#the way they cannot express intimacy without violence. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phlve · 1 year

Text

Subtype Trait Structures: sx2

Aggressive

The Sexual E2 finds it difficult to ask. He is incapable of frankly asking for fear of appearing as a human being and not a divine being, so he allows himself to manipulate and adopt an exigent position. Pushing and invading, he takes up more space than the space that is his. He adopts the posture of a deserving narcissist. The vital strategy that he brings into play evokes the obtention of a larger space in terms of attention within his original family.

He is impulsive and his motto is: “Make love and war”. When he’s going after a goal, he doesn’t look around, and focuses exclusively on his desires, which he confuses with real needs. His aggressiveness is expressed in the form of impulsion in the action. Raising his voice. Buying the other with affection or whatever he lacks. Making a scene and, similarly to the E8, the end justifies the means and the intensity of the action leads to emotional disconnection, which is sometimes confused with the lusty character. This whole mechanism hides the difficulty in tolerating frustration, limits, the word “no” as an insurmountable barrier; a border that, in its exaggerated dimensions, feels like humiliation.

The person of this character can become violent, brash, and disdainful. In intimacy, upon reaching a certain threshold of frustration, he reacts with indifference or abandonment without too much contemplation or wasted time. He makes up for the loss by continuing his seduction with another candidate, and covers in this way the feelings of loss, frustration, and pain.

In this attitude he differs from the Social E2, who expresses more aggressiveness in the intellectual aspect, with arguments and explanations. And, above all, he differs from the Conservation E2, where aggressiveness is hidden under a childish halo of huffs and tantrums more than an explicit violence, and can be turned against himself, in accordance with the gestaltic mechanism of retroflexion. This is something hardly seen in the Sexual E2, who is fully capable of pouring all his impulse outwards.

Hypersensitive

Pride is sustained through an aggrandized self-image that, occasionally, has to be protected from the world. When he faces confrontation, criticism… or even at the smallest attack on his image, the prideful response is immediate. The volume of the response has little to do with the stimulus, but rather obeys to his hypersensitivity.

When an arrow trespasses the ego defenses and hits right in the middle of the conscience, unveiling a lie or falsehood, he explodes in hyperreactivity, in the face of a painful concern that he cannot tolerate. Before letting himself be hurt, before recognizing this truth that would destroy his ego construction, at the slightest scratch in his self-image, he automatically gets the impulse to defend himself from the attack. He tells himself that pride is an emotional state that is “easy to hurt”. It is simply an ancient and primal humiliation that hurt him as a child and left him without the capacity to distinguish between having boundaries, being criticized, and being humiliated.

The “thin skin” may or may not be conscious, depending on the level of maturity. But what differentiates the Sexual E2 from the other subtypes is the “spontaneous” compulsivity of the reaction, this automatism of maximum “freedom of expression” of the impulse.

Idolization of Desire

The passion of the Sexual E2 is to feel passion. The passion of being dragged and of dragging through the intensity of an idealized and genitalized love. Live out the impulse that gives him meaning and strength, in a way that makes it difficult to refuse or postpone any desire, especially in love. The desire is converted into an uninhibited momentum in search of immediate gratification, with manipulative strategies, whatever it takes. He is, in this way, impatient, fickle, and impatient, chasing what he doesn’t have but believes he deserves.

The most important desire is the desire to be loved and pleased, that of being special in love. It is difficult for the Sexual E2 to accept: that which he needs most, he is unwilling to give into. That what he needs is to learn to love. So his difficulty is in the romantic commitment, compromise, and depth.

He searches for a type of love that serves a neurotic need that could never be satisfied. That which he lacks is what he now searches for unconsciously, and he does this by repeating a type of deficient love based on seduction in the place of this being provided by his parents in the family. His tank is empty, this painful sensation that indicates that not everything is so great and so full of love, bordering on envy and putting in danger the whole ego structure.

Impulsive and Without Limits

Someone so wild and impulsive needs freedom. This happens due to a lack of limits; he takes pleasure in violating the rules, in the name of feeling more than thinking. As affirms a Sexual E2: “For me, rules are simply optional guidelines.”

There is, in this character, a phobia of feeling the limits imposed on him by external forces. The addiction to the emotional state of the moment gives him an air of freedom that can be confused with the spontaneous truth that, in reality, responds to a difficulty in renouncing the immediate gratification of the impulse. It is for this reason that he appears incongruent and irresponsible.

The Sexual E2, since childhood, is used to getting what he wants, like an echo of the oedipal situation in which he got a place of intimacy with the parent of the opposite sex. A place that did not belong to him and that he achieved through seduction — induced ambiguously by his own father or mother —, while displacing the parent of the same sex, with whom he has, generally, a conflictive relationship.

He is the wildest and most free of the E2 subtypes. Much more than the Conservation E2, without going further, who adopts an infantile position with the sacrifice of a big part of his liberty in order to obtain a privileged relation with the parents, and has to be the best boy or the best girl, which leads to a greater loss of free and spontaneous impulse.

Freedom or, rather, the feeling of being “free” is related with the lack of limits, which were never imposed on him, or that came from an excessive authority that was seduced to overcome the fear of being crushed to death.

Dependent

Apparently independent, he flaunts his freedom, which he confuses with debauchery. But in reality it is a hidden, sly dependence; a dependence that is unspeakable even to himself for it would shatter his idealized image. He needs the other to feel validated, as well as this contact, affective and carnal, where he obtains what he desires.

In denying the lack, the reason the person comes to therapy is usually a relationship issue, where he feels abandoned and the edifice that sustains his pride is destroyed.

Histrionic

Currently the word “histrionic” is used to define the whole emotional stage of the E2 character, especially the Sexual E2, who is a specialist in dramatizing emotion. He is also called “histrionic”, for his intense feeling of emotionality and impulsivity; the emotional goes far beyond reason, and is prone to “emotional outbursts”. But the word histrionic is very precise and refers to his theatricality.

The staging of this emotional scene may have nothing to do with his profound emotions. It is only a representation to obtain something else, while hiding the real need that triggered the energetic mobilization. Oftentimes this is unconscious, as all the motivation or sensation is related to the aspect of deficiency, to something that doesn’t align with his aggrandized selfimage, so it is relegated to the unconscious through the principal mechanism of the E2: repression. While staging scenes is characteristic of the E2 in general, the expansive and aggressive theatrical capacity of the Sexual E2 makes him the most scandalous and shameless subtype.

Histrionics is, in the Sexual E2, particularly obvious. As much as he is prisoner of the shell of his character, he is the best actor specialized in expressing warmth in his distinct declensions. He differs from the Conservation and Social E2 due to his free and shameless expression of passion. He can surrender to his effusions so much that he lacks the words to express all that he feels and neither his eyes, nor his hands, nor his whole body are enough to communicate his feelings; he wants to break through the other with his voice, with his gaze, and with the fire of his passion.

The very impetuous personalities are still very much capable of expressing rage and struggle, in an emotional catharsis similar to what an actor experiences during a climactic scene. Through seduction he can attain new, higher levels of creativity and expressive wealth: catlike rhythm, submissive gaze that wants to penetrate the other, a mix of tenderness and force, of heat and instinct, a great liberty in physical contact, a natural disinhibition to nakedness, and all sorts of expressions of eroticism that produce an enormous pleasure.

Rebel and Transgressor

In the E2 lives the pitiful sensation of being a fraud, which makes him feel like a fake and, thus, guilty. One of the ways of escaping this is disinhibition and the transgression of the social rules, not as a result of some real autonomy of judgement and action, but rather as an expression of the neurotic need to stand out, with the end goal of obtaining admiration from the people that arouse his interest.

The sexual subtype takes this to the field of erotic-affective relations, including love triangles. He considers himself a depository for new social rules through sexual freedom, with an exhibition of vitality and a feeling of superiority in regards to the most common relationship bonds.

It is not difficult for the Sexual E2 to become an advocate for the triumphs of the libido, even with modalities that are provocative or scandalous according to common sense, like a form of narcissistic self-satisfaction.

He needs to feel exalted in relationships where he imagines himself to be at the center of the other’s desires, and intensely emotional, without which he feels dry, empty, threatened by the isolation and dangerously sad. All this is accompanied by the fantasy that it is the others who need his welcoming generosity, when in reality it is he who needs to constantly feel validated in his worth.

Hedonist

The Sexual E2 is a hedonist; his search for pleasure serves the avoidance of pain and of any situation that could potentially lead to frustration, which he cannot tolerate. How could someone tell him no? Or not respond to his need to be adored!

To avoid facing this limit he can entangle the other in a persistent promise of pleasure. These seduction games quench the Sexual E2’s hedonism as well as his need to break the routine with new experiences. As pointed out by Claudio Naranjo, the desire for pleasure can be considered a substitute for it; and the E2, with his need to eliminate any problematic, bothersome, or non-gratifying part of his life, searches for it in love. His low tolerance to frustration, when he doesn’t feel wanted, leads him to a state of anger and agitation that serves to break the dreaded routine.

Hedonism turns him into a consumerist of relations and objects, as he is indulgent in his intense desire to give and to obtain pleasure.

Idealized Self-image

The Sexual E2’s image is inflated and grandiose. Radiant and magnificent in fantasy, he is not grounded in reality and facts. It is a dream, but a contagious dream, that convinces himself and others. It is different from the E3’s narcissism, whose marketing of the image is endorsed by titles, by an agenda full of concrete things he has achieved, by hours spent at the gym, by a big wardrobe, or by an excessive taste for cosmetics and plastic surgery.

The image of the vampire, of the femme fatale, who needs to taste and attract, is the ideal compensation from a childhood wound. And the energy invested in preventing this idealized image from crumbling is what provokes a disconnection from the depth of his self.

This theatricalized image, putting on a scene with all the attributes of a liar, made up of intimate music in the voice’s tone, provocation in seductive gestures and in the clothing, and of a suspiciously exaggerated capacity to give.

Lack of Consequences

In this discrepancy between the reality and the self-image, the Sexual E2 imagines himself as great, generous, and helpful.

He lives in the present in an excessive manner, as if to accord himself today what was promised yesterday. He tells you: “I’m going to help you” with everything. Or: “You know you can always count on me”. Or: “I’ll support you in everything you do”. But when the time comes, the promise is not translated into concrete action. It’s more of a sentiment that exists in that given moment, the fruit of an emotional impulse that sustains his image. And when the occasion comes, there is not much of a service provided.

Universal Donor

Someone who feels so superior to others believes that he has much to give in every sense. Someone who continually flees pain, and searches for pleasure through love, cannot give precisely that; love, as he doesn’t have any. But on the contrary, he presents himself as a great donor of love.

Given his feeling of prideful superiority, his high principles in life, love and relationships lead him to see himself as a moral wonder, so he stops taking into account the consequences of his actions as being real.

By structuring his character, his need for affection and to feel like the center of the world transforms into the act of giving love and care. And in all this giving, one thought never leaves him: he hopes that others will recognize all that he has done for them. In his aggrandizement, he pays more attention to what he will receive than what he does for others. It is a continuous action to ensure that others see him, and with a self-image so great, the gratefulness he expects never comes, which causes the pertinacious frustration.

This effort is characteristic to the Sexual E2, which can in turn inflate his ego, conjuring in this way the buried idea of not deserving of his internal humiliated counterpart.

Anti-intellectual

The Sexual E2 is the most emotional of the emotional. The Sexual E4, also expert in very intense and dramatic emotional manifestations, values nevertheless a more intellectual component in order to exercise sufficient competency in argumentation. In the Sexual E2, the incontestable argument is his emotion; things are determined because “I feel this way”. This is his assertiveness, based in his feeling more than thinking and that, in his impetuous disinhibition, brings him a false sense of security and the propensity to be able to obtain everything.

His understanding of reality is based more in the emotion than in an objective vision of the facts; emotion contaminates everything in the present moment, and in the name of emotion anything goes. He passionately identifies with emotion and is not interested in the logical world and in structured thought, which seem burdensome and arid to him.

The cognitive or intellectual capacity is devalued in all E2s. It is true that this trait is less present in the Social E2, who creates a self-image of a responsive, serious hyper-adult. The Conservation E2, identifying deeply with his basic needs, are the most interested in concrete actions to obtain what they need. The Sexual E2 feels more than he think, and values the emotional and sentimental world much more than the cognitive. This attitude finds its origin in the main defense mechanism: repression.

Competitive

The competitive field for the Sexual E2 is above all in sentimental relationships. His struggle to feel unique and unforgettable becomes concrete the moment a third person appears and has the potential to overshadow him. In this case he can turn to a passionate lovesick energy, even though it isn’t clear whether he is interested in the object or in the competition. He also doesn’t ask himself if he desires a lover or a friend, because his interest lies in beating the competitor in order to feel that he is the best in the eyes of anyone. He feels his passion, and believes it, but once he charges forward the prey might no longer have any value for him.

Unconventional

The gestures of the Sexual E2 are open, informal, and relaxed. He seems spontaneous and laidback, he feels at home everywhere and occupies a large space that he invades. He is unconventional in his characteristics, as much in his clothing as in his behavior, since he loves to break the mold, he wants to stand out from others at all costs. He is capable of doing in public things that others would only do privately, like taking off his shoes, putting his feet on the couch, showing a scar on a private body part, sleeping in the middle of a meeting, etc., regardless of social conventions. He wants to “do whatever I want, wherever I want, with whomever I want”. He is therefore a provoker, sweetened by his seductive strategies and by his fear of rejection.

Erotic Movements

The energy reaches the most distal parts of the body, giving the skin a warm and rosy appearance. The look, lively and bright, will denote the emotional state in which the person is, a trait that it shares with the rest of the rigid characters of the bioenergetic classification. Already more specific to E2 is the muscular armor in the form of "chain mail", a form of defense that it shares with the E7 Enneatype and that supposes a systematic and general rigidity. This "mesh", which is distributed just below the skin, at the level of the fasciae, is a very efficient mechanism for draining anguish, as it redistributes static energy throughout the body surface. In the old art of war, chain mail was a metallic armor made up of iron or steel rings intertwined with each other in such a way that the energy of any blow was dissipated between all the rings; in short, an effective formula to absorb bumps and minimize damage.

This efficient drainage makes the E2 and, especially, the sexual E2, rarely experience anguish. This is converted into soft and undulating movements, erotically charged and that often confuse the interlocutor, who receives a double message: on the one hand, of provocation; on the other hand, of not taking responsibility for the intentionality of the movement, which is removed from consciousness through the psychic defense mechanism of repression. Its erotic, seductive movement provokes sexual reactions when in reality this is not its function.

This sensual, undulating movement, provided by the muscular defense in "chain mail", allows a differential diagnosis to be established with other characters that do not have this representative agility and mobility.

Seemingly Loose Hips

Juanjo Albert affirms, speaking of the hysterical character (the Enneatype Two): “The defensive function of erotic pseudo-contact and genital sexuality is carried out through its specialization and training to detect the risk of commitment and emotional delivery, and withdraw immediately when that's how it happens." The most extreme form of an E2 sexual Enneatype gait is the spitting image of the vampire, whose seductiveness is conveyed not only by her sinuous and exaggerated movements but also through the tone of her voice, the emphasis of her phrasing, her captivating gaze, her voluptuousness expression, and the swaying of the hip, which suggests a promise of orgasm without guarantee.

This typical contouring, as well as the retracted position of the hip, could mean health and connection with sexuality, but in reality it does not. Two's "charged pelvis" is energetically ready to express its force through orgasm, but discharge movements are limited by its rigidity, with reduced anterior pelvic excursion.

