indoctrination.

How people buy into and protect organizations that strip them of their humanity by making them complicit in violent systems. Oh, sure, they’ll nod and wink at it (as they do with Natasha and Melina’s past), but they won’t go any further than that.

Instead of dealing with how a forced hysterectomy effects Natasha physically and emotionally, we get a joke that isn’t any better than Natasha calling herself a monster, or the “time of the month” joke that got rebuked by the director and the cast.

Instead of reflecting on her time with SHIELD and the United States, the United States is portrayed as "the good-guys who gave her a real family” (ignoring even the half-hearted criticism of the US that The Winter Soldier made), while Russia is still out there doing nefarious Cold War Things and ruining people's families. All of which just feeds into uncritical Russian stereotypes and Red Scare that the film’s foundation is built on.

I enjoyed the film, but the more I think about it, the more I realize Black Widow really does nothing except undermine Natasha's darker elements and self-imposed redemption arc (as written by Whedon).

On top of rewriting key elements about the Red Room (the movies being broken as the comics is a true irony), It minimizes Natasha's violent past to make her into a clean, and boring superhero whose solo film thinks lamp-shading sexism is the same as subverting it.

#geenawrites #black widow #natasha romanov #mcu critical #scarlett johansson #ever anderson #writers on tumblr #bw spoilers #black widow spoilers #mcu meta

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alexkablob · 3 years

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Okay, so, I was antsy about making a post on this, because I’ve gotten, uh, virulent pushback for speculating along these lines before, but here goes:

I am super worried about Winter Schnee going into the back half of V8.

Because, look, we’ve got the pspsps and are ya defecting son and all those memes for a reason, we’ve seen very clearly that Emerald, Marrow, and Winter’s internal conflicts in particular seem set up to see them defect from their current sides. Emerald’s slow-burn redemption arc is finally coming to a head as she prepares to decisively turn against Salem, Marrow’s ability to tolerate what he’s become a part of is being rapidly overwhelmed, and Winter is...

To put it simply: a human disaster.

My concern right now (under a read-more because it’s long as fuck) is this:

Marrow and Winter are...not the same, actually. Marrow is a lot newer to the Atlesian military, and it’s been repeatedly emphasized that he hasn’t fully internalized the Atlesian bullshit the way that the others have. Winter...is only a few years older than him, but she’s been absolutely marinated in the fascism sauce, and she had Ironwood paying her special attention in recruiting her and mentoring her. I love Winter, but one of the scariest things in the show was the moment when she earnestly, compassionately tried to explain to Penny how to justify being complicit in a war crime to your own conscience.

And, well, building off of the above, I’ll just put it bluntly: most of the differences between Marrow and Winter’s respective worldviews and willingness to abandon them boil down to the fact that Marrow has been a target of Atlesian state violence his entire life while Winter, for all the shit she’s endured, has always been one of the most privileged people in the entire kingdom. Winter found (what she sees as) acceptance and a support structure in the Atlesian military; Marrow has had it constantly emphasized to him that he doesn’t fit in. Ren senses conflict in Winter, and he doesn’t in Marrow, because Marrow isn’t actually conflicted, he’s just working up the courage to act on it.

But I’m not here to demonize Winter: Winter is someone who wants to do the right thing. Winter is someone who wants to make the world better. And she’s someone who is very uncomfortable with the things she’s been ordered to do in the last two days. But she’s also someone who has very much internalized the greater good mentality that Ironwood embodies, and is deep in the sunk-cost fallacy, and that all means she’s conflicted—every time an opportunity for her to chose her side has come up so far, she’s found a way to avoid making it. First with her two younger sisters—the one by blood and the one by choice, who she couldn’t have stopped even if she’d resolved to—and now with letting Team JYR go on what she sees as a suicide mission.

In a vaccum, I think that Winter would choose right. Left to her own devices, and to the devices of Weiss and Penny, she would choose to betray Ironwood and help them. But...Winter doesn’t seem to be on a path to meet them at Schnee manor, and you would expect Weiss in particular to be heavily involved with Winter changing sides. That could change! If there’s anything we’ve seen this volume so far, it’s how quickly the situation can change entirely.

But in the short term...

Winter has been sent on a suicide mission to destroy the whale. A mission that I would be highly surprised to see succeed, but the scary thing is...

Winter has a very high chance of coming face-to-face with Salem.

Salem. The master manipulator. The one who, as Hazel just reminded us, knows exactly how to break people with the futility of fighting her. The one who, as the fandom has been commenting on for weeks, already bent someone very much like Winter to her will in the form of Cinder. That’s who Winter, in the most incredibly vulnerable mindset, has been sent into the jaws of.

That’s what I’m afraid of. Because Salem has already offered to spare Atlas in exchange for their cooperation once—an offer that Ironwood rejected out of hand, and an offer that Penny (who has also been influenced by the Atlesian mindset, but decisively rejected it) pondered about accepting after presumably being told about it by Team RWBY. An offer that Winter was not in the room to hear.

It’s not a question of whether or not Salem can manipulate Winter by making her think collaboration is the only way to save Atlas. All she would have to do is tell her oh, your bravery is wasted on Ironwood, he’s sent you here to die because he doesn’t know when to quit, you know his leadership has led your people to ruin but you can still save them from oblivion, you can still do the right thing, take matters into your own hands, be the hero that Atlas needs—or you can watch them fall at my side and be the last daughter of Atlas to perish.

Winter Schnee is the biggest wild card in play right now, and nobody has realized it—not Ironwood, not Ruby, and certainly not herself. But Salem could eat her alive without even trying, and I’m terrified that she’ll soon have the opportunity to.

#rwby #winter schnee #y'all PLEASE don't hate on me for this #I will say I'm happy with how anything could go #but I admit I'd be REALLY into this happening and it would honestly rocket Winter up to one of my favorite characters #because I love disasters #and it's just such a narratively JUICY concept #anyway lots of things to be afraid of in v8.2

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fakecrfan · 3 years

Note

Do you think Basira and Daisy had a healthy relationship?

I am so glad you asked! I have had a lot of thoughts about their relationship, but had decided to shelve those thoughts because I was worried it would come off as me telling people to not ship Daisira, which is... not what I want to be doing. But you sent me an Ask and so I am compelled to answer!

My answer is: no. Their relationship is toxic in one of the most interesting ways I have seen portrayed in media.

This might be a bit confusing to hear, though. Normally when we call a relationship toxic, it means that one or both of the people involved are making each other feel bad. But Daisy and Basira seem to make each other feel... good. Basira is apparently Daisy’s last human attachment, and according to Elias in MAG 92, and “not being able to see Basira again” is one of Daisy’s biggest laments in the coffin. And on Basira’s end, Daisy seems to make Basira feel... secure. Supported.

From MAG 117:

BASIRA

But at least Daisy’s coming. I mean, I know she’s… difficult. Everything they say about her, it’s true, it’s fair. But, she’s solid. She’s a… a fixed point, and if she’s there, I know exactly where I stand, exactly what I’m doing, relative to her.

From MAG 178:

MARTIN

We’re here for you.

BASIRA

No. She was there for me.

So, “attachment to humanity” “support” and “security” are good things in a relationship, right? Their love for each other (whether you read it as completely platonic or not) seems genuine, and they put each other first. That should mean that their relationship is Good!

Wellllllll no. Sometimes, a relationship can feel good while also... trapping you in a harmful cycle, or stunting your growth as a person. Think: a friend who is charming and fun who you love to drink with--to the extent that, even when you’re trying to manage an alcohol addiction, you end up going into situations with them that trigger your urge to drink. Also think: a friend who keeps bringing you sugary food even after you’ve been diagnosed with serious diabetes with potential life-altering complications--because you like donuts, they used to make you so happy.

Daisy and Basira are that to each other. In particular--Basira’s attachment to Daisy draws Basira back into dangerous situations and, by extension, causes her fall deep into that “siege mentality” that shuts down Basira’s more thoughtful side.

When Jon confronts Basira about Daisy’s crimes in MAG 178, this exchange occurs.

MARTIN

[Loudly] Enough. Enough! Someone has died! Show some respect. Or don’t you care?

BASIRA

[Incensed] Of course I fucking care!

…

[Quieter] That’s the problem.

MARTIN

I… I don’t understand.

BASIRA

I just… I don’t need him laying everything out for me like I’m some kind of idiot. I know, all right.

I don’t think Basira is making anything up here to make herself seem better. Basira already knew there was a problem with the police, before Jon confronted her. She already knew Daisy was corrupt to some extent, even if she had trouble facing it head on. And--she already cared.

That’s why she quit. She didn’t need a revelation from Jon or anyone else to open her eyes. She didn’t even need to see harm happen to an innocent bystander. Instead, she saw how the higher ups were covering up the killing of Maxwell Raynor, of all people--

BASIRA

They’ve given us a few days ‘compassionate leave’. I think they just want us out of the way while they figure out the official version of what happened.

--and she quit after that.

So, here we already have someone who is coming into an understanding of the police as a flawed system without anyone needing to tell her. Here we have someone who is already extricating herself from that system, because she cares about her impact on other people. From this point, she could easily have gone her own way, taken time to reflect and never hurt anyone again.

So what brings her back into the whole mess in MAG 88?

BASIRA

I’m looking for Daisy.

MARTIN

Oh for – Okay, I don’t know where she is! I don’t know where anybody is! Why does everyone… okay, why does everyone think that I always know where everyone is, all the time?!

BASIRA

Alright, okay, alright, sorry. They just… well, they said at the station that this was the last place she checked in.

