#the world is just as important as the plot itself and i think i like that more
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There’s a phrase I like to use when people question why, in fantasy series, people don’t just take the most efficient and ruthless option. I say, “This isn’t Game of Thrones.” Bluntly put, apart from having a very unsatisfying ending to its character arcs due to a realistic but very abrupt swing from the character arcs it had been building up (and in one notable case, a character arc that WAS built up the whole time, but not in a way people anticipated), Game of Thrones is most notorious for a very realpolitick approach to how the characters make their decisions.
Efficiency, immediate needs and ruthlessness regardless of personal qualms comes up a lot in what people seem to have taken from that show’s success, and you see a LOT of people thinking that pragmatic ruthlessness is the most basic and standard solution to any story’s problems, regardless of whether or not its consistent with a story’s given themes and morals.
The Avatar setting is NOT one of those. In this setting, spirituality is vitally important; the reason WHY things are done, as well as HOW they done, are just as important as the actual end result, if not more.
So, one thing I see a LOT in fandom circles (usually in bad takes floating around and being mocked by the circles I am adjacent to, or ideas popular among Big Name Fans who are kind of sheltered from the actual themes of the show itself and have distanced themselves from what the show is actually like in favor of what is functionally a completely original series that appeals to their own preferences) comes down to discussions arguing that AtLA would be better if Aang just took down every one he fought and killed them all without hesitation; there is a popular implication among these ideas that Aang is considered weak to them BECAUSE he doesn't want to kill. Because killing is anathema to his people, because the deliberate taking of life is a HUGE deal to both the Air Nomads and the real life religions that they are based on.
These takes conclude that none of that matters; that his morals and compunctions should just be immediately tossed aside in order to achieve his goals. There's usually something like 'who cares about spirituality when the world is so bad' or the ends justifying the means. And the thing is that we DO see characters in AtLA saying that, quite often. Characters who don't care about the spiritual consequences of their actions, who do whatever it takes to accomplish their goals.
They're the villains.
In AtLA, ruthlessness, pragmatism and 'whatever it takes to get what I want' is SPECIFICALLY and EXCLUSIVELY associated with the antagonists. General Fong; Azula, Ozai, the entirety of the Fire Nation... one thing they all have in common, besides opposing Aang, is that they're not just willing to be ruthless, they have no interest in achieving their goals or really doing anything at all without being ruthless and amoral about it. There's a common point in the narrative here, and I think the episode the Avatar State neatly sums it up through its story, as we are presented with Fong, who is seemingly an ally, demanding that they ignore the spiritual demands in favor of just weaponizing a force of nature no one involved really understands.
His emphasis on the people dying in the meantime does make for a potent image, but he is ultimately and frequently established as a ruthless jackass who cares more about trying to weaponize the Avatar State (and mere mortals do not get to have a say in its decisions or what the World Spirit, in its fullest power, wants to do). Apart from this indicating a more or less full departure from a strict moral binary within the series, there's also an emphasis on Katara growing increasingly uncomfortable with the non-spiritual plan they're taking, to the point that she won't have anything to do with it, and she is very much the show's heart. If she disapproves of something with plot relevance, its usually a bad sign.
So this whole THING you have with people going 'everything would be better if Aang killed everyone immediately except for the secret Good Guys even though he has absolutely no way of knowing them out of context'... its genuinely really bewildering and I think its kind of proof of people not engaging with the show's themes or ethics, but assuming that ruthlessness and efficiency are the default way of handling everything. AtLA is not subtle about this and if you think that the show at any point suggests that this is a likely outcome, I don't think you're really engaging with it, or you're misunderstanding the context (such as the Ocean Spirit rampaging being framed as a last second moment of hope; I think people conflate its destruction as generally a Cool Thing, rather than the world itself protecting a dying culture from near certain destruction as the moon itself is... well, dead.)
(There's also a protagonist-centered morality in that they seem to want their characters to BE rather amoral, being all about love and acceptance and tolerance but also brutally and remorselessly kill everyone in their way without hesitation, and the people making these statements don't see any kind of logical flaw. I dunno but that's WEIRD to me.)
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I've seen people saying that this season marks a transition from serious with silly elements to silly with serious elements (particularly after the 1st 2 eps) but now that we've had a lot more of the season, I think this is wrong. This season isn't silly with serious elements, it's a serious season wearing the mask of a silly season.