Affectivity Disconnected From Sexuality

The apparent freedom and looseness of her hip hides the main conflict of this character. This movement is not fully connected to the chest, due to one of its main tensions, in the diaphragm. This is the most active muscle in breathing, so it is involved in the perception and expression of the emotional world. Responsible for increasing or decreasing the signal that is perceived in the chest, it favors or prevents the passage of impulses that come from both the abdomen and the hip, that is, from the world of needs or sexuality, respectively. In this character, the diaphragm is contracted enough that the energetic connection between the hips and the chest is compromised. The diaphragmatic contraction dissociates affections and needs, disconnects the emotional world of sexuality. We cannot speak of a diaphragmatic blockage in a character with emotional connection and expression, but we can speak of a tension that hinders the energetic passage.

Difficulty in Delivery

It can be affirmed, reading the tensions and blockages of the sexual E2 body, that there is a difficulty in deep loving surrender, and this is its most significant split.

As Lowen puts it, "Today's hysterical character does not refer to genital contact but to deep, loving feelings." That is why tantric practice, bioenergetics, integrative body therapy, psychodance or any other body technique whose objective is the union of the genital impulse with the love impulse have great healing potential for this character.

Cheerful

Compared to the other subtypes of the passion of pride, the sexual one presents a look of contentment and expansive joy. There it differs from the social E2, whose expression is less static, a little more serious and stiff, due to the feeling of importance that invades him. That same joy and smile of the sexual E2 are accompanied, in the conservation subtype, by a look and a boyish face, which often makes it seem younger than it is.

Big Spender

Money provides this character with crucial autonomy. Here too, the sexual E2 relies on his own resources: showing his economic needs humiliates him and his independence is more a gesture of pride than of inner freedom.

Economic resources are subordinated to emotional ones and to the need for intimate contact. The sexual E2 shows carelessness in saving or in the possession of goods. It may have to do with a basic arrogance and the need for immediate satisfaction in the intensity of the moment. He therefore tends to spend what he earns, but more on others than on himself.

Lack of care can lead to not managing money, not checking your accounts, not knowing how much you earn, or not repaying loans.

The power that the sexual E2 entrusts to money is, therefore, that of being at the service of significant relationships, to receive affection and admiration in return. The way to obtain them ranges from generously providing the children's decorations to giving wonderful gifts to the couple or friends, and in this way feel great and make the other feel that he is the center of her attention. He even puts his own survival at risk by following a romantic ideal of generosity, which prevails over any other consideration.

Due to the hunger for love, the sexual E2 experiences more pleasure in giving and spending than in retaining or possessing. For him, the pride of "giving" is an overcompensation for lack, for the painful feeling of worthlessness. This is what leads him to overreact. Under the mask of abundance, the counterpart of the miserable beggar is manifested through the ghost of the fall. It is precisely this opposite that leads to excessive self-sacrifice: if he does not feel he deserves love for himself, he makes sure that he at least deserves it for the services rendered.

Fear of Failure

In his relationship dynamic, where he is the one who gives and not the one who receives, the sexual E2 has a hard time imagining that someone could take care of him, if necessary. From his pride he can demand but not ask, since a refusal would do him a lot of damage. This, together with the need for freedom and autonomy, favors the ghost of failure, because he imagines that if he is not capable of giving, he will not have a place in the world, he will be alone.

Source: PDB Wiki

#personality theory #personality types #typology #enneagram #enneagram subtypes #instinctual variants #enneagram 2 #type 2 #2w1 #2w3 #sx2 #enfj #esfj #esfp

3 notes · View notes

crazygalore · 3 years

Text

GABRIEL MAY (MALIGNANT) NSFW ALPHABET

TW: mentions of dysmorphia, NSFW

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Surprisingly, Gabriel actually NEEDS it, after each lovemaking session - no matter how gentle or how rough he was with you. He’ll draw the both of you a hot bath, and help you wash yourself. If you return the favour, this boy will positively melt, and let out tiny noises that sound suspiciously similar to little purrs. Afterwards, once he has patted your dry with a fluffy towel and dressed you in your favourite pyjamas, Gabriel will carry you to bed, and place you under the covers. Then, he will bring your favourite snacks and beverage, to enjoy while you huddle together to watch a movie before falling asleep.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Gabriel could never pick just one thing he loves about you - because he practically worships you body and soul. You are infinitely beautiful in his eyes, and the fact that you love and accept him for who he is feels like a miracle to him.

Since he doesn’t actually have a body of his own, he expresses his identity though clothes that he wears, which are different than the ones owned by Madison. Although they’re not body parts per say, he sees his leather coat and makeshift gold dagger as extensions of himself, and he enjoys donning them whenever he takes over his twin’s body. He will, sometimes, remain fully clothed during sex.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

His pleasure is your pleasure, and he will make you cum as much as possible, if only to enjoy your desperate moans and whimpers.

Being transmasc and trapped his Madison’s body, he suffers from severe dysmorphia and doesn’t really enjoy being touched intimately. And, as stated HERE, he did communicate with his sister when the two of you decided to become intimate, because he felt like this specific situation called for his sister’s consent. She doesn’t have access to his memories regarding his sex life, though - which is for the best.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not a secret that he loves watching you pleasure yourself. The first time he witnessed it, you weren’t aware he was there, lost as you were in the act, so he quietly enjoyed the show from the door, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his mangled mouth.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

You are Gabriel’s first and only love, and the only person who ever saw him as a human being, worth of respect and adoration. So he doesn’t have that much experience, but he did his research and tried to learn as much as possible about the human body’s erogenous spots. That makes up for his lack of actual physical experience, at least most of the times. But since your guys’ relationship is based on trust, respect and communication, Gabriel is never ashamed to ask what works for you, and what doesn’t.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary, since he usually uses his mouth, fingers or a strap-on to pleasure you - and he wants to be able to look at your face, kiss your lips and hold you in his arms during sex. Gabriel is a very tactile person, and extremely touch-starved, so he actually NEEDS to be held, caressed and comforted. It’s the main reason why he enjoys making love to you so much, because the physical intimacy is something he’d never experienced before.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I wouldn’t say he’s particularly goofy, but he isn’t very stoic either. If anything awkward ensures during sex, he will try to make you laugh about it, so that you can relax and move on.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn’t actually have a private area of his own, and its pretty much Madison’s business as to how she grooms her nether region. He doesn’t actually care about those parts, since he never uses them.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Very intimate, very romantic and very needy. As stated above, he craves physical contact, and he melts whenever you treat him with gentleness and affection. Hold him, kiss him, caress his scarred cheeks, and tell him how good he makes you feel, and Gabriel will be putty in your hands.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t actually partake in this act, as he doesn’t enjoy looking at, or touching the private parts of the body he shares with his sister. But sometimes, he fantasizes about what he would do to you, if he had a body of his own.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Gabriel is surprisingly vanilla, but he can be pretty dominant in the bedroom. He will pin your wrists above your head, as he fucks you into the mattress, or guide you into touching yourself, his voice a mere growl coming from your phone’s speaker. Knife kink, maybe, but only when it comes to cutting off your clothes. He doesn’t wanna hurt you, so unless you insistently ask him to, Gabriel won’t hold his makeshift dagger to your throat, or drag its blade across your skin. After all, he has other ways to let out his violent frustrations, so he feels no need to bring that to the bedroom. He was hurt by people who abhorred him, and he returned the favour years later. Love and violence do not cross paths in Gabriel’s mind.

Also clothed sex, because he enjoys wearing his leather coat and gloves, as he teases your naked body mercilessly.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere inside the house, but the bedroom is his favourite, because it’s more private and safe. Plus, he enjoys taking his time, so the bed is the most comfortable option when it comes to lengthy lovemaking sessions.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Whenever you treat Gabriel with kindness and love, he will feel the need to bring you pleasure, and show you just how much he covets you. For him, sex is a means of expressing his affection for you - it’s an act of adoration and gratitude.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will NOT hurt you, ever, no matter how much you insist. You are the only person who has ever treated him right, and he cannot bear the thought of harming you in any way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Enjoys giving, and is very enthusiastic about it. This boy will eat you out for hours, and has become fucking expert at it. He knows just how to angle his face, and use his teeth and tongue to cause you maximum pleasure. Your taste is heaven to him, and your needy moans and whimpers are music to his ears. He will edge you, he will overstimulate you, he will play your body like a violin, using his mouth and fingers alone.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the mood. Slow and sensual is his go to, but he can be rough if you ask him to. But regardless of the pace, Gabriel is ALWAYS very passionate, and completely dedicated to your pleasure. Also, this boy is inhumanly strong, so he may end up becoming rough without even realizing it - but in case it becomes too much, all you have to do is tell him, and Gabriel will apologise and treat you more gently.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not opposed to them, but he prefers taking his time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s willing to try anything, so long as it doesn’t cause you any actual harm. Hickeys and faint finger-shaped bruises happen a lot, since he doesn’t always calibrate his strength properly all the time.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Oh, he could go on forever. Remember he experiences pleasure exclusively through you, so he never gets tired of it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Oh, yes, 100% a fan of toys, all of them meant to drive you utterly insane with pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The most unfair and maddeningly patient tease to ever walk this Earth. He will edge you until you’re crying and begging for release - and only then will he CONSIDER to maybe let you cum.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Low growls and muffled moans are the best he can do - although he may use your phone’s speaker to talk dirty to you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Gabriel really enjoys sucking on and playing with your nipples. And, yes, he has actually made you cum by solely teasing and fondling your chest.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

As I said, he uses a strap-on, which is just the right length and thickness to bring you maximum pleasure. In fact, the more I think about it, the more inclined I am to believe he consulted with you before buying it.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I would say his sex drive is medium to low, so unless you initiate it - case in which he will be delighted to take you to the bedroom - he will rarely bring it up. But he does have his moments, when he simply craves your passionate embrace.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends. Sometimes he falls asleep as soon as aftercare has been performed, and sometimes he stays awake a little while longer, just to watch you sleep peacefully by his side.

#malignant #gabriel may #gabriel may x reader #malignant imagine #gabriel may imagine #malignant x reader #gabriel may headcanons #malignant headcanons #tw dysmorphia

251 notes · View notes

liketheinferno2 · 3 years

Text

NIER:AUTOMATA OBSERVATIONS RE: PENETRATION SYMBOLISM AND VIOLENCE AS SEX

- Here we have a lot of characters who cannot die but may very well be “killed” over and over again. This is in combination with a lot of characters taught not to express their feelings, or who through extraordinary circumstances are just not allowed to have intimate relationships.

- Then you have the fact that the violence in NieR:Automata is itself intimate, there are no impersonal weapons; it requires these people get really close to each other, straddle or just hold onto each other to do the violence, it’s all very charged.

- Result: sometimes being killed is the most skin-to-skin touch someone has experienced. Sometimes it’s the closest thing to sex someone has experienced. This is not lost on the writing itself:

- 9S notes the warmth and touch and direct connection much more than he notes “this hurts and I’m dying” and this thing where someone will see the confusingly pleasurable side of the murder that’s being done to them also happens with Adam who notes that he’s enjoying it?? Kind of?? when 2B is attacking him, and hugs her desperately during the killing blow.

- But it’s not a nonsensical sadomasochism for crazy villain vs sexy battle girl points either, because 2B herself doesn’t derive any pleasure from this kind of thing and it becomes increasingly clear that the people who do are only feeling this way because of some formative pseudosexual experience in combination with 0 other avenues for physical touch-interaction.

- Adam gets run through on 2B and 9S’ swords as one of his first conscious experiences (which directly leads to a birth later so um lol :thisisfine:) and for the rest of the game you watch him peel off distantly from his brother-son and fuss over whether love is hate and life is death, but there’s this implicit other thing – he’s a very violent character and he’s also a weirdly sexual character. And these are very much mashed together. It’s like he’s got all these feelings without any direction or outlet for them.

- It’s strange for a machine to know enough about desire that he can tease 9S about his troublesome sexual feelings, but it’s even stranger for 9S to respond to these accusations of being horny-and-hateful with “I’m not like you.” [knows you're like this because i know you know i'm like this which you would only know by being like this]

- You’re thinking about how much you want to [fuck|kill] 2B, aren’t you?

- (Lol oh god now I’m thinking about how many times an impalement/dramatic penetration lead to a birth or a rebirth immediately after HELP ME!!)

- But Adam’s just the fakeout villain, all of this is interesting on its own but it’s really setting the stage for how all this sex-as-love and love-as-violence and violence-as-sex complicates 2B and 9S’ relationship.

- Having said that I would like to replay route C before I really get into the second half of this but I find it interesting that the person who enjoys this the LEAST is 2B, even though (or because of the fact that) it’s expected and demanded of her to interact with people in this way, even though she’s not the one actually physically harmed by it. Hrm.

- I also note that 9S gets possessive of the act itself later on, there’s that thing about “The only one allowed to destroy 2B is me” but it’s just as equally “The only one allowed to destroy me is 2B” as he struggles through the ending parts that feel like they should be ripping him apart at the seams but literally does not stop until he feels 2B’s sword inside him again.

- Also his experiences with this were formative in their relationship as well, it’s just that he can’t consciously remember it. Doesn’t mean it’s not affecting how they interact. Early in the game you meet an android who has trauma to her balance systems that no physical repairs or replacements can fix, “it’s almost like it’s in her mind” – same deal here.

-It’s not just the closest to intimacy he got with 2B this time, it’s all the times, repeatedly, and it’s impressed on him. Part of why even in the early game he will THROW himself in awful harm’s way for her sake.

This post is incomplete but as an aside I really like how, yeah, 2B is the aggressor in a lot of these situations but it’s in a way where it’s something she’s forced to do… there’s no dynamic of abuse here, it’s a mutual tragedy where it really shouldn’t have to be this bad, but the society they live in and the roles they are assigned demand they interact in violent ways.

You as a player can see outs or wish that they weren’t hurting each other but here, it’s a most basic form of interaction and they’re very, very deep in the cycle of repeating it. Begs the question of how much hostility with other people, and fighting through regular interactions, is instinctual or enforced in your real life, doesn't it?

#blood /#meta #nier liveblog #let him speak #spoilers

70 notes · View notes

pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

Text

Salvation, Damnation

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Heahmund&Reader (brother/sister relationship)

Summary: “Where the reader is Heahmund's sister (or some kind of close relative) and she ends up meeting Ivar, but while Heahmund's always seen her as quiet, shy and insecure, she finds Ivar attractive and starts hitting on him and openly flirting with him in front of any and everyone. Ivar notices that it bothers Heahmund, so he flirts with her back until they end up spending 1 on 1 time with each other (something cute and romantic) and he starts to genuinely like her.”

I am so sorry anon if I dissapointed you, this story got away from me.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Mentions of violence and death, nothing major. My awful attempt at masking my dislike for Heahmund. Horrible, horrible attempts at writing sexual tension. Subtle (and not so subtle) D/s dynamics. Implied sex. Implied bondage, and knife/blood kink. Nothing exactly explicit, but still.

A/N: I really need to put my foot down and write a meek reader character at some point, they always turn out being crazy or annoying little shits. Or both.

Also, alternate title to this: two switches try to out-dom one another for 3k words. Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss

Heahmund paces in front of you, head low and hand gripping tightly at his cross.

“You will be sent to Kent, I have friends there that can-…”

“No, I will not leave you.” You argue, to which your brother replies only with a sigh.

“I want you safe.”

“I will be safe with you, not surrounded by old men and priests somewhere in Engl-...”

“Can’t you see we are surrounded by enemies!?” Heahmund’s voice doesn’t rise, but it still makes you tremble, “We can’t afford to stay together.”

“Then why make that Viking take me from Lindsey? You put me in his grasp.”