--Her relationship with Daisy, of course!

She wants to leave the supernatural and the police behind. She tells Jon the Institute is bad (MAG 73) but she walks back in because she’s worried about Daisy. And then she throws herself right back in the fray to stop Daisy from killing Jon. Shortly after that, Basira has to sign herself off as a hostage to Elias…

ELIAS

She’s quite the killer, your partner. All in the public good, of course. And she was correct, I spent some time acquiring that evidence. Or creating it. And while your superiors don’t much care about the killings, the fact there is proof… They’re not happy. And they want you brought in.

--because of Daisy’s murders, Daisy’s reckless actions giving Elias leverage. Basira throws herself in with Daisy, and it draws Basira right back into a world of violence and the paranormal that she was trying to quit. It motivates her to, once again, cover for Daisy’s errors and justify them. This takes away any chance Basira could have had to gain distance from the violence, reflect, and get some perspective. Instead, she’s thrown right back into the siege.

Basira doesn’t even show any sign of frustration with Daisy at this. It’s not that Basira is 100% meek. We see her get frustrated with people later, express grievances, and hold people accountable later--but with Daisy she doesn’t do any of this. Instead, she immediately re-affirms that she’s on Daisy’s side.

BASIRA

Daisy, it’s… it’s okay. We’ll figure something out.

Of course, it’s not a one-way street, either. It’s not an uncomplicated “Basira good, Daisy toxic and bad” story. It’s a mutually reinforcing cycle where they are both complicit. We see that in season 4, when Daisy tries to stop feeding the hunt.

People like to rag on Basira for her actions in this season but... her actions are actually also more complicated than a simple story of “Basira sabotages Daisy’s progress.” Because Basira misses the more resolute Daisy, yes, and wishes she had a strong protector instead of another person to help... but even with that, she’s still willing to support Daisy’s progress away from the Hunt!

In MAG 133:

ARCHIVIST

You’re not happy she’s back.

BASIRA

I didn’t say that, John. I will never abandon Daisy, and… having her back is… (she sighs) But right now she’s dead weight, and I need to be able to travel light.

Basira wants someone powerful to protect her, is conflicted that she doesn’t have that but still will never abandon Daisy regardless. And, true to her word, she does support what Daisy is doing.

From MAG 140:

BASIRA

We’ve talked about it. If the Hunt takes her again, we don’t know if she’s coming back. And neither of us want that.

In MAG 146, she even praises Daisy’s path of resistance.

BASIRA

You didn’t know what you were doing.

[Daisy makes a pained sound, as if to contradict her, but stops.]

BASIRA

And since you did, you’ve spent every waking hour resisting.

So, Basira is--true to Elias’s word--being Daisy’s anchor to humanity. True to her own word, she’s having Daisy’s back, supporting her decision to quit the hunt even if it means Basira has less back up. So what changes?

MAG 155:

BASIRA

Because I’m not going to lose her.

ARCHIVIST

She goes hunting again, you might anyway.

BASIRA

And if she doesn’t, she might die.

Even at this point, Basira’s worst impulses are always about Daisy. Even when she undercuts Daisy’s progress, it’s about Daisy’s wellbeing. All she wants to do is make sure Daisy’s alive and okay, and to that end she will throw out all of her rationality and moral principles.

And then, when Daisy does finally give into the hunt, it’s for Basira.

It’s... funny to analyze and critique this behavior, because I have seen this sort of behavior in Jon/Martin fics treated as a sweet and romantic thing. You know, the “I want you to keep being a monster because I don’t want to lose you!” thing. And also the “prioritizing each other over everything else in the world” thing. Because the concept of unconditional support, of putting another person first above everything else in the world--it’s an alluring one.

But with Daisy and Basira, even though their relationship isn’t necessarily romantic, we see how harmful that mindset can be. How someone can care for you, prioritize you, make you feel like the whole world, and... the main effect of that is to stunt you, to give you so much comfort you never get out of a harmful cycle or change your behavior at all. How it can cause you to enable horrible things in the world, like police brutality.

That is the story of Daisy and Basira’s relationship. It’s about the effects of this cycle on Basira--yes, Basira specifically and not Daisy, even though the cycle is mutually reinforcing and affects them both.

Basira appears in nearly twice as many episodes as Daisy. Because of this, Basira is the one we see discussing the relationship and what it means to her. Basira is the one we see grappling with the psychological fallout of their relationship. It’s more Basira’s story than Daisy’s--not because she’s the “victim” or that she was morally pure but because... Basira is the one who ultimately grows past this.

After episode after episode of “she needs me” and “I can’t leave her” and “I can’t let her die”--after Basira endangering herself and stunting her own growth by centering Daisy

DAISY

Partner… Come…

[MORE FOOTSTEPS]

BASIRA

Not now. Not after everything.

--Basira finally breaks free, and moves on.

#taiey #basira hussain #daisy tonner #tma #the magnus archives #my post #tma meta

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ohmygodtheywereparabatai · 3 years

Text

Salt Takes: The Double Standard of Child/Adult Soldiers

—

The last thing I want to do is get tangled in ATLA fandom drama, but I choose violence, so short and sweet it is.

This scene.

People race to defend Azula here, claiming she was a child who didn’t understand the full atrocity of what she was witnessing. That she was molded from the beginning to believe her cold sneer and clutched fist were her faith in justice served showing. Then all fingers point to Zhao as the grown adult who displays full-blown sadism.

Cool. So, er, half-assed interpretation and apologism at its finest.

Look, ya big brained. You want to pick apart early psychological development in the Fire Nation princess? Great. You’re onto something. But this scene, at face value, is blatant characterization. Azula has no remorse. She thinks what she’s seeing is deserved. These statements can and should co-exist before further analysis, because the first statement is visibly, directly implied for seven year olds to pick up on and file away.

Kids’ show. Aired on Nickelodeon. 6-11-year-old demographic. Gucci? Gucci.

Zhao, on the other hand, is the bass-boosted version of S1 Zuko. He’s not a child soldier, damnit, but he is a soldier.

When Zuko knocks him down in their Agni Kai, the instinct to, uh, avoid getting your face burned off is overridden because he acknowledges the hand dealt to the loser, stares right back at him, and says - “Do it.”

A bit gorey to imagine what would have happened if Zuko obliged.

When they face off in the North, Zhao makes his position clear: “You're the Blue Spirit, an enemy of the Fire Nation! You freed the Avatar.”

“You should have chosen to accept your failure, your disgrace. Then, at least, you could have lived!”

So aside from the fact that he is, by definition, doing his duty by dispatching a disgraced prince responsible for treacherous action... it’s also his character. Azula is as driven to perfection and loyalty for her nation as she is conniving and vicious. Zhao is as driven to immortalizing himself in history and bulldozing the enemies in the Fire Nation’s path as he is a smug, walking dick. They’re both every inch the product of an imperialist agenda as they are the villains of their respective seasons. They’re bad, they’re rotten, but they’re soldiers.

To drag the comics into this for a moment, the vilification of the other nations began as early as pre-genocide. Soldiers were brainwashed into associating the Avatar and his people with their own doom. It’s no mind-blowing inference that the same notions were hammered into cadet Zhao, or that little Azula was spoon-fed the same story.

Shifting the lens when they’re in the same shot - assigning sadist status to one and victim status to the other, ain’t gonna fly. Try again.

Ahh, and someone was slick enough to point this out, but Iroh’s flinch in this scene, next to Azula’s fist of satisfaction?

Oop!

Perspective is so funny, isn’t it?

Next thing - the godforsaken ‘Zhao is a creep’ angle.

I don’t even want to dig my fingers into this one. This take is so obviously for purposes of Zuko whump that I’m going to spare myself the loss of braincells. While I have nothing against exploring this in fic, don’t even try to tell me it’s rooted in canon. It’s 100% true that interpretations of source material are infinite, but that doesn’t mean all of them are right.

What happened to the creep angle during this scene? Oh, yeah, it sparked hot, steamy Zucest.

I found about two to three sources while hunting down these images alone that (aptly) explained Azula’s sexualization as a “temptress” femme fatale-esque character, and even touched on Grey DeLisle’s sultry voice acting that did nothing for the portrayal of a fourteen year old girl. I’ve got nothing against any ship as long as the shippers are respectful... but hmm, do I spy another Zhao-Azula double standard?

(You okay back there, Iroh?)

Oooohh nooo, it’s the predator eyeing his next prey!! It just can’t be Jason Isaacs’ “wonderful, cunning evil vibe” poured into another role... Do I have to pull up several Lucius Malfoy/Harry Potter oneshots based on the scene where he hooked his cane on his shoulder to show you how asinine this take is?

Azula and Zhao both target Zuko’s insecurities to get a rise out of him. Azula and Zhao are both complicit in the conquering of the Earth Kingdom. Azula and Zhao both believe (respectively) that they were given divine right, that they wield the superior element. Azula and Zhao both grin like maniacs while Zuko is getting his face torched - it’s who they are. They align so closely that exploring the weight of a poisoned upbringing, deadly ideals, and raw firebending power drawn from a different root than the first masters is impossible without owing consideration to both characters. Both their arcs end in fucking insanity. Nationalism does that to people. Talk to me about that next time.

Jesus. I need a cold shower. Thanks for reading.