Spoilers under cut
Space Babies looks like it's just "lol babies running space station, lol snot monster, lol farting space ship" at face value, but there's a lot more to unpack from how The Doctor relates the Bogeyman and being the only one of his kind to the underlying themes of abortion legislation and honestly a lot more to unpack than I don't have the brain power to write rn.
Devil's Chord keeps the silly tone, but destroys the world and does some important foreshadowing about Ruby and The One Who Waits. This is the one that leans most into the silliness, but it has the stakes to work with this analysis.
The plot of Boom is "The Doctor steps on a glowy land mine" which is a hilarious sentence and the next time preview for it was absolutely left us with a lot of questions pertaining to how that was going to be a full episode, but it ended up being a thesis on how organised religion, capitalism and war are some of greatest threats to humanity and they all make each other worse. Boom is played straight for pretty much the whole episode, but it looks like a pretty silly premise before you watch it.
The 73 Yards next time preview, whilst creepy, made the episode look a lot cheesier than it ended up being and they ran with this until the reveal that the pub goers were just messing with Ruby, after which we don't get any more stuff like uncomfortable close ups or characters expositing about local folk lore. The horror b-movie is a lie.
And now Dot and Bubble. The brightest episode of the season has the darkest ending so far. At first glance it certainly looks a lot sillier than it is with its bug-eyed monsters and "phone bad" aesthetic. This episode is all about deception. Ricky lies about the home world, Lindy lies about Ricky being alive, but there's more. The residents of Fine Time get the lie of Fine Time. The whole thing is about them looking past a vale to see what's really going on around them. The Doctor and Ruby get the lie that they will save these people. They go in, they try to help and the get cooperation for a bit, but the rich kids' pride and prejudice stops them. We as the audience receive the lie that these characters could be saved in the first place. The episode sets itself up to have a hopeful ending where the rich kids start learning to improve themselves as people in a new home that the Doctor brought them to. We get so focused on that narrative structure that we don't step back and look at the bigger picture. These people think they're so amazing because they don't waste resources with their consumerism and they have followers and they're stuck in a n environment that affirms their egos yet they can't even walk without their bubbles and they mostly get annoyed when the disappearances get brought up. Their egos are so overinflated and they're so used to being in an environment where they can only talk to other people who think and act like them, of course they're not going with the Doctor. They'll use him as long as they think they need him but they refuse to accept that they can't do anything by themselves if they're not in absolute immediate danger because they think they're so amazing. This feels like it should have a somber ending where we mourn the losses and look to a brighter future in the moment because of the tone and structure, but take a step back from it and there was no other way it was going to end.
This whole season has been a tonal lie that's been breaking down as we go and I really hope they do something cool with that idea.
#dr who#doctor who#dr who spoilers#doctor who spoilers#Maybe I'm just tired#but I feel good about this#This could possibly fit into the trapped in a tv show theory#or many other theories tbf#idk I just like doing analysis I'll let you lot come to the conclusions
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hi im ranting (positively! this game kills me but in a good way) about breath of the wild again
i know it's controversial but i love the way the story of the game is told. because you start the game in the middle, perhaps near the end, of the story. the game is entirely through link's perspective and he wakes up knowing and remembering nothing. in turn, the player starts off knowing nothing. the past is revealed as the story goes along, and the player learns about the past and about the land as link does. there are little tidbits about hyrule and about the calamity scattered across the land. an old woman in hateno village tells you of an age of desolation that she grew up in. the travellers you see on the road are younger people because they're described by older characters as more bold, whereas the older characters grew up being told to never leave the village, it's too dangerous outside (compare this even to tears of the kingdom, where travellers are more common because the land has been safer. even older characters have left their home to travel elsewhere (not including the lurelin villagers)). battlefields are still strewn with old rusty weapons and deactivated guardians that no one but monsters will go near. myths and legends about the princess and hero have been passed down, to the point where their legitmacy is questioned and everyone has a different opinion on them.
it's environmental storytelling. it's things like seeing drawings and a bow in zelda's study and seeing a child reading a storybook with a hero that wears a blue tunic similar to link's. it's the stories that the villagers share about old myths that turn out to be true. it's the ruins scattered across the land, long since overtaken by monster camps but still unmistakably being houses that people once lived in. it's the utter lack of civilization anywhere remotely near the castle and the feeling of dread in the ruins of the town that surrounds it. it's a kingdom entrenched in its past, with no ability to move away from it until the calamity is finally defeated.