“Lindsey won’t hold under English control for long,” He promises, voice almost a whisper though you can still hear the anger, the impotence, the fear bubbling beneath “It is too close to York. You’ve seen their army, they’ll…they’ll crush them all.”

“And yet you fight for them, for pagans.”

“I don’t have a choice,” His hands are warm on your arms, “But you do. I have to send you to Kent, I have to keep you alive.”

“Why would they kill me?”

“Punishment for a failure, maybe. Ivar knows he needs only to threaten your life to have me do his bidding.”

“And you think he’ll allow you to ship me away? The one thing that keeps you on a leash?” You shake your head, “Brother, this is madness.”

“I don’t care if he allows it,” Heahmund sentences, voice grave and certain. “Whatever punishment befalls on me, I shall endure.”

You shake your head again, and you want to fight back, argue, but you know that dead look in his eyes, you know that deadly stillness, that terrifying certainty.

And so you lower your eyes, and accept his words with a nod of your head.

He needn’t know you retrace each and every one of his steps, and undo his plans for sending you off to England. You will die before leaving your brother alone at the mercy of these heathens.

____

“Does your sister know how to play?” The Viking asks, moving a wooden piece on the board. Without missing a beat, he adds, “Or are nuns not allowed to learn chess?”

“She’s not a-…” Heahmund closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “She does.”

The Viking looks down at the board, and his expression twists into a mix of surprise and disapproval at your brother’s move.

“Hopefully better than you,” And it seems answering a question about you, acknowledging your presence, was a wrong move on your brother’s part. “Does she have a tongue?”

You keep your eyes on the pale ones of the youngest son of Ragnar.

“I do.” You reply slowly. The Viking only seems to grow more delighted with this little game of his.

“And you know who I am, don’t you, little dove?”

“There are more fun ways to make me say your name, you know.” You quip, and not even a thousand years of teachings of chastity and restraint could keep you from smiling when the Viking’s eyes widen, right before he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, looking…hungry.

The youngest son of Ragnar stands, using the table and then the crutch at his side to stand tall and walk towards you.

When your brother growls his name in warning, Ivar only laughs darkly, and continues approaching you until he towers over you, eyes dark and set on you.

“What would those ways be, little dove?” He reaches down, and hooks one finger on the rosary bracelet you wear, tugging on it and reminding you strikingly of bindings.

“Hands-on practice is much more…rewarding than lessons.”

“Hmm,” The Viking muses, eyes studying you with an intensity that should make you uncomfortable. He doesn’t release his hold on the rosary on your wrist, for a moment tugging on it harder and making it tighten on your skin like rope. He chuckles, “I like you. You are…interesting, for a Christian.”

“And you are…intriguing, for a Viking.”

Ivar the Boneless only huffs a laugh, but there’s still a spark of excitement in his gaze, of pride, of satisfaction.

He turns his head to the side, and addresses your brother, ordering him to leave.

Heahmund hesitates, of course he does, and his hand goes to the handle of his sword at his side. You hold your breath.

But after a moment, with the restrained anger of a dog brought to heel, the threat that he might take these Vikings and this kingdom down single-handedly if you are to come to harm written in his dark eyes; your brother takes his leave.

The Viking’s hand closes around your throat, and you only stare back at him with wide eyes as he corners you towards the wall. He is so close to you, with each breath you take you feel his armor against your own chest, you can discern every speck of blue in his eyes.

“What game are you playing?” He snarls, but you cannot find the words, your heart beating wildly in your chest and the blood in your veins singing with fear and something else. “Answer me!”

“I am not playing anything!”

“I don’t believe you,” He snarls without hesitation, lips curved into what looks like a beast threatening to attack. The hand on your neck moves up, cupping your jaw roughly and moving your head to the side. You feel his breath on your neck as he speaks again, quieter, “I don’t like being lied to.”

“I am not lying, you brute. Now get your hand off me.”

“Or what?”

Your eyes widen, but something in your blood sings at his defiance, something in his blue eyes as he dares you makes your heart quicken.

“What?”

“You heard me, little dove. What will you do, if I don’t do as you say?”

You are pushed against a wall in some Viking kingdom, with the most feared Viking alive holding you by the throat, and yet you smile at him.

You reach up with your hand, and, the same way he did earlier to you, you hook a finger on the metal arm-ring on his wrist, and tug, hard enough he feels the strain of the makeshift binding.

“Why don’t you do as I say?” You prompt sweetly, “I prefer rewarding to punishing, I have too soft a heart.”

Ivar’s lips part at your words, and naked want is written in his face. It is barely a moment, where the mask slips, the game grants you a victory, and you see him feeling the siren call of giving in.

Still, slowly his lips curve into a sinister smile, and he leans even closer.

“I don’t.” He promises by your ear, what you could swear is the scrap of teeth against the shell of your ear before he lets you go.

You stay there, back against the wall, trying to regain your breath, regain your control, as you watch him walk out of the room.

It is an easy, fun game to play, this push and pull you engage on with the Viking. Circling one another over and over, taunting one another, testing one another; waiting for the other to pounce or retreat.

You know on your end there’s more than pretense and empty words, and you dare think on his end it’s the same.

It is fun, and thrilling and liberating; and you soon find yourself enthralled by the Viking and his captivating voice, his depthless eyes that give so much away.

You know it is wrong, you know it is sinful and awful, you know no Christian would speak, wish, dream, of such things, much less with a heathen of all men.

But, at the end, you were never a very good Christian.

And so, much to your brother’s horror, you grow closer and closer to the Viking. In between the games you both play, in between the taunts and the defiance, grows what you dare call a comfortable intimacy, an understanding of one another.

It doesn’t hurt your cause that Heahmund cannot even dream of taking you right from under Ivar’s nose now, send you off to England so you can be safe, but alone.

____

A sharp tug on the rosary on your wrist draws your attention to Ivar, and you turn to him with questions written in your eyes.

“We will sail for Vestfold in two days,” He tells you, smiling slightly when you make a point of wrenching your wrist, your bracelet, from his grasp. “Will you be coming with us?”

“Are you asking me to?”

“If I were, what would you say?”

You offer only a smile, partly exasperated and partly enthralled.

Heahmund stands up from his place in the table in front of you, and with a grunt of your name stalks away, to a place of relative privacy. You notice Ivar’s eyes following your brother’s retreating back with what strikes you as suspicion, as disdain, and so you hurry to follow Heahmund.

He runs a hand through short dark hair, and shakes his head as if to try and dispel himself of his anger.

“What on God’s name are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything,” You reply innocently, before your eyes find those of the son of Ragnar across the room. A thrill runs through your spine when you find he was already looking at you. “He is rather handsome, isn’t he?”

“Are you mad!?” Heahmund says lowly, in that way of his of yelling at you with a whisper. His brows furrow, “My sweet sister wo-…”

“Your sweet sister refuses to be shipped off to England, Heahmund,” You finish for him, “I would have believed you knew better than to expect me to leave you behind.”

“You put yourself at the mercy of Ivar the Boneless! That monster has none!”

You hear the Viking call your name from across the room, and even if you didn’t have a point to prove, you know you’d answer the call.

“I bought us -you- time, if anything.” You tell your brother, before you go off to sit at Ivar’s side.

____

The Viking King he takes you to meet -Harald, you remind yourself- is a strange character. A man that makes a strange thrill of disgust and fear run down your spine.

You don’t miss the implication of Ivar’s display. While your brother is brought in chains and forced to kneel at Harald’s feet, you remain standing at the Viking’s side, Ivar’s hold on the rosary bracelet you wear for once not the promise of thrill, of lust, but a silent oath of protection.

You awaken in the dead of night to the soft sound of knuckles rasping against your door. You hold on tight to the dagger in your hand, even though you know if any of these men wanted you dead you would be so.

Ivar stands at the other side of it, and it steals the breath from your lungs, the words from your lips.

Still, you let him in, and watch with wide eyes as he takes a seat on a low settee near your bed.

“Doesn’t it scare you? To be all alone with a heathen?”

You shrug, and find your voice again,

“If I were to fear, it would be for being all alone with a murderer, with a warrior. Not a pagan.”

“And why is that?”

You study him in silence for a few moments, before offering, “I am not my brother, I don’t share his…conviction.”

“His faith.”

“His fervor,” You correct, before sighing, “Maybe it will damn me for eternity, but…I ought to fear you, to hate you, for the things you have done and the things you will do, not the Gods you follow.”

“And do you?” The Viking asks, and your eyes narrow at his question. After a breath, eyes searching yours, he presses, “Hate me.”

“You care about some nun’s scorn?”

“You definitely aren’t a nun,” He offers, the hint of an amused smile on his lips, “And you are…fascinating, I’d like to know if you despise me.”

“I don’t,” At his strange expression, you press, “You’re disappointed?”

Ivar shrugs, head moving side to side as his mouth curves downwards, indecisive.

“I don’t know. There is something to be said about a poor Christian nun at the hands of a Viking; fearing, fighting, resisting.”

His words, the images they conjure up in your head, make a thrill run down your spine, a rush of heat settle low on your stomach. You lick your lips, and because you cannot help yourself, you offer a counteroffer,

“There’s also something to be said about a Viking at the mercy of a wayward Christian. Makes one wonder what it takes to have him…cave, obey, beg.”

Ivar laughs, shaking his head, “I’d like to see you try, little dove.”

There’s no mistaking the darkening of his gaze, the quickened breaths, the hunger in his expression, though. He wants it as much as you do, he craves control as much as he craves surrendering it.

You cross your legs and try focusing on the matter at hand.

“But you didn’t come here to talk…hypotheticals, did you?”

Ivar sobers, and you could swear he grits his teeth as he toys with the crutch on his hand.

“Harald promised us support. We will march for Kattegat soon.”

“I don’t have my brother’s strategic mind, I’m afraid,” You offer when he stays quiet. “I fear I won’t be of much help.”

“Lagertha could be dead, in a matter of weeks. I could…I could finally kill her.” He confesses, eyes falling from yours, and there’s the clear tell of anger in his expression. Anger at what you are sure he considers weakness, anger at having you be a witness to it.

“That is what you want, is it not?”

“To you Christians…my people are monsters, are we not?”

“You honor your Gods with blood, you value death over life, you pillage and burn and conquer. Of course my countrymen think that, of course they fear you.”

“Do you think I’m a monster, little dove?” Ivar asks you, taking you aback. If you weren’t so used to him, if you weren’t so familiar with the tones of his voice, with the subtle tells in his expression; you’d think he’s daring you.

You wouldn’t have believed, months ago, when he barged into Lindsey with an army at his back trying to find Bishop Heahmund’s sister, that one day you’d be sitting on front of Ivar the Boneless and see his eyes shining with hesitation, with vulnerability, with fear.

The answer you can offer is a smile, and a shake of your head. The answer he demands is the bruising kiss he presses against your lips, is the breath he steals from your lungs.

____

For all the ruckus planning a battle implies, for all the chaos that comes before a siege, for all the months of war talks and battle plans; the battle for Kattegat sneaks up on you.

On your happiness. On your sin.

Ivar presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, eyeing the marks of rope on your skin with careful eyes. You only watch him, sated and tranquil and at peace; letting him make inventory of the marks, of the evidence of your surrender.

“Tomorrow we will march,” He tells you quietly, rough fingers still circling your wrist delicately. “Kattegat could be mine in days.”

You hum an agreement, and stretch. Because you cannot help it, you burrow into him, your face hidden at the crook of his neck, and trace your own marks on his skin, the evidence of his surrender.

The faint cuts of a knife are still visible in his chest, and when you trace your fingers over them, Ivar shudders. You smile.

“Ivar the Boneless,” You whisper against his skin, before you give in and press a soft kiss over a darkening bite mark on his shoulder. “King of Kattegat.”

He huffs a breath that could have been an amused chuckle.

“When it is all done, I…I will send your brother to York.”

Your heart drops to your stomach, and your breath shudders past your lips.

“York?”

“To defend us from some Danes that threaten it with capture. He won’t fight Christians, you have my word.

But that isn’t what made you freeze under his touch, and he knows it. Ivar swallows, and returns his gaze to the ceiling.

His hand tightens on your wrist, before he takes a deep breath.

“I want you to stay with me,” He confesses, not looking at you. “I want you at my side, I…I want to make you Queen of Kattegat.”

Your eyes widen, and you lean back, even though he doesn’t release your wrist.

“Ivar…”

“I’ll release Heahmund from his vow, he will be free, and safe. You…if you want, we can marry before your God after we marry before mine,” He promises, rushed and anxious. You realize he’s giving you reasons to say yes, as if you didn’t have enough of those written in his gaze, in his burning touch, in the marks that litter both your bodies. “I-…

You lean in, and kiss him. It has always been surprisingly useful in getting him to stop thinking, to stop talking; and you realize when he presses back against your lips with a soft sound, when his hand tangles in your hair and he brings you closer, that it continues to be so.

When you part, his eyes open slowly, and when they meet yours you see in them that emotion neither of you has been brave enough to admit yet.

“Marry me.” He whispers.

You press your brow to his with a breathed laugh, happy and mad and warm.

“Yes,” You reply, voice hushed, eyes shining. You steal a kiss from his lips, and another one when he continues to stare up at you, surprise and awe and hope written in his pale eyes. “I love you, Ivar.”

His eyes search yours, looking for the lie, for the mirage. When he finds none, Ivar smiles, wide and hopeful and happy.

“I love you, little dove.”

That night, he promises his love between fervent kisses, brands it against your skin in the mark of his fingers on your hips. That night, he demands your love with whispers of your name, steals it from your lungs in the air he robs you of with skillful fingers and tongue.

____

Soooooo, whaddya think?

Ik I need to write smut at some point, but I’m too much of a coward atm. At some point I will, and mark my words, I will return to this one shot.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it!! Love you!

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar

218 notes · View notes

pen-observing · 3 years

Note

call me a basic bitch for choosing that poem but: "i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)" from e. e. cummings and because i'm looking at your avater maybe with barbatos pretty please? tysm if you end up doing it 💜

Barbatos lives his life in a mystical way. He is a being with an existence shrouded in unknown origins, unknown plans and looked at through mist eyes. Everyone wants to know more about such an enigmatic figure which brings fear even with a serene face. What goes on below the surface? What lies deep down at the bottom of his soul?

It is fools who wonder such things for the longest time- that is what Barbatos thinks while gently tending to the garden. They try to pick apart his essence without recognizing it, they try to find his meaning in the worst places. Barbatos is not just violence that they focus on. His being does not live in violent moments. Barbatos is compassion. Barbatos is silent, but not unnoticeable, care.

Barbatos does not hide his love; others just tend to be ignorant to the way he expresses it. They should blame themselves for having misconceptions. It is obviously clear that his gaze lingers on you; it is obvious that Barbatos carries you with himself constantly. The rest of the world including all the three realms might not notice, it is rightful that Barbatos calls them foolish.

But you do. You know. That is all that matters.

You recognize his care by the scent of tea which you wake to. You know Barbatos cannot stay because of his obligations but you are still with him, no matter which direction his footsteps echo in.

The violet paper with elegant handwriting next to the cup is enough proof. His name signed under a note that reads: “I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart).” is a living testament fools would die for.

Barbatos looks at the flowers and thinks of your beauty. When he takes his gloves off to cook, he remembers just how soft your hands are; how warmly they embrace him. Your flaming spirit of righteousness is right next to him as he decides to forgive, for the first time, a small blunder a greedy Little D engaged in just because he remembers that you called it 'cute' one time.

Those truly idiotic sometimes ask him why he still holds utmost loyalty for Diavolo. They say his powers are capable of overthrowing the man he calls his lord. The answer is you, once again. His loyalty is to you as well. Why would he try to become a ruler of the Devildom when his world is you? Barbatos does not want to rule, he wants to exist with you in equality.