#long post #the uncrispiest of double standards #an S for you an M for you and an H for you #tw cussing #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla meta #zhao #azula #admiral zhao #zuko #ok i’m going to be soft again 🥺 (but ready)#omgtwp’s salt takes

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moonlights-inkwell · 3 years

Text

Demand an Encore

Jaskier x Reader

Word Count: 6,958

Summary: anon said: hello! i see your requests are open...! could i maybe get a Jaskier x reader where the reader very shyly explains (maybe after an embarrassing moment?) that they are into spanking? and Jaskier indulges them and it is fluffy/smutty? if not, that's okay!! i figured I'd ask. thank you! 💜

A/N: Anon. I literally owe you my life, because Dom! Jaskier now literally lives rent free in my head. A fic from Jaskier's perspective? It shocked me too. Oops. Also. Clapping joke title on a spanking fic? I think I’m way funnier than I am

Warnings: Smut. Spanking. Oral (female receiving). Clothed sex? Sorta. Discussions of Sadomasochism. Canon complicit violence. A very bad take on Jaskier's perspective.

Title from Wild Blue Yonder

“Oh wank!”

The expletive draws his eyes from his lute and upwards, to you.

You’re busy, always busy, swinging that blade about and clashing it noisily into Geralt's. Parry, swipe, dodge, sword fighting is as boring a sport as Jaskier can even imagine, only marginally better than fencing because at least there’s some danger to sword fighting. Paint drying is a more interesting thing to watch, lectures less painful to listen to. Jaskier hates it. Sparring holds no interest to Jaskier, beyond when he tries to describe how sword fighting looks for a new song, but there are no new songs. The monsters have seemingly realised that Geralt is about, and have kept themselves to themselves, and so the well of songs about danger and adventure has dried up- like a brook during a heatwave. There’s no song about battles to be won, and if he plays Toss A Coin once more then he’s quite sure that Geralt will shove his lute up his arse sideways. All he wants is to work on a new melody and the clanging is quite possibly the worst thing he can imagine. The clanging, clanking, crashing of steel on steel is enough to drive him to distraction. All he needs is a new song, but no. He simply must be tormented by the sound of metal hitting metal. Needs must apparently, at least when it comes to sparring.

He’s sure Geralt is doing this to spite him specifically. Revenge for years upon years of songs and mindless chatter and taunting, wrapped up with the knowledge that the bard would never complain about your training- that your safety is paramount to him, even if it is noisy as all hell and infuriatingly distracting.

Cornflower blue eyes scan up and take you in, on hands and knees and holding your sword at such an angle to block Geralt’s swipe; face crumpled with effort and concentration while the Witcher above is as stoic looking as ever, bringing his blade down closer and closer until you slide to the ground and roll away from the sword. The buckles of your over-bust drags against the ground and knocks loose two of the buttons of your blouse, revealing an expanse of skin below the clavicle and to the dip in skin between breasts.

He wonders, not for the first time, how you manage to fight in a corset. When he was a lad, a little longer ago now than he’s quite happy to acknowledge, how a girl at a ball had collapsed because her corset was laced too tight and even after fetching a healer, the girl walked awkwardly until he left for Oxenfurt, probably long afterwards too. Yet, you can fight in one, swing that blade around with a relative ease that Jaskier can’t even manage if his trousers are tailored too high in the crotch. It’s strange. Watching you duck and twist, bend and thrust that blade around all while being held in place by tightly laced bones, it’s impressive- like watching someone dance. You aren’t a master swords-man but you’re skilled and it’s nice to watch. The exhilarated grin across your face, panting with heaving chest: it’s beauty. Pure, unadulterated beauty, even with a smear of dirt across your cheek, sweat beading about your forehead and a nick on your arm that’s letting out a small but steady stream of blood trickling down from your upper arm.

“Better.” Geralt says firmly, Jaskier watches as your face breaks into a grin and you just glow. A relaxed, genuine smile that makes you look younger than you are. You've mocked him before for how he just soaks up any validation, but even the slightest praise has your skin all but shining, cheeks flushed and mouth upturned. He understands entirely. Praise, acclaim, acknowledgement, it’s addictive; more so than any ale, any drug. Praise leaves you desperate for more, shaking and craving a next hit, almost insecurely hoping against hope that any second will bring that much needed praise. Bard's are like faeries, they require attention to survive while thriving on the energy people give, And Jaskier has been desperate for attention long before he became a bard.

Praise from the Witcher is a seldom given gift- one that Jaskier doesn’t think he’s ever been given- but he praises you. Training is important, and Geralt seems to have realised that he’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar, so sparring is when he speaks most, even then it’s minimal though; but he compliments. Your form, your grip, the strength of blows. Praise from the Witcher is a seldom given thing.

Jaskier isn’t jealous.

He isn’t.

Jealousy implies that there’s something to be envied, like a possession that he wants. You aren’t a possession, he knows that, and even if you were, you wouldn’t be Geralt’s. His fingers fall from the frets of the lute, sending a sour note that makes him cringe out through the clearing.

“Gods, Dandy- if that’s a sign of what your new song sounds like then I don’t think I want to hear it!” You call over to him, head tilted as the sword twirls between your fingers. “I thought you were supposed to be a good bard.”

“You wound me, Love. Wound me.”

“No good bard would write Toss A Coin.” Geralt says, but there’s humour in his voice- well, humour enough for it to be noticeable against Geralt’s signature style of stoicism. Must be a good sort of day, for Geralt to be joking about and complimentary. These sorts of things don’t happen every day.

“Leave him be, Bully!” You swat at Geralt's side, grinning at Jaskier. “Don't you worry, Dear Heart, I love you- even with this brute insulting you.” It’s as if you don’t even remember that you started the insults, but that smile is enough to keep him quiet. That must be a sign of love, that Jaskier could be quiet for you: he’s never been silent for anyone before, even when he had himself half-convinced that he was in love with every person he's spent more than a night with, he’s never been able to keep quiet for more than a few minutes or so, he’s felt an overwhelming need to fill the silence. It’s pleasant to just bask in atmosphere that comes from being about you.

The swat at Geralt had not gone unnoticed, even if it took a moment or so for him to strike you. Geralt, facing Jaskier, lifted a hand to thump you on the back, too absorbed by the simple pleasure of retaliation to have perceived two very simple things with those enhanced Witcher senses: that the laces of your boots have come undone, and that you had bent down to tie it.

Time slows sickeningly, as Jaskier realises what’s about to happen only a second before the SLAP comes through the air at a volume none of you anticipated. Not to the lower back, a spot that while painful is little more than inconvenient when hit, but instead to your arse- angled upwards as you bent to fiddle with the ribbons of your shoes. The white-haired man had wanted something vaguely friendly but still running with undercurrents of the same energy that comes from sparring, but instead he had brought one enormous hand down onto your arse with some force. Unexpected, and completely out of nowhere as it is, it somehow is not the most surprising part.

The moan is.

A loud, broken moan- somewhere between pain and pleasure- which Jaskier knows all too well. That sound haunts his dreams. Jaskier would know it blind, dumb and senseless. Your moan, normally reserved for during the nights when his fingers slide inside of you, when his tongue breeches you. It’s weak, beautiful, and oh so very unexpected. Its a noise more beautiful than music, more beautiful than the sound of children’s laughter- always his , finally heard by another. Geralt looks horrified, cat-like eyes wide and filled with something akin to fear, but nothing like the unadulterated horror written across your face; sun-coloured skin turning red with embarrassment, lips parted wide but slowly contorting into a grimace, eyes wide but watering.

Jaskier forces himself up and towards you, while Geralt steps back, saying your name softly and apologetically,

“I am so sorry-"

“Little Miss-"

“I'm going to the stream to wash!” You say loudly, side-stepping around Jaskier to make a beeline into the thicket of trees, where a stream was hidden. Without any thought, Jaskier groans and looks up at the Witcher, eyes narrowed into accusatory slits.

“So much for those Witcher senses of yours.” It’s a ridiculous thing to be annoyed about. Geralt does not have any feelings for you beyond the platonic, and Jaskier knows that, knows full well that Geralt wouldn’t do something like that to you, least of all in front of your lover and a man far too willing to write humiliating songs about Geralt.

“It was an accident.” All stoicism has returned to Geralt’s voice, despite the still apologetic look written across his features. “She’s going to hate me. She sounded so pained.”

That almost made the Bard splutter with laughter. Moans like that are many things but not pained, at least not in a way that isn’t seen as pleasurable. Somehow, he manages to keep the laughter down and instead claps a hand to the taller man's shoulder.

“I doubt she hates you. Missy is a resilient little thing.” He tries to sound comforting, but some humour seeps through, making Geralt turn and squint at him.

“This isnt funny, Bard.”

“I’m well aware.” Jaskier nods. “I'm going to check on her though. To make sure she hasn’t drowned herself.”

“Don’t joke.”

“I’m not.” He trills as he walks along the step-worn path to the trees.

The stream is a pathetic little thing really, barely a foot in width and surrounded on all sides by the thickest section of trees which almost blocked out all light. It was easy to believe it was around dusk, but it couldn’t be much later than midday, the shade made it appear so much later than it was. And there was you, hunched over by the reeds and moss, scooping up water and splashing it in your face and onto the gash still trickling blood to try to clean it. Even in spite of the shadows, your flushed cheeks are still clear to him and he stops to take you in.