#head into the wall. i love this game so much#legend of zelda#breath of the wild#and no i dont hate totk for getting rid of the sheikah tech and replacing it with zonai tech#the zonai tech is foreign and new to the people of hyrule and theyre EXCITED about it#how many zonai researchers are there in totk vs how many sheikah researchers in botw?#people are wary of the technology that destroyed their home a century ago#and they're terrified of the guardians that still roam the land#i still hold that link likely was behind the reason why the shrine of resurrection was completely dismantled#it's kinda like majora's mask in which half of the story is in the side quests and the characters#mm had a plot yeah but it kind of accompanied the rest of the setting#link had a goal but he also had so many people to talk to#botw is similar. link has a goal in mind but he's also one to help others#and if someone literally just lost their chickens or if their husband is sick and needs medicine. he's willing to help them out#the world is just as important as the plot itself and i think i like that more#than just a linear plot which is accompanied by the world#botw totk and mm reward you for exploring#(along with some of the others like twilight princess and a link between worlds)#but it's very different i think when half of the game is about exploring#or more than half even. you have your goal but you have to get there first#and there are so many ways you can get there and so much you can encounter along the way#biting screaming crying#the bow is in zelda's room but close enough
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I can’t believe they made me prefer Shyamalan’s adaptation. I can’t believe they’ve done this to me.
#like he did a bad job but he at least tried something#he failed but he was definitely aiming for something I can appreciate#the new one just took out all agency and everything important about each character#I’m not even talking about sokkas sexism#although that also shows a huge misunderstanding of the original to think that that needed to be taken out to update it#I’m talking about aang not even being allowed the flaw of running away from being the avatar and being a scared kid#he just goes out to fly around a while to like clear his head and gets caught in a storm???#pro tip if your plot is driven by coincidence it is a Bad Plot#him being a kid and being dragged into this world and responsibility is like Important and Good to explore#and also they didn’t they didn’t even get rid of silks being sexist btw they just don’t call it what it is#which is WORSE#he still thinks katara can’t fight or protect the village but all the boys can#they try to frame it like it’s just about leadership?? oh yeah?? why does he think he should be a leader and katara shouldn’t?#whats that called?#and yue works in the kitchen now to be more relatable?#they took the sexism out of his plot line and put it into the show itself#I need to stop adding tags but I could literally go on all day#I’m not precious about adaptations#it’s fine to change things#but if all the changes you make are just removing characters’ agency and growth and the POINT of them#those are Bad Changes#you did it Wrong#also they literally CLUNG to tell don’t show as a guiding principle#they didn’t do the most basic storytelling once#not once did they show something to us instead of just telling us what we’re meant to think over and over#first episode includes about five retellings of the opening monologue#aang TELLING gyatsu that he’s playful instead of once just showing him goofing off#this is fucking storytelling 101#all that to say the movie is terrible but it’s like funny and more like a failed attempt at something decent#this series is more like a successful execution of a bad approach to the story and I think that’s worse
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been seeing some stuff on blue eye samurai and big yikes to nearly everyone pushing extremely western ideals onto these characters.
this is early edo period. 1600s. the japan you know now did not exist yet.
yall. please. there was NO concept of sexuality in pre-modern japan. that came with both the influx of christianity and western influence very very late in history. like, mid-1800s. (yes, there was christianity pre-1800s but it was not a widespread idea yet and wouldn't be until about the 1800s since, y'know, missionaries were routinely murdered before then)
"so and so is either bi and hasn't figured it out yet or..." no. that isn't how it worked then. nobody gave a shit what was between your legs. anyone could be attracted to anyone else. it was a little more common for male homosexual relationships to be between an adult and younger male - like many other places around the world - but two adult men could bang and love each other just as easily. relationships between women were quite common - especially since so many men were often away at war. there's tons of pornographic prints from the time depicting all manner of fun queer relationships. sex itself had absolutely no moral assignment to it. good sex was good health. it didn't matter who with. (well, social class/caste mattered more than anything else tbh but that didn't stop upper and lower class from fucking.)