He holds time in his hands, he toys with it when asked but he never questions his own fate. He knows, his soul decided – his fate is you, it is with you. You often compare him to the moon and he always wonders how you do not realize that, because of reflection, both his moon and his sun hide within you.

Barbatos does not keep it secret yet others still continue to wonder. When he comes to you and your presence welcomes him in familiarity and true intimacy, that only two beings which live and love in honestly can possess; he remembers, once again, just how much of you is always with him.

You could never be basic how dare you even assume that?! E.e. Cummings has a special place in my heart because I once did a quizz like 'what poem are you' and got one of his. I love this poem too and i had to write this two times cus Tumblr deleted my first version. Thank you for the request, you brilliant star!

#Obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos X reader #shall we date obey me #obey me imagines #am I once again pushing Barbatos moon agenda lmao ofc I am what did you expect #rewriting this was so hard #THANK YOU FOR HAVING FAITH IN ME TO REQUEST SUCH A BEAUTIFUL POEM #low-key Barbatos is my fav but I am scared to write for him

128 notes · View notes

im-the-punk-who · 4 years

Note

Hi! I’m new to the fandom and I’m simply curious (not trying to start a feud or anything), why don’t you like Steinberg?

Hello dear anon! And welcome to the fandom!

Oof. That’s a question. xD

I’m going to try and stay as uh. neutral as possible. Because I’ve already written the post I know I failed but, the intent in answering this is also not to start a feud or hurt anyone’s feelings.

Okay, so I got fairly negative in this chilis tonight, so I want to start by saying that even in light of the opinions I’m about to express, Black Sails is one of, if not my number one, favorite TV shows of all time. Certainly in recent memory - I’ve been hyperfixating on this show for 18 months with no sign of stopping, and I have a tremendous amount of respect for everyone who worked on the show - even Steinberg. (The one exclusion is Michael Bay, he can go twist.)

AND I think Stienberg is an incredibly talented writer. Black Sails is one of my favorite shows because it does such a wonderful job of weaving stories, creating characters, and melding things in a way that is both unexpected and makes sense narratively. I have changed as a person because of the show, and they will have to pry James McGraw and Thomas Hamilton from my cold dead knives-attached-to-them hands. None of what I’m going to say is meant to detract from that.

I will also say that a lot of these issues are not particular to Steinberg and are in fact a systemic problem with American TV + Film. And I’m not leaving Robert Levine out of my criticism, it’s just that Steinberg had the biggest hand in the pot(he wrote a full half the episodes) and a lot of what I’ve heard as far as talking about the show comes from Steinberg. So, he gets the brunt. But it isn’t that I think Steinberg was the only problematic element of the show.

Also, these are all my opinions and are colored by how I interact with my fandoms. I am not only a fandom veteran, but I work and pretty much live in the entertainment industry. I work in indie film and theatre and am surrounded by artists and creators of all walks of life, like, constantly. I know what is possible, and when I see something that can be improved, I want to note it because it is important to me to always be striving forward. Like Miranda says about Thomas, this isn’t out of malice, or out of hate. It’s because I genuinely love this show, and I love entertainment as a whole, and I think in order to get to a better, more inclusive industry we have to have hard conversations and look critically at the media we consume, and it is frustrating to me to time and again see the same faces in the room.

But if that isn’t your cuppa, that’s fine! Fandom isn’t meant to be stressful and if all you want to do is watch a show about gay pirates that is your tomato and I applaud you. Have at it you funky motherfucker.

OH! One more. At some point I’m going to talk about Silverflint. When I do, it is NOT meant as a ‘you shouldn’t/cant ship this’ or ‘this pairing is bad’ or any negative attack on the people who ship that pairing. My criticisms in this post are exclusively about what it means for Steinberg as a writer and Black Sails’ representation of gay and mlm men. While it’s not my cuppa, this is a sail your own ship blog.

OKAY! SO!

My main criticisms of Steinberg & Co boil down to:

The homozygosity of the writers and directors shows a complete lack of desire to include marginalized people in the writing of a show that is about them. Which leads to:

The centering of white men while choosing a historical setting and time period that was in fact dominated by people of color and specifically a black woman,

The gratuitous inclusion of violence against women, particularly sexual violence, and again, that the female characters are often sidelined for the central male characters.

SO.

Black Sails is a show centered around queer, female, and black leads, and yet there were only two non white-male directors (one bi-racial man and one white woman) and only 7 female writers - one of whom was Latina. The entire rest of the major creative staff was white men. I’m not going to comment on sexualities but none of the writers or directors are out as queer according to a quick google search.

Let me reiterate the important bit there.

In Black Sails, where the last two seasons specifically feature around a real, actually-happened-in-history event that shaped black history in the Caribbean, there was not a single black writer on the entire show.

This is the main difference between inclusion for inclusion’s sake, and actually centering marginalized voices. Black Sails has a ton of gay, POC, and female rep in front of the camera but practically zero representation behind it, which leads to storylines and implications that Steinberg and his writers, as white men, simply would never realize.

It’s like why Silver and Miranda never realized the true reasons James was waging war on England. They just did not have the life experiences to realize they were missing a piece of the puzzle, and so they filled in their own without even realizing they’d done so.

Because no one in the room of Black Sails was a part of these marginalized identities, nuances get lost or mistranslated, motivations get muddled through a white man’s gaze(or a straight person’s) and implications that someone within those communities might think is obvious won’t even come up.

And again, because there were no writers or directors of color in the last two seasons (the biracial man directed episodes 2x02 and 2x04 - WHICH MAKES SENSE IMO) the entirety of the historical lore that the show bases itself on in its latter half is filtered through a white man’s lens. And so there is no discussion of how changing something changes the meaning, how leaving someone out or changing their role to be more minor might affect people for whom that is their heritage. How the entire story they’re telling might change with one simple exclusion or addition.

So, how does this relate directly to Steinberg, you ask? Well, simply, because it was his show.

Steinberg(and Levine) were involved in every major decision about the show, from its conception, to the script, to choosing the writers and directors. They chose how they wanted the show to look, to think, what stories to tell and how they wanted to tell them. Their decisions(and the biases that formed those decisions) are woven into the show.

And look. I don’t for a second believe any of this was willful or malicious. I don’t think that John Steinberg and Robert Levine sat down one day and said ‘you know what would make the gays really angry? If we locked the only two canonically gay men up in a prison camp.’

But the decisions that were made in the show were based in ignorance in a way that shows more than just simple negligence or laziness(especially given the attention to detail in everything else). The things they leave out or change in the Maroon War plotline for instance are not small details easily missed. They are big, giant waving flags. They are things that are irreplaceable to still have the same events and stories and tell them respectfully.

It shows an insane amount of privilege to, for instance, write a show airing during a time when the Black Lives Matter movement was at the forefront of the American conscience, include black characters and black storylines, and yet not include a single black voice on their creative team.

In a show that centers a gay man’s love and his journey in attempting to process the horrible things done to him and his lover because of it, we are given just forty minutes of the entire show dedicated to their relationship - and just fifteen of those minutes actually feature the lover!

(Relatedly, the entirety of the gay romantic rep is two kisses, and a forehead touch. That’s the entirety of your gay intimacy representation. And yet there are in the first two seasons alone - because that’s all I’ve clocked so far - something like twenty seven minutes of scenes involving a naked or half naked woman. Five minutes of that is explicitly wlw sex.

Again, I just want to reiterate this because it’s important in recognizing bias.

There is fully twice as much female nudity in the first two seasons, as the entirety of the time the two gay characters have together on screen. )

Steinberg is a perfect example of how a lack of understanding why the diversity you are representing is important, matters. I dislike Steinberg because he, just like every other straight white cis man I have known, profited off of marginalized voices without including them or creating with them in mind.

Art does not exist in a vacuum. You cannot create something - especially something as back breakingly, intensely a labor of love as Black Sails - without putting several pieces of yourself into it. But those pieces color your narrative. They will expose things about you that you don’t even realize. And it’s in these places we are weakest, and why a diverse group of writers with a diverse group of experiences can help a piece be stronger. But for whatever reason, John Steinberg thought that he could make art with only people who looked and thought and experienced like him.

The lack of representation behind the camera in Black Sails was evident in front of it and yet Steinberg is out here getting to pretend like he created the most inclusive groundbreaking show that ever existed. It is important to me, personally, to acknowledge that. And that it kind of makes my skin crawl in the way all media made by straight white (cis)men makes my skin crawl. I wish I didn’t have to feel that way about my favorite tv show just because it was created by a man of privilege, but here we are.

SO. I hope that helped? Feel free to take what you want and leave what you don’t!

Below the cut is a more in depth look at things that I think show what I’m talking about, but that up there ^^ is the gist. <3 |D

SURPRISE!

The Maroons and the Maroon War

So the first thing I want to point out is that the Maroon War was a real thing that happened. It lasted ten years, and resulted in the most substantial victory the Maroons ever achieved against the British. Not only that, there was in fact a KICKIN’ badass female leader of the maroons named Queen Nanny, who is to this day honored as a national hero in Jamaica. While they weren’t able to drive the British out, the outcome of this war led to a mostly self-governing Maroon population in Jamaica from the mid 1700s on. This was a long term fight that had a very tangible and real outcome, even if it didn’t end in the destruction of colonialism.

And what is this war turned into in Black Sails? A white ‘madman’s revenge’ that is doomed to failure after six months.

That, my dear pirates, is a problem for me. (And those familiar with my brand of spiceyness know that I do not ascribe to the ‘Flint is a Madman’ trope, but that IS what Steinberg ascribes to, what he seems to have written the show thinking.)

There was no narrative reason to include the Maroon War in the narrative of Black Sails. The Maroon War didn’t happen until a decade after the Golden Age of Piracy, and aside from Silver’s wife being a black woman there is no mention of Silver ever having contact with them. To me, this feels like the choice of a showrunner who found a cool historical event and saw a chance to up the stakes of their white male heroes while getting in some sweet sweet POC rep.

Except that they then took the major events of the Maroon War and gave them to their white characters, Flint and Silver.

Here’s the thing. If you’re going to take a piece of culturally important history and use it for your show, you NEED to have sensitivity writers. You need to have people who are at least familiar with those events and who care about them to do them justice. Have an expert come in and read your script or go over your ideas. Or just like. Hire a black writer. Hire ONE black writer. As a treat.

The important Maroon figures, Nanny, Cudjoe, and Quao, all get sidelined or ‘sexified’ and then used as plot points for the white characters. Nanny gets split into two women - the older mother queen and Madi, the young naive warbent visionary. Quao(Mr. Scott is the closest, or Kofi possibly) gets killed off because the writers realized they didn’t exactly have a place for him in their writing. Cudjoe(Julius) gets a few scenes and one good speech but his entire role in the war gets given to Silver. And THEN. That sexy Queen Madi figure gets used as emotional bait for Silver and then has to learn he has betrayed her and destroyed the hope and freedom she had wanted to bring to her people.

Gross, pirates. Gross.

Anne Bonny/Max/Mary Read - a heads up, this section includes a semi in-depth discussion of both Max and Anne’s sexual assaults. If that bothers you, the paragraphs talking about that begin with a ***

COOL NOW LET’S TALK ABOUT LESBIANS. Words my 20 year old self would never have imagined coming out of my mouth.

Specifically, I want to talk about Max, and Anne, and their backstories both involving extreme sexual trauma at the hands of men. And then Mary Read and the once again sexification of female characters.

(Actually while I’m here another criticism I have of Steinberg is that his writing does not seem to recognize how queer people existed in the past - again, likely because he didn’t have any gay historians to be like ‘actually buddy that doesn’t make sense also why is Anne not dressing as a man? If you want to fuck with anything and insert modern day terminology and ideas into this show, make her non binary and REALLY piss off the hetties.’)

(This same ficitonal gay dramaturg who is definitely not me has also questioned John Steinberg repeatedly about where Mary Read is, unsatisfied with the answer ‘well we wanted her to be hot so we made her a sex worker and then had Anne have to rescue her but then we realized it would be weird not to include her actual character so we gave her a five second cameo at the very end of the series and also made her like 13.’)

Anyway! So my main point in bringing up Anne and Max is the sexual trauma they are exposed to in the show, particularly being that they are the two primary wlw in the show, who Steinberg has said he views as being completely gay, and what THAT whole unexamined idea looks like.

***Max. My dear Max. There was literally no reason to have her be repeatedly r*ped(and for the love of god there was even less reason to make it that gratuitous and graphic). Max being assaulted like that did not add anything to the gravity of Eleanor’s betrayal. The traumatic event was being tossed aside by Eleanor, and that could have been just as emotionally damaging without the sexual assault. And the only reason for her to be continually assaulted was to bring her and Anne together.

***The reason imo that Max’s r*pe plot was added was because it was the only thing these white straight men could come up with that felt emotionally damaging enough to them. The act of betrayal itself wasn’t enough, the act of being thrown away, of having a lover put your life in danger because of her own ambitions wasn’t enough, they needed her to be r*ped to really drive home the point.

***Anne, on the other hand, is never shown being sexually abused, but we are given an explicit account of her own traumatic history and how Jack saved her from this vile beast who was passing her around to his friends.

But here’s the thing pirates - that never happened. According to every account we have of Anne Bonny, she chose her husband, and married him against her father’s wishes. They were probably relatively happy until her husband started being a pirate spy and Anne started cheating on him with Jack.

And yes, when they were found out. Her husband had her beat. That’s not fucking cool, and if they really wanted to go the damsel in distress route they still could have had Jack ‘save’ her from that. But at no point was she sexually abused by her husband(at least not in any accounts I’ve read.)

You know who did likely sexually abuse her or at least manipulate her and Mary for his own benefit? If you guessed our Rat man Jack Rackham, you would be correct, because when he found out about Mary and Anne’s (supposed, but probably real) relationship, it’s implied he extorted both of them into fucking him to keep their secret from the crew.

The addition of sexual abuse to Anne’s past isn’t done to be true to her character and was in fact explicitly untrue. Now of course I don’t know the reasons why they chose to do this, but I can guess. Just as with Max, the most traumatic thing a male writer can think of for a female character is for them to be sexually abused.

And the most disturbing part of this to me? The parallels it has to the real world of why straight men think lesbians exist. These characters who would be called man haters in present day are given these incredibly traumatic man-centered histories. It brings up something very uncomfortable in me about particularly wlw sexuality being viewed as a reaction to trauma at the hands of men. It’s just gross, I dont like it, and honestly there is no fucking excuse for it besides a room full of white straight men writing this bullshit. A room that Steinberg chose, because they fit his ideas.

In Fact heck, the women of Black Sails in general

***I honestly struggle to think of a single female character who I think was treated fairly in Black Sails. Miranda and Eleanor are killed for taking sides and not understanding their partners, Madi is betrayed in the worst way possible, Max is given a pseudo empowering ending but has that fucking terrible start. Idelle ends off fairly well, but tied to a man she may or may not have any actual feelings for, in what is essentially a political marriage. And Anne has her entire identity tied to a man who will be dead in two years as she is robbed of any agency whatsoever without him. (Oh, and the whole r*pe thing. And also her support for Max’s r*pe or death until she started having fee-fees. Who wrote this stuff. >_>)

Even though the characterization of each and every one of these women is PHENOMENAL - and again I will repeat that I absolutely LOVE these characters as they exist in a vacuum. I think they are well rounded, real, feeling people given motivations and drives and FEELINGS and they SHOW THEIR ANGER and i LOVE THEM.