He’s had many lovers. Too many to list really, but not one of them holds a candle to you. Every girl before you was perfectly primped and polished, in fine clothes with perfect hair and made up faces, and they were beautiful but artificially so. Made that way by clothes and corsets and cosmetics. You though, you’re something else. Beautiful with the sun in your eyes, unkempt hair and rumpled clothes. Indescribably perfect cast half in fire-light, with bags beneath your eyes and blood across your cheek. Sonnet worthy while drunk and stumbling, singing out of tune to his ever songs. Godly in the dark, mouth open and back arching towards him as you stumble headfirst into climax. He loves you. He loves you, and it’s the first time he thinks he has ever really loved anyone: more than infatuation, more than lust, but actual love. Love that makes his head muddled and heart sore. He doesn’t deserve you. Wants you, needs you, but will never deserve you. Reckless, wild and brilliant you, willing to leave a life behind to fight monsters. A fool. Beautiful little fool, selfless and-

“I can feel you staring at me.”

“Hard not to stare at a goddess. Careful, I hear some gods will drown pretty things like you out of jealousy.”

“Fool.” You say softly, but there’s a chuckle in your voice so he comes closer to you, stepping behind you to twist your hair away from your throat to press a kiss to the crook of your neck.

“Your fool.” He breathes out shallowly, letting his chin rest on your shoulder while his arms wind about your waist. “Are you alright, Dear Heart?”

“Embarrassed, I suppose. My pride will recover though, Dandy.” The lightness of your words combined with your stiff posture makes sure Jaskier knows you’re lying.

“Little Miss-"

“Geralt must be embarrassed as well. I should have apologised to him before-"

“You moaned.” He cuts you off, making you shut up, stiffening even more. “And you may try to deny it, but I know that noise. I might just be the only person who knows that noise.”

“Jaskier.” It sounds like a warning, but he doesn’t care.

“If it’s because it was Geralt, I understand.” He says softly, feelings coming out unbidden. “I understand, of course, and I love you but I understand if I’m in the way.”

“I liked it. Be... being hit. Not Geralt.” You whisper.

It truly is a day of surprises. Jaskier can feel the grin slip onto his face and his hands move from your stomach to your hips to begin tickling.

“Is that so?” He asks softly, revelling in your choked-out laughter and how you lean back against him. “My Little Miss wants to be spanked. Well, darling, you should have told me earlier.”

“I didn’t know it was a thing!” You argue between laughs. Jaskier so often forgets that you were a virgin before he got his hands on you, so of course you hadn’t known. His tickling doesn’t stop as he pulls you backward, rolling you onto the ground and climbing on top of you to continue his assault.

“Would you like a lesson in masochism, Dear Heart?” He teases, head tilting to the side as he looks down at you.

“Maso-what?”

“The pleasures of pain.” He explains, and watches how your face turns pink once more. “Oh, she does!”

“Stop taunting me!” You argue, thrashing beneath him but not with any intensity.

“Taunting? Never. I’m just trying to work out if I need to rent two rooms when we next go into town.” He too easily grabs at your arm when you reach up to swat at Jaskier. “For your lessons, I mean.”

“You... weren't joking?” You ask lightly and he shakes his head.

“I never joke about teaching My Muse about what brings her pleasure.” He says lightly, climbing off of you to sit by your side. “If you want me to.”

“You Wouldn’t mind?” You ask incredulously, drawing out a chuckle from the bard.

“Darling-heart, don’t be a fool, of course I wouldn’t. You know how I like pleasing you, and having you know what pleases you pleases me. Besides, it’s hardly my first dalliance into sadomasochism; there was a countess I used to know who couldn’t achieve orgasm unless tied up, with wax melted on her and at least three people watching her-"

“Jaskier.” You say softly, and he stops.

“Sorry. What I mean is, liking someone slapping your perfect bottom isn’t something to be embarrassed by, darling. Alright?”

“Alright. Thank you, Jaskier.”

“No need to thank me, Dear Heart.”

It takes weeks for Jaskier's plan to come to fruition. Weeks of traveling and camping in the woods until the three of you are able to find a town in need of a Witcher and his services. It’s a simple job, just a few drowners, but the pay is good and there is a very decent inn more than willing to accommodate all of you, and with two rooms none the less- which is far easier to negotiate while the two of you are off to do what you do. The inn-keep is a pleasant, portly man in his middle forties who seems to appreciate Jaskier's way with words, and is more than willing to forgo payment on the rooms in return for a show- and who is Jaskier to disagree with a deal such as that?

His friendly demeanour is welcome too, means the Bard actually has someone to talk to while he awaits your return- but that plan dies a death when the job takes significantly longer than he expects. Normally, it only takes a few hours for something like this, but the sun is set and his songs just coming to an end when you finally return.

The crowds, cider-drunk and rowdy had sang along to every song they knew, and sang over these they didn't- but that was fine. Drinking songs were always nice to hear, but their song dies when the door to the inn-cum-tavern opens and you pad in, followed closely by Geralt. Both drenched from tip to toe and scowling, hair stringy and clothes dark with saturation. That explains a fair bit and even with how upset you look, Jaskier grins, grip on the lute loosening and stage persona rolling off of him. Wet and angry as the two of you are, the sight of you is enough to make the crowd let out a loud, drunken cheer before beginning an enthusiastic if out of tune rendition of Toss a Coin. For once, the Bard is uninterested in joining in and instead opens his arms wide for you, it takes less than a minute for you to run to him and wind your arms around his middle while the people mill around Geralt to interrogate him about monsters and the like. Jaskier sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“You had me worried.”

“Almost drowned. But I’m fine.” You say apologetically against his jerkin. “Tired though.”

“I’ve booked our room. And I think my performance is over.” He says soothing, fingers carding through your wet hair. “Come on, Darling-heart.” He offers a hand, though it takes you a moment or so to reluctantly pull back from him you take it and follow him up to your rented room.

The room is tiny, little more than a box room with just a bed and small table but it’s clean and that is more than enough for you. Before even a minute can pass, you release Jaskier's hand to flop down onto the bed, moaning when you sink down into the mattress.

“Comfortable?” He asks playfully and you hum in agreement.

“I got you wet.” You reply after a minute and Jaskier chuckles.

“I don’t mind, now wait here. I’ve something to sort out for you.” The door clicks as he slips out of the room and you’re alone in the room, just you and the tingling sensation running through your body and making your brain feel as if a mist has descended over it, yet you don’t even realise it until the door opens once more and you lift your head up to look at the noise. It’s a girl, looking about fourteen or so, carrying two large buckets to the archway across from the bed which you had not even noticed, and in your drunken haze you consider why she would be taking buckets to another room through yours. Jaskier follows after her, buckets hanging from each hand and you notice how steam is billowing from the buckets until he disappears beyond the doorway. Confusion comforts your mouth into a frown, so instead of giving it much thought you let yourself sink back into the mattress, deciding it not worthy of a second thought. Water crashing against water echoes from the other room as your eyelids grow heavy and slip shut. Someone had told you once that the sound of water is enough to drive even an insomniac to sleep, you believe them in this moment, the sound of water is so relaxing to your dazed mind that you don’t question why you can hear it at all, so you simply shut your eyes and listen. You have no idea how long you lay there, listening and breathing, it could be seconds or millennia.

“Are you awake, Dear Heart?”

“hmm?”

“Come on, I ordered you a bath, you need it.” A bath. You smile and he grins at you. “Now, darling. Come along. You'll soak the sheets through.”

“I'll soak you through.” You retort tiredly, rolling off of the bed and toeing off your boots before following him into the bath's room. He watches as you walk through and is upon you within seconds, unlacing your corset and unlacing your chemise before you can move your fingers to do it for yourself. “Julian, I know you find me attractive but stripping me?”

“I don’t want you dying of cold.” He chides playfully, kissing the exposed akin of your shoulder as he pulls off the blouse. “Forgive me for loving you.”

“I love you.” You say softly and untie your trousers, pulling them and your underwear off in a single movement. He smiles at the sight and presses a hand to your lower back once you step out of the sopping fabric.

“I know, muse. Now in.” He says encouraging you into the bath, turning to fiddle with a few vials of scented oils. “Rose, Lavender or honeysuckle?”

“Lavender. It smells like you.” You say softly and sink into the water, letting out a loud moan when the heat overtakes you. He turns back to you with a smile and pours a little of the oil into the water.

“Oh, you like the smell of me?” He teases and moves around towards you.

“Of course, I do.”

He smiles at that and sinks down to his knees behind the tub at your back and picks up a rag, soaking it in the water and then moving it up to rub at your shoulders and the knobbles of your spine. The sweet floral smell is carried on the steam coming from the water, sweet and familiar and made all the better by the contented noises that come from you. He likes you like this, all pliant and sleepy and willing to let him help without complaint, it makes him feel useful in ways he never can on hunts. You shoulder so much, act so brave and mature and it’s so nice to see you just let him take control and look after you. He hums a little tune as he washes your back and feels your back move as you chuckle.

“Tickles.” You say, giggly and more awake than before. “What song is that?”

“It’s something my mother used to sing.” He says gently, scooping up some water with his hands and pouring it over your head before working out some of the tangles in your hair. “I don’t think it has a name.”

“It’s pretty.” You hum, head tilting into his hands like a kitten. “Why aren’t you in here with me?”

“I got the bath to warm you up, Silly Little Miss. I’m warm.” He says with a sigh and pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck.

“I want to touch you." You whine, twisting around to face him.

“There's time for that later, Dear Heart. “ He shakes his head affectionately and kisses the tip of your nose. “I have plans for you tonight.”

“Oh?” You ask, leaning up on your knees and allowing your breasts to lean against the lip of the tub. It’s a trick, trying to lure him in, and he knows it, but gods above it’s tempting. Far too much willpower is exerted to not reach out and take them into his hands. A siren, sent to toy with his heart and mind. He sighs and leans in to kiss you gently.

“You remember a few weeks ago? When Geralt slap-"

“Yes!” You interrupt quickly and he rolls his eyes, reaching up to smooth your hair down.

“And you said you liked the feeling?”

“I remember, Jaskier.”

He smiles and rubs his thumb across your cupid’s bow.

“Well. We have the room to ourselves, so I thought that we could experiment with that."

You blink at him owlishly before squinting at him. It would almost be enough to worry him, but he knows you too well to think you’re angry- you’re confused, but still very relaxed.

“Experiment.”

“Yes.”

“With you... hitting me.”

“With you letting me dominate you, spank you, and make you feel good.” He clarifies. It sounds foolish, and far too perverse when laid out so candidly to someone not well versed with this. You nod sagely.

“...And if I ask you to stop them you will.”

“Of course I will.” He says seriously and rests his hands on your shoulders, leaning in so you are eye to eye. “This is for your enjoyment, if you say stop, this stops. Just like always.” You smile and close the gap between his lips and your own. It’s soft and lazy, with no indication of proceeding any further than just chastely kissing, his hands still on your shoulders and your hands creeping up into his hair. It’s perfect, always is, and not for the first time, Jaskier considers that he could spend the rest of forever just kissing you and never be bored. Still, all too soon he pulls away, fetching a towel while you heave yourself out of the tub waiting for the bard and the towel. Even though you reach for it, Jaskier ignores your outstretched arms and instead swaddles you in it himself, drying you.

“I can do it myself!”

“You can, but you won't.” He says firmly, rubbing your skin. Beneath the soft fabric, he can feel you start to struggle which makes him hum and swat at your arse. It’s not enough to hurt, especially through the towel, but it serves as a good warning for who is in charge tonight. Dominance is nothing new for him, but he isn’t dominant with you. You were a virgin when he met you, all sex had to be approached with kid-gloved hands, even now that you are confident with it Jaskier has never felt any need to try and guide you towards that sort of thing. Submission, he had assumed, would be a difficult thing for you; you spend so much time fighting and fending for yourself during fights, asking you to hand over control never seemed to be a good idea. Control keeps you safe but you trust him. Trust him enough to give him control. It’s enough to rush to his head, that level of trust. Of course, it’s flattering when anyone allows him control, but it means so much more when someone who loves him, someone who is so dangerous would allow themselves to be vulnerable. He loves you, has since the second he clapped eyes on you, but this is more than love now, this is adoration. “Now, be a good girl and don’t argue.” Seldom does Jaskier have a need to be stern, so you doing as he says is to be expected. You go limp, eyes wide as he towels you dry. “There’s my good Little Miss.” He says once he finishes, folding the cloth while you stand stock still, pupils blown wide.

“Good.” You repeat back to him, starry-eyed and blushing, so he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before nodding.

“Well, you are my Good Little Miss, aren’t you?” He asks gently, watching the enthusiastic nod he gets in response with a smile. “I know.” He says with an air of finality, turning away from you and heading back into the bedchambers to sit on the bed. It takes a few seconds of silent sitting for you to finally walk to the doorway. You’re naked as the day you were born, wet hair hanging in snakelike tendrils around your face, skin glowing gold from the warm light of the fire reflecting off of the still damp flesh. You’re beautiful. Too beautiful, comfortable in your skin and his looking at you, pale criss-crossing of scars running across the planes of your body like gold holding formerly broken ceramics together. How Jaskier has ever gotten a chance to lay his hands on you is beyond him, why a bard such as himself can even look at you, never mind touch or kiss you. A goddess, battle-hardened and wise, intoxicating and intense but oh so soft and kind.

“You’re staring.” You laugh, leaning against the door frame and smiling at him.

“Yes. Yes I am.” Jaskier says simply and beckons you closer, which you do with a slight swing of your hips that he is entirely sure isn’t purposeful. You settle beside him, looking at him with a look somewhere between reverence and fear- like he's simultaneously the most beautiful and awful thing you’ve ever seen. He hates how much he likes it, the power it feels like he possesses in this moment. You look so small and defenceless, and he is too aware of how large he is by comparison. Usually, Jaskier feels slight- especially in comparison to Geralt and his hulking mass of muscle and manliness- but he’s suddenly far more aware of how big his hands are compared to your own, how he almost dwarfs you in height. You aren’t dainty, and he knows how much damage you can do with little to no effort, but you look so now.

You lean in to him slowly and tilt your head, taking him in before smiling with a raised eyebrow. Well? Your face seems to scream. I'm waiting. It’s all the encouragement he needs to put his hand between your shoulder blades and push your torso over his lap unceremoniously. Every jutting bone, every knobble of spine, outline of rib exposed when you let out a noise of mild confusion, but rest there with your stomach over his thighs. His fingertips, calloused from lute strings but still soft from the warm water, trail down your back slowly; his skin is colder than yours, leaving goose pimples in his wake as he moves towards the rounded flesh of your arse.

Pink and pert, the flesh juts out from the dip at the base of your spine, like a peach. Jaskier loves it. Loves all arses really. There is something so strangely enticing about them, likely the fact they’re so often covered that seeing them seems taboo in a way that seeing tits isn’t. Every inch of your skin that he gets to see is a luxury not afforded to others, and while his hands finally reach the plump skin, he had been moving towards he kisses your back, gripping one cheek firmly while rubbing soft circles into the other. A moan, airy and musical comes from you spurring Jaskier in his ministrations: shifting the cheek to the side, revealing a hole he had never paid much mind to at all, only to release his hold and watch as it bounces back into place. The jiggle is hypnotic, he thinks to himself wordlessly as he repeats the act on the opposite cheek, earning another moan from you in response.

“Jask.” You whine out and he hums in confirmation, feeling you push yourself back against his hand. “Don't tease.” He chuckles. Teasing is hardly what he'd call it. No, this is isn’t teasing, teasing is something gentler than this. This is preparation. He can hardly just start spanking you, especially when you've never done it before, but the whining makes him smirk. “Jask, if you don’t hurry, I’ll go to bed.” You insist and try to push yourself off of him, so he presses down on the middle of your back and brings his hand down on your arse harshly.

The sharp sound of skin-on-skin rings through the air, followed by a gasp. A tingle ran across his palm, and he snicks at the sensation.

“I thought you were my good girl, not a brat, Missy.” He says, voice low and on the verge of a growl. “I told you, I am in control tonight. Not you.”

Brat. You shiver at that, going still, and he smirks, grabbing the cheek he had just struck before tugging at it. He releases it before sliding his hand up your thigh.

“I. I can be good.” You whisper meekly. That isn’t enough though and he swats at the cheek once more, lighter this time.

“You will be good.” He corrects you, leaning in close to your ear and catching sight of your red cheeks and misty eyes. “I know you will be, won’t you Darling?” You nod quickly and he smirks. “That's my Princess.”

At that, your posture loosens and you relax against him. Praise. That’s good to know. Lazily, he rubs a circle against the curve of skin before striking it once more.

“I'm going to hit you ten times, and I want you to count them out loud for me. Can you do that for me?” He asks gently and you nod instantly. “I need you to use your words, Darling.”

“I. I can do that.” You say, tilting your head to look at him with a sweet smile. Jaskier smiles back at you, then brings his hand back down with a hard slap.

“One!” You say loudly, jolting forward and dragging your stomach across his crotch. He’s been so invested in planning and preparing that he hasn’t even noticed the hardness developing between his legs until it’s rubbed against. The moans from the bath had been enough to make him half hard, but seeing you like this, lips parted and the skin of your bottom turning an inviting shade of pink, it’s enough to have him fully hard.

“Two!” You shout out after his hand lands hard against your rear before two more swats come in quick succession.

“Three! Four!” The numbers are more moans than words, loud and needy. In the back of his mind, Jaskier wonders if the drunks downstairs are still singing and making noise, shouting and swearing, or if they too can hear the moans of pleasure. It’s sick, but he wants them to hear. Wants them to hear the pretty song that you’re moaning out, to look at you in the morning as you shift uncomfortably in your seat and know how you loved every second of it, see him smirk and know exactly who drew every noise from you.

He’s a bard. He knows how to make noises, but these might just be the prettiest ones yet. A hand rubs at the pinking skin and then, quickly as it comes it's gone and brought down, this time to the space where arse meets thigh.

“Five!”

He could listen to you moan all day. Sex, or at least sex while travelling, is normally a quiet affair. Quiet murmurs of affirmation, whispered begs and pleas, it’s not enough. Jaskier loves sex, loves the intimacy that comes from being as close to someone as humanly possible, but more so than the enjoyment of sex, Jaskier loves the theatrics of sex. Sex is like performing. Doing all possible to please an enthusiastic audience, listening to the sounds of enjoyment as it builds and crescendos, fingers moving faster, doing his best to not make a fool of himself.

“Six!”

Slap!

“Seven!”

He can’t help himself from hoping that this won't be a one-time occurrence. For a few stolen moments you can hand over control to him and give the both of you what you need.

“Eight!” Your stomach rubs against his cock once more and he chokes back a moan. You'll be the death of him. Ruin him entirely. It isn’t enough that he loves you, isn’t enough that you are the most beautiful person he could dream up, no you have to do things like this. Unintentionally ideal. Perfection given human form.

“Nine!”