But the show punishes them for it. Miranda is essentially fridged to move Flint’s storyline along, and to make room for Silver. Eleanor is killed for the emotional damage it will cause Rogers. Madi is placed at the center of a conflict she explicitly says she is willing to die for and then not only is her entire cause taken from her, but when she tells Silver to fuck off he - in possibly the most predictable white man move ever - says ‘no i will stay until you change your mind. I will never leave you. I don’t care about your choice in this matter, I will wait forever for you. I’m your biggest fan. I’ll follow you until you love me. papa, - paparazzi.’

And I touched on this before, but I want to talk in more detail about what is possibly my hottest take to date, the sexification of Mary Read and Queen Nanny, as they are presented in the show.

Max is to Anne what Mary Read is, historically. She is the lover that Jack Rackham discovers with Anne, and then he joins them in their bed. They form a triumvirate that upholds Jack at the expense of the women. But for some reason, Steinberg didn’t want to just include Mary Read as an actual character. For some reason he needed to make Anne’s love interest a sex worker who was in need of saving (and who, coincidentally, we never see working the brothel after she becomes lovers with Anne, because she is now a madam. :) Gross.)

And Madi. My dear sweet fucking Madi who didn’t fucking deserve any of this bullshit send tweet.

So, historically, Queen Nanny was the Queen, spiritual advisor, and the military tactician of the Windward Maroons. She would have filled both Madi and the Queen’s character roles(and Flint’s, but who’s counting. A BLACK GAY LEAD? Inconceivable. I digress.) But, I guess, because they were wishy-washing with Silver’s sexuality or felt they needed to give him a female love interest because of Treasure Island, or because they were leaning a bit too hard into the gay shit and needed to backpedal, they took Queen Nanny and split her into a character who is for all intents and purposes powerless in the war and Madi, who is young and naive and does not have any real world experience outside of the Maroon camp.

Because that’s sexy, or something. They could have had the Maroon Queen be a fucking badass lady who works and fights alongside Flint and Silver and one ups them and teaches them shit and has her own ideas about where the British can stick it, but instead they made her into the perfect caricature of a female monarch, letting the big strong men handle the dirty work or something. Because white male power fantasies.

Just let women be powerful and not nubile and let them have character arcs over fucking thirty and let them be CENTERED in their own. fucking. narratives.

God damnit Steinberg.

James Flint, mlm extraordinaire

Oh, my love. My most amazing child. The light of my life. My purest cinnamon roll.

~~And now we’ve come to the dreaded Silverflint criticism part of our programming. Please please know and remember this isn’t a criticism of people who ship Silverflint. As I said up top, Your Tomato Is Not My Tomato and that’s cool. Please don’t take this next part as an attack on Silverflint as a fandom ship.~~

My criticism of Steinberg as it relates to Flint is related to:

What a romantic/sexual relationship with Silver being the basis of the tension and plot means for Flint in particular as a gay or mostly mlm man.

Refusing to confirm Thomas and James being alive at the end and honestly the whole finale in general but like I’ll try and focus.

The major problem I have with Silver and Flint being coded as in love with each other is the implications there in terms of gay men’s relationships to other men.

From every corner, men are inundated with the idea that any close relationship between them must be gay. That intimacy cannot exist unless there are sexual feelings involved. That a relationship cannot be close, deep and soul shattering and life altering, unless one guy secretly(or not so secretly) wants to bone the other dude. That two men cannot value each other as partners or friends or truly know each other unless they are gay.

Seeing both of the meaningful relationships Flint forms with other men be sexually coded feels a bit the same way as Anne and Max’s sexual assault plotlines does vis-a-vis being wlw. (Even with Gates, Flint never spoke about Thomas or his plans - Silver is absolutely the closest person to Flint besides Thomas and Miranda.) And this is just as true for Silver. Having both Flint and Madi - the two people he trusts - both be people he’s in love with also just feels. I don’t know.

It feels like a confusion between male intimacy and male love that is so so familiar to me as a gay man I could choke on it. Where they wanted these men to have a deep and really lasting connection, but could only figure out how to do it if they were in love. Friendship wouldn’t have been enough - only romantic and sexual love is enough for the gay man(or men, at all).

Just because it isn’t queerbaiting doesn’t mean it’s good rep, and I would have liked to see truly deep male friendships that did not center on sexual attraction - particularly for Flint as a confirmed mlm(and Silver too, if you’re counting him. The same arguments for why I dislike Flint being paired with Silver are also true in the reverse.)

Even if both Flint and Silver were confirmed mlm I still would have LOVED to see a platonic relationship between them. In fact I would have loved that EVEN MORE. Men! Who fuck men! Not needing to fuck each other to be important to one another! Who made this. Very delicious.

But because there weren’t any queer writers on the show, writers who understand this kind of struggle that gay and mlm men face, they thought ‘oh, let’s also have them be in love with each other. More gay rep is better gay rep, right?’ False. THOUGHTFUL gay rep is better gay rep.

Okay and here’s my last thing. The fact that Steinberg refuses to say whether or not the explicitly mlm men are alive at the end of the show - that the words he specifically uses are ‘up for interpretation’ is. Fuck, it’s gross, okay? It’s fucking gross.

I have been around enough men, enough people in power, enough people with leverage who also know how to play the field, to know that when someone wants a group’s support but does not agree with them, their go to phrasing is that it is ‘up for debate’ or ‘up for interpretation.’

Say the gays are alive. Steinberg refusing to acknowledge the reality of the ending of his show to maintain his own sense of artistic integrity is what, honestly, really sets me off about him and I don’t care if this is a nuanced take.

Like yes, death of the author. I honestly don’t care if he thinks they’re dead or alive. What I care about is that he thinks he can get away with being clever and leaning hard into a story is true/untrue’ - doesn’t realize what the implications of that are, and didn’t when he was writing, and didn’t have anyone else in the room who would think about it either.

ANYWAY. So this is....my long drawn out explanation for why I do not like Steinberg. Uhhhhh tune in next week for more of my totally unpopular opinions!

#good....fucking lord #i am so sorry #how many opinions can milo fit in one post #i mean i have more but yknow lmao #black sails #behind the black sails #milos black sails meta #long posts #my increasingly devoted attempts to find tumblrs word limit #Anonymous #john steinberg #js critical but the js is jon steinberg

143 notes · View notes

wickwrites · 3 years

Text

Burning as a Motif for Humanity in Violet Evergarden

I think, when watching Violet Evergarden, most of us picked up on fire as a motif for Violet’s trauma – the violence and destruction she witnessed in the war, and the violence and destruction she engendered with her own hands. I’m not going to go into this too much because it’s all pretty self-explanatory, if not trite, but here are some quick examples of fire as a motif for her trauma just to lay the groundwork for the rest of the essay:

In frame 1 (episode 8), Violet draws first blood on the battlefield, and the once contained fire from the felled soldiers’ lanterns spread quickly through the forest, a symbol for how one small act of violence can cascade into large scale destruction. In frame 2, Gilbert stares at the carnage in front of him, horrified. In frame 3, the major is shot, and all we get to see is a screen of flames. In frame 4 (episode 12), Merkulov stares into a fire as he schemes about re-kindling the war.

I want to follow this (well trodden) opinion up with a more encompassing statement. That is, fire, in Violet Evergarden, is not limited to representing the destructive power of violence and trauma. Instead, it is a motif for humanity itself – an embodiment of the full range of experiences and emotions that make us human.

To show this, I’m going to start off at the beginning of Violet’s journey, focusing on how her disconnect (from herself as well as others) is illustrated in episode one. For instance, her initial struggle to move her now mechanical arms as she sits in her hospital bed in the opening sequence is an excellent embodiment of her dissociation from her own body and lack of agency. I want to, however, focus on two scenes that are particularly relevant for our discussion:

First, the scene where Violet spills tea on her hand:

And second, the scene where Hodgins insists that Violet is burning:

These scenes are similar: in both, someone asserts that Violet must be in pain, specifically due to burning, and in both, Violet rejects that statement. In the first, however, that burning is physical. And in the second, that burning is emotional. Regardless, Violet is so removed from her own body that she is incapable of feeling either. Her mechanical hand is therefore an embodiment of her inhumanity (ie. her “dollness” or “weapon-ness”). Like her, it is cold, mechanical, insensitive, without life or agency. After all, up until now, all she’s been doing is killing on command, without the ability to think for herself, experience her own pain, or sympathize with her victims’ pain.

When the screen shows that Hodgins is indeed correct, that Violet is literally on fire (frame 1), that fire is depicted with restraint. Flames engulfs Violet’s body, but those flames are from a streetlamp enclosed in glass. It is controlled and distant. This encapsulates Violet’s current state; she is literally on fire, but that fire is so compartmentalized and suppressed, and she is so far removed from her own experience, that she is incapable of feeling it.

In frame 2, we are viewing Violet in a flashback, from Hodgin’s point of view. Although we’re offered a close up shot of her bloodied hands, we see, about two cuts later, that Hodgin is actually observing Violet from afar (frame 2.5). This distance demonstrates that he cannot bring himself to reach out to her, something that Hodgin confesses he feels guilty about literally 5 seconds later. They were, at that point in time, and perhaps even now, unable to connect.

In frames 3 and 4, Hodgin is speaking again. We get this super far shot of Violet’s body. The camera is straight on, objective, and unfeeling. This unsympathetic framing has two functions. First, it distances us from Violet. Our inability to see the details on her face and her relatively neutral body language gives us, the audience, no real way inidication her thoughts. Second, it distances Violet from herself. As someone who experiences dissociative symptoms from PTSD, this is a very poignant way of framing what it feels like to be removed from your own experience. Hodgin’s line, “You’ll understand what I’m saying one day. And, for the first time, you’ll notice all your burn scars,” further drives home the sense that Violet is completely estranged from herself. It almost feels like we are looking at her, from her own detached point of view.

We’re going to move on now, but we’ll get back to these frames later in the analysis, so hold onto them.

Throughout Violet’s journey, fire comes up again and again. Specifically, it shows up in moments of emotional intimacy, connection, and healing. Let’s see what I mean by this:

I have here a collection of moments that all occur at the same narrative point in their respective mini-stories: the moment where one character reaches out to another, sympathizes with them, and literally pulls them of their darkness. For example, frame 1 (episode 3) shows Violet bringing a letter from Luculia to her brother. It expresses Luculia’s gratitude and love for him, and ultimately mends their relationship. In frame 2 (episode 4), Violet and Iris share a moment of emotional intimacy and connection, which is the beginning of Iris’ story’s resolution. In frame 3 (episode 9), Violet’s suicidal despondency is interrupted by the mailman, bringing her a heartwarming letter from all her friends. In frame 4 (episode 11), Violet comforts a dying solder by a fireplace.

It’s not that other modes of lighting do not exist – modern looking lamps show up repeatedly in the show. Even Iris’ rural family has them, so I can reasonably assume that, no, the above moments do not all coincidentally use lamps because that’s all there is in this universe; the usage of fire during moments of catharsis is deliberate, and establishes that fire can also bring hope, kindness, and love.

Now that we’ve explored the dual nature of fire as both destructive/constructive, painful/cathartic, let’s go onto the thesis of my essay. Why do I say that being on fire is to be human? Let’s go back to the scene where Hodgin tells Violet she’s on fire (episode 1, on the left), and compare it to the scene where Violet finally realizes that Hodgin was right and that she is on fire (episode 7, on the right):

In these sequences, there is a notable shift in framing and perspective. In frame 1b, we finally get to see Violet’s blood-stained hands from her point of view, as opposed to from Hodgin’s point of view in 1a. Violet becomes aware of her past as an actual agent choosing to kill, shown through the first-person point of view. Similarly, the medium, straight on shot of Violet looking down at her hands (frame 2a) is replaced with an intimate first-person, close-up view (frame 2b). In shots 3a and 3b, the difference in framing is most pronounced. In 3a, we get this straight on, long shot. In frame 3b, the camera’s detachment is replaced by a claustrophobic closeness. While this framing does an excellent job at conveying the panicked feeling of “everything crashing down all at once”, it also demonstrates Violet’s new-found awareness of herself. While before, the camera was used to alienate, now it is used to create a sense of painful awareness and intimacy.

These series of shots are the first in the entire show, I believe, of Violet's body from her own point of view. Their co-incidence with her awakening self-awareness characterizes the state of “being in one’s body” as a precondition to self-connection, or more specifically, to Violet’s understanding of herself as neither a weapon nor a doll, but as a human. Correspondingly, this pivotal moment serves as a catalyst for her subsequent emotional development. From this episode on towards the finale, we’re launched into a heart wrenching sequence of events: Violet’s desperate grieving for Gilbert’s apparent death, her attempted suicide driven by newfound grief, and most importantly, Violet receiving her first written letter, an act that is strongly representative of genuine human connection. Following these events, Violet’s emotional connection to both herself and others only continues to grow; during her two final jobs of the story, she breaks down crying in response to the suffering of her clients, demonstrating a level of compassion—if not empathy—that she seems to have never been able to tap into before.

At the same time, Violet acquires a new sense of agency, making plot-driving decisions that no longer require other characters’ validations. Most poignantly, in episode 12, she chooses to stay on the train to fight Merkulov, explicitly going against Dietfried’s order for her to leave. Her reason?

She doesn’t want anyone to die anymore.

And it’s this moment, for me, that consolidated her as a character with true agency. Up until now, all her major decisions have been framed in relation to Gilbert: she killed in the war because Gilbert ordered her to, and she became an Auto Memories Doll because she wanted to understand Gilbert’s enigmatic “I love you”. Now, however, her motivation is purely her own—she fights, simply because she doesn’t want anyone else to die. It’s a line implies an intimate knowledge of loss. It’s a sentiment motivated by compassion. It’s a raw and extraordinarily human thing to say.

When Violet embarks on her journey to decipher Gilbert’s love, she is devoid of many traits we consider inherent and possibly even unique to being human—suffering, compassion, altruism, love, agency, and the interplay between them. As an Auto Memories Doll, she learns to live, experiencing all these emotions she had never had the luxury to experience before, and we quickly realize that she cannot know what love is without simultaneously wrestling with her trauma. She learns that yes, sometimes the fire destroys and sometimes it burns, but sometimes it thaws too, and you cannot have one without the other. You cannot choose what the fire does to you; you cannot choose what you want to feel. Thus, to be on fire is to know the anguish of its destruction, but it is also, and more importantly, to know the catharsis of human connection, to be the warm flame that pulls someone else out of the dark, to be pulled out of the dark yourself. To be on fire is to be human.

#violet evergarden #violet evergarden analysis #anime analysis #anime #anime essay #anime meta #violet evergarden meta #analysis #w.writing #w.analysis

47 notes · View notes

florbelles · 3 years

Note

L Y R A + vowels? ❤

ty lovely!! xx content warning for lyra-typical content ( torture, violence, sex, death, her standard bullshit ). unavoidable angst on the y despite the titular fluff asks because this is the hell that i’m always living in.

A CTIVITIES. what do they like to do with their s/o? how do they spend their free time with them?

— torturing nonbelievers, killing the unworthy, fucking in the blood of sinners ( sin can only be cleansed with blood, they say; blood cleanses all, they say; not all, sayeth shaggy, stage left with the mop ), watching each other work, seedsplaining their life stories to heretics, monologuing like they’re on a helium inhale, tormenting shaggy, never shutting the fuck up, making the flock at large crave the release of seven years in a bunker apart from them, laughing at their mediocre-to-terrible jokes they believe are terribly witty, causing joseph immeasurable pain in behaving reprehensibly during sermons when he’s too occupied to give them the Look of Discontent.

in all seriousness, the main thing she does with her husband that she can with absolutely no one else is nothing at all. the closest thing they have to an off switch is with each other. look at them, nuzzling in the rocking chair on the porch. look how in love they are. they might be anyone. they might be entirely unburdened of who and what they are. they might simply exist, for a moment. they might simply be happy. how sweet. do not look too closely at the blood drying under her claws. do not listen too closely to the sounds from the shed. do not try to identify that lingering scent emanating from the fire pit; surely it’s only the hickory.