His hand comes down one final time and you scream out a broken, “Ten!”, and Jaskier heaves out a sigh, rubbing the red skin as gently as he can to soothe you when you begin to tremble. Calloused fingertips slide softly across the abused flesh.

“Oh Darling. My good girl. My good, brave little miss.” He coos sweetly, gently guiding you up to sit on his lap, one hand still running the skin while the other threads itself in the hair at the nape of your neck. “You did so well.” Gently, he presses his forehead against your own, staring into tear filled eyes. “Oh, Dear Heart, did you not like it?” Worry washes over him suddenly. He should have reminded you that you could say no once more, that he wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Kiss me.” You breathe back against his lips and he sighs softly, hand shifting to your jaw to tug you into a chaste kiss. You tremble against his lap, but kiss back far more forcefully than he had kissed you. Gentle but seeking, tongue pushing between his lips to make its way into his mouth. He smirks slightly, but doesn’t open his mouth, feeling you rock against his lap- sweet nectar between your legs dripping through the fabric of his trousers while shaking fingers toy with the lacing of his doublet.

“Darling-"

“You're wearing far too much.” You whine pulling back to stare at him. “Take it off.”

“Take what off?”

“Everything.” One word has never held so much weight. He could look at you like this for always, so soft and desperate and wanting- it makes his heart beat faster and his cock jumps against the heat of your core. He wants to strip himself, rid himself of the offensive articles and just let you take from him all that he has, but he holds your jaw gently instead, using the warm skin as a means to ground himself once more.

“Ask nicely.”

“Jaskier.” You say with a slight scowl, but he narrows his eyes and tilts his head, trying not to laugh at your intent look. “Please. Please strip.”

“I think you can ask nicer than that, Dear Heart.”

“Julian, please take off your clothes. Please.” You ask softly and trail your hands along the chemise beneath his half-unlaced jerkin. “Please, Dandy? I want to touch you- can I?”

The pet name brings a soft smile to his face, hands moving to your hips to shift you onto the bed before undoing the rest of his jacket and shucking it off, to toss it to the side. Ducking down, he peppers a few feverish kisses to your thighs, toying with the ties of his chemise while you tug it over his head. Needy and half frenzied is unlike you, but he can’t say that it isn’t perfection. Shy, unsure sex has been too common, the occasional rushed shag when you two can spare a few seconds less frequent, but this magically manic need is sweet. Jaskier is a performer; performers preen under the watchful eye of attentive audience, need the knowledge of a job well done, which he normally gets from you in the form of moans and frantic rutting. This enthusiasm is perfection, especially while his face is so close to your cunt that he can smell the arousal dripping from it.

Nudity can wait, The Bard smirks, grips your thighs in a vice-like grip and widens the distance between them so he can get his mouth on your sex, tongue gathering slick and relishing that sweet, musky taste. Sweeter than any fruit, more addictive than any wine. Jaskier’s lips find your clit, that bud of nerves that might as well contain every breathless moan that you can fit in your body, and sucks, tongue flicking across it with the moans and curses that such an act wrings from you. Nose buried in the curls that cover your mount, cornflower eyes look up to take you in, writhing in ecstasy, breasts quivering with every stuttered breath. He knew that he had missed something while spanking you’d but it falls into place now. Your face.

Every emotion flit across it, as clear to read as sheet music to him. You have an expressive face at the best of times, but it only seems heightened by sex. He knows many men prefer not to face their lovers and, hell, in his more adventurous days had preferred it himself, but seeing how you feel written across your features is part of the joy of sex. It had taken a while to convince you to stop silencing yourself during intimacy, that those moans are his and hard earned, but those expressions mean even more. Miniscule twitches of the brows and lips that let him know that you enjoy what he is doing, he loves them. Loves you. Those noises are meaningless without that face, pink and contorted with pleasure. That face. He could stare at it all day.

He doesn’t miss Lettenhove, not for a minute, but he does miss paintings. Portraits, moments trapped in time, forever perfect. He wants a painting of moments like this; nothing pornographic, just your face, with not a care for anything but pleasure. To see him through those nights when hunting takes too long and he's long asleep by the time you return. A little painting to have with him always.

“Jaskier-" You whimper, fingers curled into his hair and tugging. “Please. Please.”

He hums softly and slaps your thigh, revelling in the sweet little gasp that comes from you before a gush of fluid hits his lips. The Bard pulls back and blinks in shock. You’re shaking, twisting in the blankets as he just breathes you in. Squirted. You just squirted on him. He was half convinced that such a thing was just A rumour but... you did it.

Blinking rapidly, Jaskier stares up at you awestruck and starry-eyed, trying desperately not to spill into his trousers.

Oh yes. This is going to be a regular occurrence.

#jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #jaskier x you #dom jaskier #witcher imagine #jaskier smut

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hellacioushag · 3 years

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surfalldaybaby said: I actually disagree. Elain has seen death looked it in the face w her sisters and Rhys ans mor and cassian and Azriel ans lucien Im sure she’s not ignorant to the violence that they all do. She might not support it or partake but she’s not meek. Lucien was part of the team that forced her to turn far az saved her. I don’t think violence is a romantic or plantoic deterent for her she just doesn’t choose to identify w it

i don’t see elain as meek. not wanting to be surrounded by violence is not meek. it’s knowing your limits and knowing yourself. i don’t think someone capable of shoving a dagger through the throat of someone trying to murder her sister is meek. and i also don’t think knowing that violence is not something she wants in her life is meek either. it takes a lot of strength to know your limitations and what’s best for you.

i think elain can handle a lot, but it’s canon that the inner circle (people who have known azriel for over 500 years) find his methods of torture and interrogation unsettling and disturbing. so someone like elain, who does not like violence and walked away from it after the war, i doubt would be as willing to accept that side of him. but hey, we don’t know for sure, maybe elain would be really into watching az torture people with truth teller - we don’t know cause she hasn’t been there.

that was the point of my post. elain has not witnessed azriel lose control of his temper or seen him as the cold torture master. she has only seen him as her savior and quiet companion. being the silent and kind bat boi is not all azriel is and i do not see elain being able to accept all his darkness. and it shouldn’t be her responsibility to change everything about who she is to fit into his world.

now as for lucien, you are correct he was there when she was taken, turned, and traumatized. she saw him there next to tamlin. but do you know what else she saw? she saw him fight to get to her, she saw him break away from hybern and shelter her, she saw him not being complicit to her trauma. does she blame him for being turned? we don’t know cause we haven’t gotten inside her head, but i doubt it. it seems her biggest issue is the bond and not that he was there when she was turned. but i could be wrong. she may harbor ill feelings toward him for being there with tamlin - though we don’t have her book yet so all this speculation doesn’t make it true.

#acotar #anti e/riel #elucien #elain archeron #azriel #lucien vanserra #surfalldaybaby

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linkspooky · 4 years

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There Are No True Heroes

Dabi is shown wrapped in shadow as he confronts Hawks this chapter. That is because as his foil, as both of them were abused by the hero system as basically raised as child soldiers under the name of “hero training” they are two sides of the same coin. No one is closer to Hawks than Dabi, because Dabi is his own shadow. Dabi however is not just serving as a shadow for Hawks in a Jungian sense, but as a collective shadow for hero society as a whole. Read More underneath the cut explaining Dabi’s words for how there can be no true heroes in a society that doesn’t save people like Twice or Touya Todoroki.

1. A Society of Repression

Before getting the ball rolling I’m going to introduce some terms important to Jungian Psychology.

Jung saw the conscious mind divided in two. This is often referred to as the “iceberg model” because for the same reason that the titanic failed to dodge the ice berg, most people don’t have a true comprehension of personality because there’s much more going on than just what can be perceived in the surface.

The surface of personality is called the ego or the conscious mind. This is all of the thoughts you are aware of, all of the decisions you make, like your behavior, how you act, what you say, what you think, all of these things are conscious aspects of personality. They’re referred to as consicous because we can see, look at, control them to some extent. For example people tend to behave differently depending on their environment, you don’t usually swear in front of your grandparents but you might around your friends. The fact that you are choosing how you present yourself means part of personality will always be a performance.

The unconscious mind is specifically what you are not aware of. It’s everything else that makes up personality. Jung believed the unconscious mind existed in a form called the shadow. The shadow is cast by what the light of consciousness projects, and consists of everything that consciousness excludes. It is the unknown side. If the consciousness is the face, the shadow is the reverse face.

It’s the difference of who you choose to be and who you are at heart.

“We can speak of the conscious ego as the subjective personality, and of the shadow self as the objective personality.”

Because one tends to reject or remain ignorant of the least desirable aspects of one's personality, the shadow is largely negative. There are, however, positive aspects that may also remain hidden in one's shadow (especially in people with low self-esteem, anxieties, and false beliefs).

The mechanism that people use to remain unaware of these aspects of their personality is called repression.

Repression. Repression. The unconscious suppression of psychic contents that are incompatible with the attitude of consciousness. Repression is a process that begins in early childhood under the moral influence of the environment and continues through life. [“The Personal and the Collective Unconscious,” CW 7,]

In general, people have a tendency to avoid rather than confront issues, especially if those issues are personal ones. Repression is a technique of avoidance to try to keep the mind healthy in spite of internal or external stress. Psychologically speaking it’s avoiding the problem. While of course it’s impossible to live life confronting every single problem possible, there’s still a difference between acknowledging a problem and admitting that it’s a problem and dealing with it by simply pretending that it is not there. Repression renders problems invisble by turning a blind eye to them, which is why this meta will be speaking of societal repression on a whole later one.

Jung suggests the idea that repression, having a shadow, being two-faced is not something that certain individuals do but rather something everybody is doing at the same time. In a society of people who all have this unconscious aspect of their mind Jung suggests the collective unconscious exists.

That the shared human experience of everybody existing within a society will create a collective suboncious amongst these people. The collective unconscious is unconscious ideas of society or life that just seem to be there. The myth of the hero itself is a product of collective unconscious, Jung posits every culture comes up with myths of heroes because that idea exists in some deep layer of our minds and it’s something we all have in common beyond the bounds of personal consciousness.

So just to summarize quickly you have three layers, personal conscious who you choose to be, the shadow who you are, and the collective unconscious what society is.

In Jung’s terms absolutely everything has a shadow.

"The image of God has a shadow. The supreme meaning is real and casts a shadow. For what can be actual and corporeal and have no shadow?"

All Might and All For One are literally a symbolic hero and shadow pairing. All Might is someone who attempts to influence society by being the best hero he can be, All For One tries to control society too through violent methods. All Might is conscious of how he wants to create a peaceful, controlled society but unconscious of the violence inherent in his actions.

The shadow is something that everyone collectively ignores as well. Someone even points out that All Might’s actions are still violence whether it’s heroic or not and All Might doesn’t even address the argument he just blows it off. In a repressed society the issues that everyone wants to avoid aren’t dealt with they’re insvisible.

So not only is there an individual repression, but there are also aspects of societal repression. If everything casts a shadow then society itself can cast a shadow. The issues that everyone is avoiding, the issues that everyone is ignorant to will manifest in some way.

"Unfortunately there can be no doubt that man is, on the whole, less good than he imagines himself or wants to be. Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is. If an inferiority is conscious, one always has a chance to correct it. Furthermore, it is constantly in contact with other interests, so that it is continually subjected to modifications. But if it is repressed and isolated from consciousness, it never gets corrected."

This is an idea that has been expressed in comics several times before. One of the most famous ones is Rorsharch’s monologue from Watchmen.

Rorsarch’s monologue is expressing a strictly Jungian idea. If no one attempts to deal with the problems that are inherent in modern day society and effect everybody, then those problematic elements will eventually float to the surface no matter how much they’re ignored. If one person litters it’s not a big deal, but if one hundred people litter then there’s going to be trash everywhere. If people keep ignoring the trash everywhere and make no attempt to deal with it, the problem is just going to stick around until it’s impossible to ignore.

This is what we are witnessing happening in My Hero Academia as of this arc. The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will form up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout, save us!

The League of Villains are not just characters. They are the manifestations of what has been repressed about society. They are the filth that has accumulated floating to the surface. This is an inevitability with repression. Everything that is repressed will show eventually.

2. There Are No Real Heroes

Dabi’s statement “There are No Real Heroes” isn’t just him being an edgelord. It’s a genuine response to the trauma he’s suffered. There’s on example from another piece of media I think illustrates this perfectly.

Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode is a story where children who were abused begin a rebellion first by killing the adults who abused them, and then against the society that ignored their abuse, but they begin taking it too far and slaughter adults who were not involved.

There is one moment in the game where the main character, a normal girl who has never been abused by an adult confronts one of the children about this. The best argument she can come up with is “Not all adults...”

The child’s response is to scream: “Then why didn’t anyone save me?”

If the world is good. If people are just. If heroes exist. Then why did this little girl not get saved? Why was she abused by the people around her? Why did no one else come to help?

Remember Jung, people are on a whole not as good as we imagine them to be. The heroes in My Hero Academia are the same. We are told that they save people. We are told that they are good and right. Yet we witness countless examples of heroes not saving people. We see heroes being used as tools of violent suppression, rather than saving people.

There are no real heroes. In Stain’s words, heroes are phonies. That’s because heroes are not as good as we are told they are. Society is not as good as we are told.

What’s important is that a child is screaming this. What good is a society that can’t save one little girl? How do you expect a child to understand the reasons why they weren’t saved? For Dabi, for Stain, heroes are people who we are told are good but don’t act good. This is especially prevalent for Dabi who was hurt personally and had his entire family destroyed by one of the bad heroes. How is Dabi supposed to believe that heroes are good, when not only does Endeavor who doesn’t care about saving other people only defeating strong enemies is constantly praised as a good hero, but also completely got away with what he did to his family.

There is Endeavor the hero.

There is Endeavor’s shadow.

How can one of his victims. Someone who was most likely killed by him really believe that heroes exist when he was killed by a hero? How can he believe society is good when his father is praised by society. This is what repression does it makes people ignorant, and therefore complicit. Endeavor is not just the problem he’s propped up by society as a whole. Even people who are good, well-intentioned people end up supporting Endeavor completely ignorant to what he’s done.

All might literally not only openly supports a child abuser like Endeavor, but praises him as a good hero, and even reccomends other children like Bakugo and Deku study under him. How much of this is genuine igonrance, and how much is intenitonal negligence? Todoroki walks around with a scar on his face and a clear chip on his shoulder about his dad. All Might doesn’t notice because he’s never questioned hero society before.

This is something we are shown over and over about hero society. That it thrives by intentional negligence. Shigaraki’s not being edgy once again he’s talking from experience.

Shigaraki suffers a terrible accident and despite wandering around looking for help at five years old in one of the most densely populated places with several heroes running around not a single person comes to help him. It’s not just ignorance it’s intentional negligence, because Shigaraki’s not a good or virtuous victim, because Heroes don’t save people they beat up villains. They’re a tool for violent suppression.

All Might acting as the symbol of peace also acted as a symbol of repression. Because there are groups of people who don’t get saved by All Might. People like Twice who will never get saved. How can they call themselves heroes if the weakest, the worst off, the most damaged are always thrown to the wolves.

3. A Reckoning

What is repressed cannot stay repressed forever. Dabi is covered in shadow this entire chapter, because he’s acting as a stand-in for the repressed id of society. The shadow that is there and is created by the heroes. He even parallels the way Hawks was a few chapters ago.

Another unheroic hero. A hero who doesn’t save someone crying and begging for help in front of them and instead decides to stab them in the back because that’s is what is easiest and most convenient.

Hawks. Endeavor. Heroes in general, claim to be heroic, claim to never give up. But then don’t bother to save people like twice, even when they’re crying and begging in front of them. We are being presented with heroes as they exist in the ideal, and then the way heroes actually act. Miruko says a hero never gives up, Hawks gave up on Twice and tried to murder him ridiclously fast.

The light casts a shadow, this is a paradox we’ve seen before with Endeavor too. Hawks sees Endeavor as an ideal of someone who never gives up.

Natsuo rightfully pointed out that Endeavor gave up all too quickly actually. He gave up fighting against All Might and instead abused his wife and children.

For every single action there is the light and there is the shadow. However, hero society never acknowledges the shadow and chooses to repress its evils instead of confronting them. It’s not that Endeavor abused his family it’s that he got away with it, not a single person held him accountable. Hawks was taken in by the hero commission in the exact same way that Shigaraki was by AFO, and nobody held them accountable for doing that to a child.

Child abuse is still child abuse even if the “good guys” are doing it. In Jungian ideas if nothing is confronted about society then eventually something will rise up.

"[The figure of the Trickster] is the collective shadow."

A collective shadow. A collective societal Id. Returning to Rorsharch’s quote it’s quite literally the trash that everyone threw away floating back up to the surface and brought to light. This is why people are moved by Stain’s words, because it is in a way a wake up call to confront what is wrong about society.

Stain, Shigaraki, Dabi all three of them are manifesting of literal collective shadows of society. They are there to confront what everyone is told is good and show the darker sides to things.

That is essentially what Dabi is talking about. Dabi himself is not just an abused child, he stands in for all of the abused children who get left behind or ignored by society.

What Dabi is talking about is a reckoning. The confrontation with the shadow of society that will inevitably happen. The garbage floating to the surface. Dabi is embodying that shadow in his actions. Individuals don’t matter. What matters is the collective will of everybody, all of the outcasts banded together, everything which can be no longer ignored.

Which is why in a Jungian sense, the league themselves do not matter. Dabi himself does not matter. Not even Hawks matters. What matters is the ideas they represent behind them. It’s why Dabi cannot be killed, because eventually hero society continuing on unchanged will just create another Dabi.

Individuals and individual suffering do not matter in the face of hero society. That’s what Dabi is angrily reminding Hawks of. He may have just saved a bunch of people by killing Twice, but nobody is going to thank him, his deeds are going to go unrewarded, because in the end Hawks too is somebody as equally disposable as Dabi and Twice. What matters is the ideas they represent, and Hawks has murdered someone in the name of resisting change to the status quo while Dabi is trying to fight it. Hawks too is complicit in the same system that abused him as a child, and his actions do nothing to stop that abuse.

A reckoning. A fall. A shadow that is not confronted or acknowledged will never change. If it is repressed it will never get corrected. My Hero Academia posits that not only is hero society falling inevitable, it is also necessary. Dabi himself is a villain, but he’s also acting as the shadow of all of the ills of society in order to force society to confront those ills rather than just continue on ignoring them.