E QUAL. are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

— neither; lyra could never be in a partnership with someone she does not consider her equal in every respect. all her life she assumed she would be alone precisely because she knows what she is; she would never ask anyone to be in that position. she would never ask someone to live at a disadvantage. she would never want to be with someone who could not know the worst of it and choose her anyway. she needs someone who can keep up with her and can keep her on her toes. she needs someone who’s like her, who sees her, who understands her, who can meet her at her level. she truly needs her match; she would never accept anything less, for the sake of both her interest and her comfort level.

I NSPIRATION. did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

— on the contrary, they both hold the belief that everything they've been through and done and become has led them to this point ; they were meant for this, they were meant for each other, but they have already become who they need to be by the time their paths cross. everything led them to here, to each other, and for that, they can forgive the world nearly anything.

they don't alter each other, they don’t seek to, but they do bring out the extremes in the other; they fuel each other's fanaticism, messianic complexes, sadism, all of it. they indulge each other. they love each other completely, as they are, even the worst parts. perhaps especially those.

it might be said they temper the others’ self-destructive propensities, to an extent. she is perhaps more cautious because of him; she will never be truly cautious — not even he can give her impulse control or self-preservation instincts — but she is no longer quite so as expendable; there will be ramifications for someone who is not herself if she dies. she is no longer simply another damned soul, preying on the predators until she herself is slain. ( she has met her match, he did not slay her, he loved her instead; that was far more terrifying ). she is monstrous, but she is the monster he loves. she is nothing instead, but she is something also. ( lyra is obviously no longer at war with herself after finding her purpose in her the project, which is a fairly fundamental shift, but that can’t be attributed to john; she would have joined the project with or without him ).

of course loving him changes things, not in who she is, but in how it’s externalized ( this is how he saves her; all of her rage, all of her wrath, all of the passion and intensity and emotion and impulse that brews inside her, all of it is poured into loving him ). theirs is an obsessive, all-consuming, codependent love, and while being with him means she is wanted and loved and accepted and happy and at home for the first time in her life — and of course that changes things, of course it does, she is no longer afraid of herself, she is no longer consumed with loathing for what she is, because perhaps she is a monster, but god must love her, must, must, she must have done right, because go brought her here, god gave her him — but this also means that losing him leaves a truly irreparable void.

O N CLOUD NINE. what are they like when they are in love? is it obvious for others? how do they express their feelings?

— terrified. agonized. as giddy as a schoolgirl. she is deliriously, excruciatingly, passionately in love, or not at all; it’s everything or it’s nothing. ( she’s poor at expressing it with words. words she grew up with. words are so easily misunderstood. words are so easily fabricated. she cannot say she loves him. the words feel too weak. she is afraid they will rot in her mouth. she is afraid they will be as empty as every other time she heard it in her life. such a stupid word. such a small, stupid word ). nonetheless, it’s obvious, blindingly so, even from external observation; she lights up; she flushes; her heart still lurches when she sees him. she still feels drunk with it. she always will.

lyra’s love is ultimately something she demonstrates through acts, with sweat and tears and blood. she proves it with her body; physical intimacy is the only kind of intimacy she knows how to express. ( forgive me; i know only how to love violently ). she proves it with a simple, i see you: i know you; i am going to let you see me. i am going to let you know me.

she does not say i love you. she says i chose you, and he knows what it means.

she drops into warm familiarity; her enemies are greeted with “hello, darling,” her husband gets a simple “hi, john.” she does not mask her soft, light voice. she curls around him when he sleeps to feel the blood beating through his veins and his breath on her neck. she murmurs insensibly to him. she willingly surrenders all of her defenses.

( they could kill each other. they could destroy each other. they have always known this. they have always known what they are ).

she decides she’s going to let him.

U NDERSTANDING. how well do they know their partner? are they empathetic?

— she knows him better than anyone. she knows him immediately. she sees him. she recognizes him. she understands him. that’s all she’s ever wanted, to have that with someone. for them to know her. she wouldn’t even asked to be loved; she knows how much that asks. but yes. she does. he’s her own heart; whatever he feels, she does.

Y EARNING. how will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

— she simply does not.

her separation anxieties with john go deeper than simply missing him because of the fact that joseph insists that, if he should die young, he dies alone, so whenever she is parted from him for any substantial amount of time and he is left alone she is actually, physically crippled. she was separated from him once for five days at the beginning of the reaping; she couldn’t keep anything down. she couldn’t sleep. mary may found her crawling on the floor of the spread eagle dry heaving on the second day, and it was downhill from there.

she’s entirely comatose immediately following his death; she shows little improvement for months. she wears nothing but his trench; she won’t wash because his blood dried on her skin before the end of everything, because she’ll never have him inside her again and she can’t scrub him away, because she can’t move, because she can’t swallow or scream and her insides have run too dry to swallow or cry or blink. ( it’s entirely possible she never would have functioned again, had joseph not told her the voice returned to him; he had almost given up on her survival by then; surely there was little human left in her ).

she might externally be more or less restored to her former self after that, but the truth is that she never recovers, not really; she slips out to his grave every night and sleeps with her fingers buried in the dirt. she talks to him, sometimes, or hums, or sings, even though he’s not there, even though she can’t feel him. all her life she’s played roles, and she plays herself exceptionally well, but a fundamental part of herself died with him. she is playing someone who no longer exists. she is a phantom. the new world is her purgatory.

( he is her whole heart, don’t forget. )

she watches it ripped from her chest.

she keeps breathing.

she bleeds out for seventeen years.

she still counts herself the happiest woman who lived.

#answered #lilwritingraven #sorry about who she is as a person #oc: lyra fairbanks #asks: lyra

8 notes · View notes

chews-erotically · 3 years

Photo

Waxing Gibbous

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

* Warnings: Angst, violence, SMUT/ threesome mmf/ fingering/ oral (m/f, f/f), assault, PTSD, Very Dark Thoughts

* Summary: Negotiation, implementation, consternation, consequences

* Word Count: ~2500k

PART FOURTEEN

You tread your new dynamic with care and consideration. Ezra asked you, again and again, if you were sure. He knew people got jealous, no matter how open they may seem to experimentation at the outset. Ezra has been around, of that he’s made no qualms of reminding you. He’d seen arrangements blown up in both the heat of passion and in the dry planning stages. He professed to you in a million different ways that he would sooner lose a limb than jeopardize your partnership.

“If this is to have even a whisper of eventual occurrence, Dovie, the channels of communication must remain patent and our exchanges honest. There must be not one shred of doubt and uncertainty. I have seen the strongest of unions crumble to dust through the mismanaged impropriety of baser desires.”

His eyes were warm, yet somber. The uptick at the corner of his mouth belied the serious set of his features. You knew he had concerns. His hands grasped yours, your knees canted toward one another as you sat on your couch.

You trusted him implicitly. You had never been in a situation such as the hypothetical you were now navigating. Your past dalliances had not lacked variety, however they had not been frequent. Indeed, before Ezra you had been without physical intimacy for well over two years.

From the beginning, you had discussed ground rules. Ezra relayed and reinforced to you, during each careful conversation, that you must be in agreement with one another for every step of this new equation.

“I will ask you ad nauseum for your explicit consent in all doings, Dove,” his hand caught your wrist and stroked a broad thumb over your pulse point. “We must ask the same of whomever we entwine ourselves with. It truly is the crux of all pleasure, of the give and take of Eros. To know that what all parties deign to both imbibe and impart is agreed upon and accepted.”

“I understand, Ez.”

Perhaps at least as important as the concept of consent to Ezra was the unity with which you were to approach any and all potential arrangements.

“There must be no part of this endeavor in which we are not together,” his voice was calm and even, filled with soft affection as he rubbed your fingers between his palms. His eyes enveloped you, drawing your own gaze into deep and hypnotic pools. “I will do nothing, my gaze will not linger on another without you beside me. I will ask the same of you. Nothing is to transpire without each of our individual presences within one another’s orbit.”

You both further discussed your terms over the course of the next several days. Ezra wanted your absolute certainty; the faintest doubt in your mind must be immediately and honestly expressed the moment it arose. You discussed your limits, safe words. Your frank conversation often left you both inflamed, tearing at clothing and gasping into each other’s hungry mouths as he impaled you on his cock, whispering a continuance of your plans that left you groaning and grunting like a desperate animal against any surface he’d seen fit to take you against.

You had initially brought up the idea of another couple; Ezra had immediately vetoed. He explained that the dynamics would be too touchy, perhaps volatile. Involving another couple may lend complications to what could be construed as an already precarious adventure.

“Not for the first time, Dove. Men in love, even in lust often house a primal directive to possess and claim. I will not place you or any other in such a position, at least for our first time.”

It did not matter to Ezra whether your first partner was male, female or elsewhere on the gender continuum; he relayed he’d had pleasurable encounters with all persuasions. He left it up to you.

After some careful consideration you’d settled on engaging with a female for your first time. You loved Ezra more than the moon and stars, but there was something about the curves and soft, pillowy flesh of a willing and open woman that brought heat to your chest and caused a buzzing in your brain that left your blood rushing in your ears and your mouth dry.

He’d flashed his Cheshire smile at your declaration and enveloped you in a crushing embrace, whispering devotionals against the crook of your neck.

******

The girl you’d found was tall, nearly Ezra’s height. She wore a sequined dress that glittered like a garnet against the light of the soft Edison bulbs on your end tables. Her laugh was musical, it reminded you of wind chimes made of hollow bone. She laughed often; this was what had drawn you to her.

She’d been leaning back on the bar of the club you’d spent weeks visiting. It was a small, intimate location festooned with antique rococo furniture draped in tapestries of purple and scarlet. You’d taken your time, easing into the sophisticated atmosphere, acquainting yourselves with staff and regular patrons. The rhythm of the location was languid, sensuous. You could almost picture nude, rubenesque concubines reclining against the velvet couches while old-world Jazz plucked tinkling notes in the incensed air. It was perfect, and the intimate setting was ripe for measuring the potential of the various patrons who walked through its doors.

So, it was the joyous, full-bodied laughter that had drawn you to her. Ezra let you take the lead, staying back to watch you. You ingratiated yourself to her easily, offering her a drink that she gladly accepted. As you both made your way to the ornate couch upon which Ezra perched, you noted him watching intently, lids hooded, finger idly stroking the lip of the glass in his hand. His eyes were tide pools, drawing you to him, hypnotizing.

Predatory.

And so the girl, named Andra, sat betwixt you as you began your dance. You flirted shamelessly, throwing your head back, leaning forward to give her a glimpse of what was underneath. You noticed her gaze linger there, and felt your adrenaline spike. You took a chance and brushed the knuckles of one hand against the side of her knee as you reached for your drink. The knee moved to press against yours.

Ezra was much quieter than usual, allowing you to steer the conversation. He’d chime in occasionally, but for the most part his gaze lingered on your animated face. His eyes smoldered, his arm extended down the length of the back of the couch.

At one point you stood, excusing yourself to the restroom. Andra excused herself as well. You entered the unisex fresher and before you had time to react Andra had you pressed against a stall door, her hands in your hair, her tongue curling into your startled gasp. You froze only momentarily before returning her kiss, framing her own soft face with your hands.

Your lips tangled for endless moments before you came back to yourself, forcing a break as you reluctantly pulled away. You both panted in silence, chests rising and falling in rapid succession, before Andra spoke.

“I like you.” her smile was small, shy. The brazenness had melted away with interruption of affection.

You huffed out a laugh.

“I like you too,” you paused, considering. “Do you like him as well?”

Her soft chuckle was an echo of yours.

“He’s very handsome.”

“I agree.” You grasped her hand in yours, meeting her gaze. Your eyes became serious, your words measured like sordid currency.

“Would you like to come home with us, Andra?”

She would be delighted to, she replied. She really never did things like this, she said. She kept mostly to herself, but she had just received word that she had been approved for a loan to open a private art gallery. She felt like celebrating.

“She feels like celebrating, Ezra,” you quipped when you returned. He immediately stood, nodded once, paid the tab. He pulled you aside briefly before you left to walk home.

“Sweet girl, I cannot help but notice your lips are swollen, almost as if from some form of vigorous contact…” he whispered, his expression unreadable.

You shrugged. “She kissed me in the bathroom. It took me by surprise.”

His gaze darkened, lips set in a grim line. Your heart jumped into your throat.

“Always together, remember? Rule one.”

You found it difficult to meet his eyes when they burned into you like hot ash.

“I’m...sorry, Ezra. It won’t happen again. I lost myself.”

“It’s okay to lose yourself, Dovie, just don’t jeopardize the trust we’ve agreed upon so ardently.” his hand grasped your chin, tilting your face to his as his lips ghosted over yours.

“I love you so fucking much.”

******

“Look what you’re doing to our lovely conquest, Dove,” Ezra cooed, his chest slicked with sweat, one hand slowly pumping up and down his engorged cock. He knelt behind you, fingers in your quivering cunt as you lapped at Andra spread out and eager while your mouth worked her. You flattened your tongue and alternated long, slow licks with wrapping your lips around her hard little bud. Andra was keening, sobbing, canting her hips up toward you as you desperately worked to take in the flood of slick that poured out of her.

You thrust your hips back forcefully as you came up for air. Your mouth and chin was drenched in her come, it was intoxicating and made you feel feral. You were working toward your third orgasm of the night, having already come twice just from the friction of your grinding clit on the surface of the blanket beneath you. Ezra leaned forward to capture your mouth, moaning at the taste of your eager lover.

“See how she falls apart so easily for you, legs quivering uncontrollably? She’s soaking the sheets beneath her. She cannot begin to keep those gorgeous noises from spilling, much like the slick from her twitching hole..”

You cried out, lost in the feeling of being tugged so deliciously both forward and backward between warring sensations.

You felt the blunt head of Ezra’s cock at your trembling entrance, and you pushed back one again, desperate for him to fill you as the head of his cock nudged against your clit, then notched at your tight, soaked entrance.

You groaned loudly into the weeping slit before you as he sheathed himself inside of you and when his hips finally made contact with the backs of your legs, you bucked against him.

“Fuck, Ezra,” you sobbed. “So fucking good oh my fucking gods….”

He remained still as you fucked yourself back onto his turgid length once, twice, three times and then the wire pulled tight within you was snapped again, your arms trembling violently before you collapsed forward, gasping and screaming into the soaked blankets beneath you. Andra scrambled up the mattress and shuffled back to where you were connected. You felt her hands on your hitching ass as you spasmed uncontrollably around Ezra’s hard, slick cock.

Ezra was moaning as he went deeper, grinding his hips up and down against your spasming cunt as your come flooded out around where he speared into you.

“Ooooooooh yes, oh yes beautiful girl, let it out for me, soak this fucking cock, you feel so fucking good, you get so fucking tight when you come on my dick like this..”

As you came down from your high, your hips dropped and you lay almost motionless except for the aftershocks that coursed through you.

You heard Ezra moan again and turned with dazed interest to glance over your shoulder, where you observed Andra taking Ezra’s cock down her throat. She bobbed on it, taking down an impressive amount of his length as her hand massaged his balls.

Ezra’s expression was one of concentration, his eyes squeezed shut, mouth hanging open as he gasped as he was drawn, again and again, into her mouth.

You watched the scene in front of you, and it occurred to you that there was a complete stranger giving Ezra pleasure, that it was someone other than you. You felt confused. Why did it feel like this so suddenly, when only moments before you’d enthusiastically had your entire mouth on her clit, your tongue inside of her?

It didn’t bother you then, so why now?

The longer you lay there, the more discomfort you felt. You didn’t like it. Wordlessly, you extricated yourself from the bed and silently donned your silk robe. You stood at the foot of the bed and observed what was happening before you, your skin growing tighter and tighter the longer you stared.

What is wrong with me? This is okay, it was what you’d agreed upon.

The longer you tried to deny it, the stronger the waves of deep, red tumult built and crashed around your foggy mind.

“....Dove?” a hesitant question, unsure. Ezra had stilled, almost frozen on the bed. His eyes were dilated, blown black, but there was a very specific brand of concern etching his features. Andra watched you warily, as if suddenly aware that she’d waded into some unspoken, uncertain territory. You watched her begin to back off the bed slowly, as if distancing herself from an apex predator.

You felt storms building; you struggled to steady your breath, chest heaving. You felt control slip from your tenuous grasp.

You felt rage.

Ezra had talked about the dark force of possession, of needing to own and claim among men in such arrangements as this.

You realized this applied to women just as well.

Ezra was yours, this woman had him in her mouth, your cock was inside of her, this strange woman you’d just met who dared to give him pleasure while you were RIGHT. THERE.

Your mind was blank, your perception of movement coming to you like frames in an old slide projector.

Click.

You stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed and expression blank.

Click.

You vaguely saw Ezra move from the bed and grab his pants. He was confused, eerily silent.

Click.

You had just a moment to process the sudden look of shock and panic that crossed Andra’s face as your hands wrapped around her neck.

There was shouting, Andra’s face was red, turning purple, her hands scrabbling desperately to break the vice-like grip of your fingers pressing into her throat, her eyes bulging. Her heartbeat was a fluttering bird beneath you, a pitiful animal caught in a snare.

Larger hands were grabbing at you, the shouting continued. You could not make out the words, so hypnotized were you by the sight of panicked, waning consciousness before you.

You were flung backward, your hands pried roughly off of yielding flesh, your grip faltering.

Your back hit the wall. Ezra was staring at you with wide eyes. He looked terrified.

Andra was just to the left of numb terror, gasping and sobbing the breath back into her burning lungs.

You looked down at your hands, clenched and shaking. Your whole body shaking.

You were a monster.

You turned, stumbling desperately through the doorway and into the hall.

You pulled the robe tight around you and rushed out, out of everything, attempting to leave yourself behind.

Running.

Tags: @ifimayhaveaword, @rzrcrst, @absurdthirst, @cinewhore, @hopelikethesun, @yespolkadotkitty, @sin-djarin, @lackofhonor, @din-damn-djarin, @mrpascals, @theocatkov, @thefineandnobleartofavoidance, @hellojustheretolookatmeemees, @cyaredindjarin, @im-like-reallythirsty, @mstgsmy, @goldafterglow, @givemethatgold, @shaqbutt, @sirianisrock, @artemiseamoon, @thatreclusewriter, @scribbledghost, @f0rever15elf, @opheliaelysia, @qveenbvtch, @hdlynn, @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa, @spacegayofficial, @ezraslittlebirdie, @ezrasarm, @ezraslittleblondestreak, @tintinwrites, @kindablackenedsuperhero, @darthadeline, @alexisinorbit, @knittingqueen13, @lueurnotes, @xakilicious, @keeper0fthestars, @huliabitch, @di-kut, @zombieaurora, @corrupt-fvcker, @cryptkeepersoul, @teaofpeach, @thestreamergirl, @frannyzooey, @mndalorians, @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @heatherbel, @the-feckless-wonder, @millllenniawrites, @revolution-starter, @melon-eyes, @kiwi-the-first

#chews-erotically #chews-erotically writes #ezra fic #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #Waxing Gibbous

67 notes · View notes

segasister · 3 years

Text

Simple Romance Writing Tips:

(Adapted from my twitter, but better organized)

You have two protagonists, not one. Both need focus and development. Both are agents of desire, not objects of it.

When it comes to perspective, both protagonists’ points of view are important. Remember: both are agents of desire, not just objects of desire. You can go with dual First Person POV or Omniscient Third Person POV. You decide what’s easier for you.

One character shouldn’t change for the other. Both should grow with each other. For example, while a rebellious character learns to become more sweet, their uptight partner needs to learn to become more relaxed. The best partners help you grow as a person.

Don’t end the story when your protagonists get together. It’s not only overdone, but it ends before the bigger story can begin.

You can build tension in a relationship without involving abuse (physical/emotional/etc.) or forcing a break-up (either temporary or permanent) between the couple.

That in mind, couples do have their struggles, from the mundane to the more more dramatic.

You don’t need high stakes to create a compelling story. You just need some conflict present.

Don’t forget to add in sweet moments as well (PDAs need not be overly mushy). Remind the audience why they’re together in the first place.

Grand gestures are, well, grand. However, the little things (like helping each other with tasks) can be just as romantic.

You know love languages? Use some combination of all five of them in your story. Every person expresses love differently, and you should reflect that. What are the five love languages? Words of Affirmation (“I love you.”), Acts of Service (Helping your partner put groceries away), Gifts (A stuffed bear won at a fair), Physical Intimacy (Cuddling on the couch), Quality Time (Playing video games together while a long distance apart).

Opposites attract, yeah. However, there’s no shame in having characters be alike in many ways as well. Hell, have your couple be different in some ways but alike in others. Just about every relationship, from romantic to platonic to familial, is like this.

There is concern with having your characters, “being defined by their relationships,” ie. having their only trait be, “X’s partner.” However, that shouldn’t happen if you write your character similarly to how they were when they were single. However, don’t forget that growth.

Don't have one character in your relationship revolve around the other (what, "only letting them be defined by their relationship actually means.") In real life, that could be a sign of one partner isolating the other from friends, family, et cetera, an abusive tactic. (More on that below.)

The above also applies to same-sex/polyamorous relationships. Just because it’s not straight, doesn’t mean you treat them different.

Just because you’re writing a story about abuse/bigotry/incest/etc. doesn’t necessarily mean you’re endorsing said things. It’s only endorsing if it’s not shown as a bad thing.

Want to avoid accidentally writing a toxic relationship? You can start by not writing the following power dynamics: Large age gap (adhere to Age / 2 + 7), Huge difference in life experience, Master/Boss + subservient, Celebrity + fan, Literal powers + little/none. Almost all of those can work if the one with less influence/experience/power has the opportunity to match that and eventually take care of themselves should things go south. If they’re not, they’re in an abusive relationship. Physical/Sexual violence need not apply.

One partner shouldn’t be a caretaker for the other. Sure, both must care for one another, but one partner shouldn’t do all of the caring. On the one hand, the one not doing the work is lazy. On the other hand, the carer could be doing this to make the other dependent on them.

If you do intend to write a toxic relationship, make sure it ends either with both partners maturing, either by seeking counseling or ending the relationship. This is especially true if you’re writing an abusive one. However, as in reality, it is a process. Take your time.

People heal from such relationships in different ways. Some choose to seek a new partner, some don’t. Some choose to devote their passion elsewhere (like career or family). What’s important is that they come out better than they were in the relationship. Some… don’t heal, and end up continuing the cycle, by being a victim again or by becoming an abuser. This could work if you intend on writing a tragedy. An abuse victim becoming an abuser themselves or ending in another abusive relationship isn’t a happy ending.

On that note, you can write sad endings. However, tragedy doesn’t necessarily have to end with death. Characters should leave the story changed, no matter what, but a tragedy has to end with them going through a negative change; any, not just them dying or losing a loved one.

Opposing that, writing comedy is hard. There’s a fine line between humor feeling natural and forced. Try to stay on the former side of that line if possible. I find it’s best to write humor by not trying to. You do you, but remember that humor is in the ear of the beholder.

On the subject of love triangles: Make sure both rivals have their own good qualities so it’s not one-sided/between two awful people.

Make sure it ends in a way that satisfies all parties. How you do so is up to you. (Don’t pair your leftover with the protagonist’s baby.)

Romance can be affixed to other genres as well. Slice of Life, fantasy, sci-fi, historical, etc.

The difference between Fantasy and Sci-Fi? Magic vs. Science. Both require the creativity to pull the genre off, but both can take place in a variety of settings. You can write a Pirate Fantasy or a Sci-Fi Western. Maybe you wanna to combine both Sci-Fi and Fantasy. Try it!

Do your research! If you’re basing your story on a time period in a specific place, do your research on what it was like then. Scientific accuracy also helps when it comes to research (for Sci-Fi). Even fantasy requires research, if you wish to include real world elements.

On that note, lore and continuity are not interchangeable. Continuity is making sure plot points remain consistent. Lore is making sure world building stays consistent.

Age is just a number. However, don’t pair teens with adults, or barely-adults with grown adults. The rule of Age / 2 + 7? That also applies here to ensure audiences don’t feel too queasy.

That being said, you are allowed to start the story with your protagonists as kids.

On writing minorities: don’t rely on stereotypes, and don’t write minority characters just to have them. They deserve proper development as well.

Don’t be afraid to have people of two different races together; just be careful that neither protagonist comes off as racist.

On that note, research the people and cultures you wish to write about. Be careful so as to not come across as using said people/culture as a token.

Don’t just focus on the physical/sexual aspect. Sure, physical attraction plays a part, but the personality of both protagonists are more important. How well they get along.

On the topic of sex: it’s entirely optional. There’s plenty of ways to show intimacy without having your characters engage in sex. Just have them enjoy each other’s company. You’re still open to if your audience is more mature; just don’t forget sex isn’t the only option.

Speaking from experience: you can have love without sex. But you cannot have sex without love. (That’s rape!) It’s a, “not every rhombus is a square but every square is a rhombus,” scenario. However, if you just wanna indulge yourself with your work, go for it.

There's a fine line between objectification and expressing sexual agency. It's okay for characters to show pride in that. It's okay for characters to take pride in their modesty.

Promiscuity isn't inherently a bad thing. Abstinence isn't inherently a good thing.

Play around with relationship dynamics (childhood sweethearts, enemies to lovers, etc.)

You want to write a particular romance dynamic? Go right ahead: just make sure it makes sense with the characters you're writing first. Also, some are harder to pull off than others.

When writing Enemies to Lovers, keep in mind it's not an instantaneous progress. Give the enemies time to stop being enemies before you can move on to the, "Lovers" stage. Otherwise, you'll be asking yourself the same question you ask when you see sitcom couples who clearly hate each other and are only still in it for sex/their kids: "Why are you together?"

Another popular dynamic: childhood sweethearts. Just be careful not to write them like siblings (have one see the other “like a sibling” so to speak) and you should be good.

Whatever dynamic you choose, however, don’t be afraid to experiment, bring something fresh to it.

There’s nothing wrong with having a niche, nor is there anything wrong with expanding your horizons and trying something new and taking a risk.

You don’t want to write romance? You just want your protagonists to be platonic? That’s fine.

It’s okay if you don’t have everything planned out ahead of time. It’s okay if the story strays from that initial plan. Go with it. Improvise. Adapt. Outlines help you keep on track, but your story should feel alive to the audience. Changes to the original plan are natural.

Write for YOU. Yes, it’s satisfying to hear feedback, especially positive feedback, but it’s important to write for yourself.

On criticism, be open to it, but there’s a difference between constructive criticism and just vitriol from the reader. Only the former is important.

On writer’s block: if you need to walk away for a bit, go ahead. Maybe an idea will pop in the meantime.

It’s okay to be ashamed of what you wrote in the past. That shows you’ve grown as a writer. It’s also okay to have unfinished drafts. They can be repurposed.

Most important when it comes to writing in general, not just romance: be happy in your work. You’re gonna have off days, but only you’ll know if it’ll be worth it in the end. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to move on to another creative field, or any other altogether.

Any other authors have any tips to share? Doesn’t have to be about romance; they can be about any part of the writing process! I will reblog this post with that advice and will tag you! Or you can reblog yourself.

#Writing #Writeblr #Writing Advice

56 notes · View notes

tethered-heartstrings · 2 years

Note

Fanfic ask game:

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with A Little Gold Goes A Long Way?

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

S: Any fandom tropes you can't resist?

D: The only song mentioned in the story is “Palangos jūroj", which is an old Lithuanian song. I spent a fair amount of time researching a song that was in Lithuanian with a theme that fit my story and Hannibal and Will's relationship. (I may have taken some slight creative liberties in its interpretation. Sue me.) But otherwise not really. Even though I can't listen to any goddamn album without thinking of those two idiots, somehow that doesn't translate to my fics at all.

F: Holy shit, I have too much material to read through. I also feel dialogue is not my strong suit. (P.S. sorry there are more than one I am extremely indecisive.) I'll leave which fic it comes from a mystery. I also took out some of their emotional/facial descriptions and stripped it to just the dialogue. (Edit: I forgot the second part of this prompt oops. I don’t know if I want to explain it, I think me dissecting my own work is a bad time.)

H: “Let me help you. I don’t want to hurt you, Will.” W: “You will. You will because… I need you to.” H: “I don’t understand.” W: “I remembered. I need you to remember, too. You chose to hurt me once. Do it again. Hurt me now and… remember how it feels. Remember my face. My pulse. My breath in your hands. Remember now… so you never hurt me again. I want it to haunt you. Because I need it to end.”

H: “Is something the matter?” W: “How do you treat a burn?” H: “Not much can be done for minor burns. Clean it and dress it like any other wound.” W: “This… isn’t like any other wound, Hannibal.” H: “Damaged flesh is all the same, Will. Don’t make meaning where there is none.” W: “Does it hurt?” H: “Do you need it to?” W: “Pain is lonely. Whether its internalized or left to be expressed unaccompanied makes no difference. I know it hurts.” H: “Then why did you bother to ask?” W: “I guess I hoped maybe you were done lying to me.” W: “You chose an easy target. A bird with broken wings.” H: “Broken bones can be mended.” W: “Even the best medicine can’t cure it all. What’s the quality of life for a bird that cannot fly?” H: “Domesticated birds can live their full lives with mended wings.” W: “Wild birds don’t stand a chance at surviving.” H: “Some birds are not nearly as feral as they assume.” H: “Are you jealous of Mason Verger?” W: “There is nothing about Mason even remotely desirable. I just think you deserve better than his fucking brand on your back.” H: “I cannot see my scar. My branding does not bother me. Blips in a bigger story. It bothers you, though. Did Mason ruin me for you?” W: “What?” H: “He’s marked me. Tainted me, perhaps. A part of me forever.” W: “Nobody can ruin you. Least of all Mason fucking Verger. Besides, not all my marks are from you, either. Does that make you jealous?” H: “Yes.” W: “Why?” H: “Others have marked you but have caused less lasting agony. I wish I could be among the few to… leave their mark but not a scar.” W: “If our violence had no meaning, we wouldn’t be here. Was I ruined for you?” H: “There isn’t a thing on this earth that could spoil you for me.”

S: The only fic I seem to be able to write is hurt/comfort and angst/(some)fluff. Basically, enough fluff to keep the angst from being too painful. I unapologetically love showering/bathing together non-sexually. I can't explain in words how it makes me feel. But it is so vulnerable and requires so much care and love and attention. To wash someone's hair for them, fingertips tracing across the skin? Perfection. I will never tire writing about it. I also love wound healing. Similar feelings of intimacy as bathing but with darker origins. Cleaning blood, stitching wounds, the argument over of "I don't need local anesthetic/yes you do." I guess I'm a sucker for complicated intimacy and touch.