#mha meta #hawks #dabi #league of villains #hero society #takami keigo #todoroki touya #my hero academia meta #my hero academia

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devilsskettle · 3 years

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oh man i have a Lot of thoughts about the autopsy of jane doe, both positive and critical For Sure, i'd be SO excited to see your analysis of it! definitely keeping an eye out for that 👀

thanks! i'm working on something article-like to talk about the film and i don't know what i want to do with it yet lol but if i don't post it on here i'll definitely link it. it's mainly a discussion of gender in possession/occult films in the same way that carol clover describes in men, women, and chainsaws - that there are dual plot lines in occult films, usually gendered masculine and feminine respectively, where the "main" feminine plot (the actual possession) is actually a way to explore the "real" masculine plot (the emotional conflict of the "man in crisis" protagonist). typically the man in crisis is too masculine, or "closed" emotionally, where the woman is too "open," which is why she acts as the vehicle for the supernatural occurrence as well as the core emotions of the film. the man has to learn how to become more open (though if he becomes too open, like father karras in the exorcist, he has to die by the end - he has to find a happy medium, where he doesn't actually transgress gender expectations too much. clover calls this state the "new masculine," and we might apply the term "toxic masculinity" to the "closed" emotional state). part of the "opening up" feature of the story is that it allows men to be highly emotionally expressive in situations where they otherwise might not be allowed to, which is cathartic for the assumed primary audience of these films (young men). another feature of the genre is white science vs black magic (once you exhaust the scientific "rational" explanations, you have to accept that something magic is happening). the autopsy of jane doe does this even more than the films she discusses when she published the book in 1992 (the exorcist, poltergeist, christine, etc) because the supernaturally influenced young woman who becomes this kind of vehicle is more of an object than a character. she doesn't have a single line of dialogue or even blink for the entire runtime of the movie. the camerawork often pans to her as if to show her reactions to the events of the movie, which seems kind of pointless because it's the same reaction the whole time (none) but it allows the viewer to project anything they want onto her - from personal suffering to cunning and spite.

compare again to the exorcist: is the story actually about regan mcneil? no. but do we care about her? sure (clover says no, but i think we at least feel for her situation lol). and do we get an idea of what she's like as a person? yes. even though her pain and her body are used narratively as a framework for karras' emotional/religious crisis, we at least see her as a person. both she and her mother are expendable to the "real" plot but they're very active in their roles in the "main" plot - our "jane doe" isn't afforded even that level of agency or identity. so. is that inherently sexist? well, no - if there were other women in the film who were part of the "real" plot, i would say that the presence of women with agency and identity demonstrate enough regard for the personhood of women to make the gender of the subject of the autopsy irrelevant. but there are none. of the three important women in the film, we have 1) an almost corpse, 2) an absent (dead) mother, and 3) a one dimensional girlfriend who is killed off for a man's character development/cathartic expression of emotions. all three are just platforms for the men in crisis of this narrative.

and, to my surprise, much of the reception to the film is to embrace it as a feminist story because the witch is misconstrued as a badass, powerful, Strong Female Character girl boss type for getting revenge on the men who wronged her, with absolutely no consideration given to what the movie actually ends up saying about women. and the director has said that he embraces this interpretation, but never intended it. so like. of course you're going to embrace the interpretation that gives you critical acclaim and the moral high ground. but it's so fucking clear that it was never his intention to say anything about feminism, or women in general, or gender at all. so i find it very frustrating that people read the film that way because it's just. objectively wrong.

there's also things i want to say about this idea that clover talks about in a different chapter of the book when she discusses the country/city divide in a lot of horror (especially rape-revenge films) in which the writer intends the audience to identify with the city characters and be against the country characters (think of, like, house of 1000 corpses - there's pretty explicit socioeconomic regional tension between the evil country residents and the travelers from the city) but first, they have to address the real harm that the City (as a whole) has inflicted upon the Country (usually in the forms of environmental and economic destruction) so in order to justify the antagonization the country people are characterized by, their "retaliation" for these wrongs has to be so extreme and misdirected that we identify with the city people by default (if country men feel victimized by the City and react by attacking a city woman who isn't complicit in the crimes of the City in any of the violent, heinous ways horror movies employ, of course we won't sympathize with them). why am i bringing this up? well, clover says this idea is actually borrowed from the western genre, where native americans are the Villains even as white settlers commit genocide - so they characterize them as extremely savage and violent in order to justify violence against them (in fiction and in real life). the idea is to address the suffering of the Other and delegitimize it through extreme negative characterization (often, with both the people from the country and native americans, through negative stereotyping as well as their actions). so i think that shows how this idea is transferred between different genres and whatever group of people the writers want the viewers to be against, and in this movie it’s happening on the axis of gender instead of race, region, or class. obviously the victims of the salem witch trials suffered extreme injustice and physical violence (especially in the film as victim of the ritual the body clearly underwent) BUT by retaliating for the wrongs done to her, apparently (according to the main characters) at random, she's characterized as monstrous and dangerous and spiteful. her revenge is unjustified because it’s not targeted at the people who actually committed violence against her. they say that the ritual created the very thing it was trying to destroy - i.e. an evil witch. she becomes the thing we're supposed to be afraid of, not someone we’re supposed to sympathize with. she’s othered by this framework, not supported by it, so even if she’s afforded some power through her posthumous magical abilities, we the viewer are not supposed to root for her. if the viewer does sympathize with her, it’s in spite of the writing, not because of it. the main characters who we are intended to identify with feel only shallow sympathy for her, if any - even when they realize they’ve been cutting open a living person, they express shock and revulsion, but not regret. in fact, they go back and scalp her and take out her brain. after realizing that she’s alive! we’re intended to see this as an acceptable retaliation against the witch, not an act of extreme cruelty or at the very least a stupid idea lol.

(also - i hate how much of a buzzword salem is in movies like this lol, nothing about her injuries or the story they “read” on her is even remotely similar to what happened in salem, except for the time period. i know they don’t explicitly say oh yeah, she was definitely from salem, but her injuries really aren’t characteristic of american executions of witches at all so i wish they hadn’t muddied the water by trying to point to an actual historical event. especially since i think the connotation of “witch” and the victims of witch trials has taken on a modern projection of feminism that doesn’t really make sense under any scrutiny. anyway)

not to mention the ending: what was the writer intending the audience to get from the ending? that the cycle of violence continues, and the witch’s revenge will move on and repeat the same violence in the next place, wherever she ends up. we’re supposed to feel bad for whoever her next victims will be. but what about her? i think the movie figures her maybe as triumphant, but she’s going to keep being passed around from morgue to morgue, and she’s going to be vivisected again and again, with no way to communicate her pain or her story. the framework of the story doesn’t allow for this ending to be tragic for her, though - clearly the tragedy lies with the father and son, finally having opened up to one another, unfortunately too late, and dying early, unjust deaths at the hands of this unknowable malignant entity. it doesn’t do justice to her (or the girlfriend, who seems to be nothing but collateral damage in all of this - in the ending sequence, when the police finds the carnage, it only shows them finding the bodies of the men. the girlfriend is as irrelevant to the conclusion as she is to the rest of the plot).

but does this mean the autopsy of jane doe is a “bad” movie? i guess it depends on your perspective. ultimately, it’s one of those questions that i find myself asking when faced with certain kinds of stories that inevitably crop up often in our media: how much can we excuse a story for upholding regressive social norms (even unintentionally) before we have to discount the whole work? i don’t think the autopsy of jane doe warrants complete rejection for being “problematic” but i think the critical acclaim based on the idea that it’s a feminist film should be rejected. i still consider it a very interesting concept with strong acting and a lot of visual appeal, and it’s a very good piece of atmospheric horror. it’s does get a bit boring at certain points, but the core of the film is solid. it’s also not trying to be sexist, arguably it’s not overtly sexist at all, it’s just very very androcentric at the expense of its female characters, and i’m genuinely shocked that anyone would call it feminist. so sure, let’s not throw the baby out with the bath water, but let’s also be critical about how it’s using women as the stage for men’s emotional conflict

also re: my description of this little project as “a film isn’t feminist just because there’s a woman’s name in the title” - i actually don’t want to skim over the fact that “jane doe” isn’t a real name. of the three women in the film, only one has a real name; the other two are referred to by names given to them by men. i’ll conclude on this note because i want to emphasize the lack of even very basic ways of recognizing individual identity afforded to women in this film. so yeah! the end! thanks for your consideration if you read this far!

#the autopsy of jane doe #men women and chainsaws #horror #also to be clear i'm not saying that the exorcist is somehow more feminist because. it's not. i'm just using it as a frame of reference #you'd think a film from 2016 would escape the ways gender is constructed in one from 1973 but that's not really the case #i actually rewatched the end of the movie to make sure that what i said about the girlfriend's body not being found at the end was accurate #and yeah! it is! the intended audience-identified character shifts to the sheriff who - that's right! - is also a man #the camerawork is: shot of the dead son / shot of the sheriff looking sad / shot of the dead father / shot of the sheriff looking sad /#shot of jane doe / shot of the sheriff looking upset angry and suspicious #which is how we're supposed to feel about the conclusion for each character #the girlfriend is notably absent in this sequence #anyway! this is less about me condemning this movie as sexist and more about looking at how women in occult horror #continue to be relegated to secondary plot lines at best or to set dressing for the primary plot line at worst #and what that says about identification of viewers with certain characters and why writers have written the story that way #i think the reception of the film as Feminist might actually point to a shift in identification - but to still be able to enjoy the movie #while identifying with a female character you need to change the narrative that's actually presented to you #hence the rampant impulse to misinterpret the intention of the filmmakers #we do want it to be feminist! the audience doesn't identify with the 'default' anymore automatically #i think that's actually a pretty positive development at least in viewership - if only filmmakers would catch up lol #oh and i only very briefly touched on this here but the white science vs black magic theme is pretty clearly reflected in this film also

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