#sorry this took so long #I took a nap and then was on the phone for almost an hour and I can't multitask #and then for the second question I had to sift through 200K words to find something #btw I really did sift through 420 PAGES of material. I only share this because. heh. 420 #I do feel like my strength comes in describing a scene/emotions so sorry if the dialogue sucked? some other ones required too much context #or gave too much away in the story aka the one I haven't posted yet #NOT EVEN SURE THOSE ARE THE BEST QUOTES I AM SO SORRY VNDJSDJK #also feeling very insecure all of a sudden haha rip #anonymous #the curious clown #PS this was still VERY fun! thank you!!#some of these are from my unposted fic so. a sneak peak I guess. not that it is really a spoiler. I kept that dialogue out #if anyone is this deep in the tags feel free to ask more! I have no need for sleep tonight #I hope anon sees this. I don't want to admit how long this took me #this made me realize how much more I have will swearing in the second fic #also? thanks for making me reread the second fic because it reminded me it has good bones and i should keep writing :)

2 notes · View notes

elle-imagines · 4 years

Note

Hello! I just want to say first that I adore your blog. I hardly ever find someone who also loves to do deep character analysis and I love it 🥺 Can I request headcanons of Sasuke with a delicate yet formidable s/o? Maybe add in nsfw if it's not too much trouble? Thank you!

Thank you so much for your kind words, it means a lot to know you like analysis, too! I hope to continue meet your expectations in the future now that I’m back. I love my Sasuke, so I got carried away. It’s a bit long!

~1500 words

NSFW below

SFW

When the two of you first met, he looked over you. He thought you were too gentle and meek in the way you carefully wrapped your kunai or leapt softly from branch to branch. He disregarded the warmth of your voice even when others were rough with you. Before you two got to know each other, he never appreciated fragility. His life never shown him it, so anything of that nature creates a feeling in him that brings discomfort. Or more specifically irritation, curiosity, and a hint of longing for gentleness he wish he experienced.

It began when you offered to clean his weapons. It was a task he could neglect at times, his mind on strategy and ruthless ambition. He agreed, and something urged him to keep you company. He wrote it off as wanting to watch your handiwork, not the pull towards your tame energy that pacified him. Your presence created serenity, a gentle silence as you worked clove oil into his blades while he watched a few birds perch comfortably on an uprooted tree. He thought he’d feel satiated, but peace, serenity, and gentility are scarce resources in his world. He sought this normalcy you provided for him. He was just Sasuke to you, and beyond his unrelenting pursuance of this path he took, he found moments where he only wanted to be a man for once. Just Sasuke. Just with you.

Your meetings continued over time, a respite from violence and anguish, in a secluded area overlooking a creek. You begin to bring meals when you notice him eating less. You brought tomatoes, molded onigiri, and cabbage, while Sasuke met you with a few fish he caught earlier. Every time he ate, he felt gratitude at eating home-grown vegetables he used to indugle in as a child. This sense of nostalgia and normalcy you brung urged him to begin a romantic relationship with you.

He began to know you, no longer overlooking you. He observed the way you grip things like a shinobi would, the lowering of your eyelids when someone was being abrasive. It’s almost as if he could hear you calculating, analyzing others and predicting their next move, your feet subtly shifting in a defensive stance under your dress. When you accompanied him to fight, his heart throbbed faster at the sight of your prowess. Your adaptability. Your cunningness. Your formidability. What was most threatening, if not eerie, was your ultimate control of every part of you, mentally and physically. Every word, every swing of the blade, every small nuance you did was with purpose. You knew just the amount of agony, just the amount of threat to let lay on your tongue, just the right wordplay to use to create doubt in an enemy. Your formidability came from your deliberation. Your formidability came from perseverance before those perceived to be more powerful than you.

Sasuke knows you.

Sasuke knows your hands. Your hands, coordinated and fastidious in needlework and mending, warm and gentle in consoling an upset friend and caressing him into willing distraction. Those hands, as he observed, have also disarmed men more powerful than most with a complex hold. Blades fly from your hands with a flicker and a bend of air. A surge of chakra halves trees and shatters bone. His lips lift warmly at the feel of your calluses. He knows your hands. He knows the ruin and tenderness they could bring.

Sasuke knows your voice. He hears the radiance and softness you use with him and your friends. Even the lack of you speaking, holding your tongue when necessary, is a tactician’s move. He knows your voice can betray nothing, whether detailing a report to your superiors or debating for better support and protection for genin students. The fluidity of your voice can bring a council member down a notch, incite hesitancy in an S-Rank criminal, and soothe a child’s tears. This is the voice that hides fear under a mask of penetrating perceptivity and intellectual prowess. You sound as gentle as the ocean, but can morph into a persistent wave that will erode the strongest boulders into weak gravel.

Sasuke knows your walk. You’re gentle on your feet like he is, barely disturbing the ground beneath you even when you’re tired. He’s grown fond of seeing you reach on the tips of your toes for something, or land quietly on a branch. He has seen that walk change into one that makes a shinobi falter their fighting stance. No, there is not the sound of foreboding thumps on the ground at your approach. But, the swiftness of your arrival and departure, taking the consciousness of enemies before you is a bit more frightening because of something called underestimation.

Sasuke knows your eyes. The gentle squint because of your raised cheeks. The lashes he feels against his skin at night. Their openness and curiosity as they look into his eyes. Those eyes show acceptance and happiness towards him, and he is aware of the appreciation you furtively show to his physique. Those eyes pick up on the strain behind his own, giving unsaid comfort for thoughts he cannot express. He also knows the extent to which it absorbs surroundings. Holstered weapons on passersby, the rigidness of someone’s shoulders, the exchange of illicit materials near your preferred market. You remain quiet, meeting eyes with knowing that one more person knows something secretive.

Your delicacy mirrors his roughness, as the sun’s warmth soothes the moon’s frost. Your hands, as they rest on his back, mend and unfold muscles he didn’t know he tensed. In contrast, the directness of his voice as he corrects your stance while training you and the strength behind his sparring shows you his sincerity in helping you. As you both dress each other’s wounds, your touch is as remedying as your chakra, bringing him back to memories of his mother nursing scraped knees busted lips. His touch is heated and solid, firm but attentive, and brings you comfort in knowing you are protected willingly by a man who knows you don’t need it.

NSFW

With delicacy comes attentiveness and gentle handling, everything Sasuke needs when it comes to personal intimacy. Although having seen sexual activities at red light districts and dubious markets he encountered as a fugitive, he still has a rudimentary idea of sex. Based on what he saw, the depravity of it in these areas (and spotting a few paragraphs from his former sensei’s infamous book), it affirmed that it did not interest him more than it did most of his life. Even before he left the village, he had a dim interest in sexual topics thrown around before class, and dismissed the passing of lewd magazines during Warring States History class.

He finds people to be beautiful in the same way you find nature beautiful, not really ogling at breasts or legs. He appreciates your beauty in a whole way rather than specific parts of you.

Ideas of becoming intimate with you surfaced after a while, but he was hesitant to bring it up. It’s more likely you brought it up first and you both discussed it (though awkwardly).

He is nonchalant to the idea of sex, but he does have a steady libido which he equates to scratching an itch and releasing stress. Sex for him would be to give and receive sensual affection, and learn about each other in a different aspect.

Sasuke likes to have a routine when doing many things, including sex. He learns that you like his fingers to comb through your scalp, his staring at you from between your legs before beginning to taste you, how he holds your face in his hands. Predictability in this setting is best for him, so you make sure he is comfortable every step.

I feel that he is much more responsive to your hands massaging on his erogenous zones than directly on his sex. Trailing your fingers softly on his thighs, whisper against the folds of his ear, or kissing the insides of his wrist makes him shiver. Caressing him and embracing him closely gives him the most pleasure than outright handjobs.

Sasuke appreciates your patience with him. A lot. The lack of expectations you hold on him and the calmness you exude gives him peace.

Both of you don’t mind chasing non-penetrative release. Oral sex, slow grinding on his hips, and massaging is perfect for him. Mutual masturbation is an intimate way for him to watch you pleasure yourself and learn what you like from your movements.

Your gentility and skill at perceiving his small tics furthers your dynamic in the bedroom. You work slowly, watch him clench his jaw when you mead the muscles of his thighs. When he accepts your offer for oral pleasure, your deliberate slowness is what sends him over the edge. You look at him knowingly, calculating how to bring the most pleasure and understanding what he likes. You know the sensitivity he has when you cup him gently, or the sharp breath he takes when you hum while sucking repeatedly.

Sasuke enjoys you holding him after you two have sex, the air smelling like heat and salty sweat. You embrace him gently, affirming to him that you will always have him and care for him. As he holds you, you feel his endearment radiating off of him. Without words shared, you know he loves you, as you love him.

#sasuke #Sasuke Uchiha #uchiha sasuke #uchiha #Naruto Shippuden #naruto #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #Headcanon #headcanons #naruto imagines #free write #writing #imagines #imagine

107 notes · View notes

foxtailapp · 3 years

Text

All About Mental Health in BDSM Dating

This post is originally from Pleasure Uncensored by Foxtail. It can be found here.

BDSM dating can have an effect on a person's mental health. To understand, you must first understand what BDSM is.

What is BDSM Dating?

BDSM dating refers to dating in a subculture based on various rules and restrictions related to the interactions between people to meet sexual needs. BDSM stands for bondage, sadism, masochism, domination, and submission.

These concepts comprise three relationship pairs: BD - bondage and discipline, DS - Dominant- submissive, and SM - sadomasochism.

In general terms, BDs are time-limited sessions with a variety of practices and strict delineation of roles. Fixation, sensory deprivation, role-playing - all this refers to the BD. But, as a rule, this type of relationship with role-playing games and educational programs doesn't go beyond the bedroom.

DS assumes a prolonged transfer of power over all or (more often) some areas of life. Example: The big boss of the house is subordinate to his wife in everything, including the need to wear thongs with flowers and go to the gym. Submission and domination can be both in the bedroom and extended a lifetime.

SM is a painful stimulus to get pleasure. The sadist likes to torture, and the masochist enjoys to suffer.

The main thing to understand is the fundamental principles of BDSM; without rules, it can turn from an exciting game into ordinary violence.

A basic rule of BDSM is SSC which means Safe, Sane, and Consensual.

How do you interpret SSC in BDSM?

Safe = SECURITY.

All parties involved will make every effort to preserve their physical and mental health.

Sometimes it is complicated to avoid injuries: ropes pinch nerves, and blood vessels, games with breathing are fraught with suffocation, illiterate flogging leads to skin damage and internal organs. Thus, the main thing that a sane sadist starts with is the study of anatomy and safety.

Sane = MIND.

Life is not limited to games, and the participants in the process are adequate. This means you must have responsibility for what is happening, even if you are in a lower role. For example, the principle of safety in SM is impracticable without a sober assessment of one's own capabilities, regular monitoring of health status, and informing a partner about all potential problems.

Consensual = VOLUNTARY

Everything that happens, even the most painful and disgusting, happens according to an active and unequivocally expressed desire. This is one of the reasons why session scripts and practices are discussed in detail in advance. Otherwise, there can always be reticence, and game violence will turn into reality.

Who likes BDSM?

When psychologists began to study natural BDSM dating communities, a lot of exciting things turned out. People who practice BDSM are psychologically healthier than those around them. Typically they are more extroverted, more open to new experiences, less neurotic, and less prone to a range of mental disorders, for example, from depression to anxiety, paranoia, and (surprise!) pathological sadism.

According to various estimates, 20% of the world's population is inclined to BDSM. These people use bondage, masks, and blindfolds. Unlike paraphilias like fetishism, BDSM attracts both women and men equally. Participation in BDSM, as a rule, does not cover the experience of childhood trauma and violence.

BDSM practices do not interfere, and in some cases, even help establish close and trusting relationships between partners.

Most people view BDSM as reckless, dangerous, and unhealthy, a phenomenon whose representatives are allegedly mentally ill people. However, this is actually not the case: BDSM is just a sexual preference that can benefit health.

BDSM Dating and Mental Health

Recent research on BDSM and its effects on the body has shown excellent results. Scientists find no evidence of harm caused by the psychosocial subculture of BDSM, but they are finding that it does have health benefits.

Funny games of dominance and submission

How do BDSM practices affect the psyche?

In addition, researchers note that such practices can have a stimulating effect on self-awareness. For example, they connect the practice and mindfulness meditation, known to have beneficial effects on mental and physical health and reduce anxiety.

Apparently, pain during BDSM practices helps focus attention on the sensations we are experiencing and immerses us in a meditative state and thereby helps to relieve tension.

Studies of people practicing light BDSM practices did not reveal they have serious psychological problems. Moreover, in comparison with the control group, many respondents noted a higher level of subjective satisfaction with life. True, we are talking primarily about those who choose the dominant role or switch (they switch between dominant and submissive).

Those in the submissive (i.e., subordinate) position reported less life satisfaction compared to dominant people. This is another reason to always pay attention to the psychological state of the participants in the process - and if the practices are not enjoyable, they should definitely be abandoned.

Games of submission and domination require a certain level of intimacy. The willingness to trust a partner and allow himher to hurt himselfherself a little (with the ability to stop at the first signal), as expected, increases the level of trust in a stable pair.

A slight fear develops into more excitement and interest in a partner.

How can BDSM help?

Fans of complex games claim that some perversions help eliminate anxiety, momentary worries, an endless stream of thoughts from which the head is spinning.

Playing BDSM games involves the person in specific spaces that affect the person's state of consciousness.

What is sometimes called the "topspace" is a beautiful place characterized by focused attention, optimal performance, and loss of self-awareness. Try it yourself, see how much you will be focused on your partner and what is happening at the peak of arousal.

According to lovers of kinky sex, the whole room seems to disappear during their pleasures, leaving only the bed. Nevertheless, it is a poignant pleasure.

There is also an alternate state that most people know about as "subspace." It is a light sense of submission. This condition is characterized by a decrease in pain, tension, and a return to complete peace and serenity.

If you have had problems with your nervous system, BDSM dating can be a pleasant way to relieve symptoms.

Another life hack: if a person suffers from heightened emotionality, spanking can be used for therapeutic purposes. How does it work? Impact pain creates the conditions for emotional release, for example, tears. This can be an effective but temporary solution.

Should you try BDSM? It Depends.

It would be best if you were more honest with yourself. Leave the imposed moral principles, and try for a moment to imagine yourself in the role of master or subordinate. Undoubtedly, many have experienced a slight excitement from just the thought of this, which is not surprising.

A person does not have sex for procreation but for pleasure, so why not get the most of it? Role-playing games, toys from a sex shop, submission, and domination - all this variety in bed will help you get new sensations previously unknown. So when should you try BDSM?

Long-term marriage in which people no longer feel the need to make love. This phenomenon is widespread everywhere, and it's just that people have become boring to each other.

Lack of sex leads to moral and physical dissatisfaction, quarrels begin, and just everyday life becomes monotonous. To get a taste of life again, try BDSM.

Dissatisfaction with regular sex. Many people complain that they are not satisfied with the sex. So, it's time not just to change the position but sexual intercourse as a whole.

As we have already found out, BDSM allows you to get more aroused and get more pleasure from sex than an ordinary act.

Stress and depression will go away if you use BDSM. Partners will be able to throw out negative energy during dominance and submission. By the way, the role doesn't matter - dominants and submissives alike get rid of negativity, and gain pleasure.

So, what does BDSM mean?

This is a standard sexual practice used by many couples (polls have confirmed). So, nearly all people cannot have mental disorders (right?), which means that it is simply stupid to classify BDSM as a perversion. You have to ignore public opinion and give your desires to the fullest.

I recommend that you try this practice for a variety of relationships and mental relaxation. First, however, it is worth remembering a vital rule, BDSM is based on the voluntary consent of all parties involved.

To prepare for such an experience, resolve to participate and not be influenced by a partner.

2 notes · View notes