that isn't to say people didn't have preferences. of course they did. that is human nature. preferences arose more from physical appearance, caste, and circumstances with gender being about the last thing one would look for in a partner - romantic, casual, or otherwise. the only role in sex where gender actually mattered was for procreation.
there would be no queer awakening moment, no sudden switch flipped, no stigma to have internal conflicts about because it simply did not exist as a concept whatsoever. you were either attracted to a person or you weren't, it was that simple. gender played no role when it came to sex and sexual attraction. the japanese were lightyears ahead of western cultures in this particular area - like most cultures were before christianity came in and ruined everything with its backwards morals and strict good/evil dichotomy.
yall have got to realize queer rep will not and should not always adhere by modern western standards.
there was no straight, gay, bi, or anything else of the sort. the closest they ever got was referring to roles during sex - as in who is giving and who is receiving.
i know this is mostly a made up story but it is still set within a very specific time period and culture, which should be honored and respected by not making it fit into our box. tons of research went into making this show historically accurate (albeit with some discrepancies but tbh they aren't really that huge) right down to the calligraphy writing. please please please don't whitewash the culture from these characters.
i say this mainly because without this knowledge, so many of you are going to build these characters up on a foundation they aren't meant to be on and then you'll rage about queerbaiting and bad queer rep if it isn't somehow super explicitly stated, if it doesn't match your very modern, very western ideal of what queer looks like. don't try to force this plot and narrative and characters into something they canonically and historically aren't. headcanons are a thing, AUs are a thing, fanfiction is a thing - leave your western thinking for those and let these characters simply exist as they should otherwise. this is one of those times where the queerness really does not need to be examined at all beyond what we get.
i know it can be hard to wrap your head around - sexuality is such a huge part of our identity in the western world and has slowly started to spread amongst other parts of the world in importance. but just keep in mind with these particular characters, that concept would be so very alien to them.
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Split Decision
* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ i woke up this morning w a slutty, feral, urgent need for some soukoku x fem!reader smut and this fic just kinda poured out of me (literally), 3.7k words. porn with a plot. (hope u like it nasty) you're an intern, ending your last day in Yokohama when you're approached at the hotel bar by two men who have one very pressing question for you: red or white wine? i was melting into an actual puddle writing this so lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ (and as alwaaayysss, thank u to the loml @bratbby333 for proofreading and being just as fucking pumped for this to come out as i was ♡) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
You were tired, exhausted after a day filled with meetings that you barely contributed anything to. You were grateful for your internship, happy that it held the promise of a job right after graduation but being in Yokohama for the last two days had been a bit lackluster.
You sat at the bar of your hotel with lazy, muffled jazz music dancing around you as you fiddled with the straw in your empty cocktail glass.
The trip itself hadn't been all bad. The days were long, but you'd managed to make the most of your nights. The firm you were interning for was gracious enough to make it an all-expenses paid trip and you'd definitely taken full advantage of that over the last week.
You'd spent your nights in the most upscale restaurants the city had to offer, taking yourself on little dates to pass the time. You'd found yourself sitting alongside powerful businessmen and prominent executives that made you feel important even though you were still very much on the outskirts of their social circles. You had been a fly on the wall, quietly observing a world that you could only hope to one day be a part of.
It'd been a learning experience if nothing else. A secret glimpse into how rich men behaved when they thought no one was watching. There was something intoxicating about it all. Something that made you want to try harder when you got back home. You were determined to have this sort of life for yourself one day and you would.
That's what made being responsible tonight all the more important. Your flight back home was set to leave at 6 am. Your bags were already packed and waiting for you in your room. As tempting as it was to venture out into the city again, you needed to be well-rested and level-headed when you woke up tomorrow. So, you'd kept your promise to yourself and settled on slipping into your last clean black dress and grabbing a few drinks at the hotel bar to end your makeshift vacation.
Your legs dangled from your stool, the strap of your dress slipping down your arm as you yawned. The bar had been mostly vacant all night. People passing by, but never actually staying for more than one drink. The vintage grandfather clock at the corner of the room watched you tauntingly, another sway of its heavy arms indicating that it was nearing midnight.
You knew it was time to head back. Your hand reached out to bell for the bartender when two opposing, but equally powerful drinks were suddenly placed at either side of you.
A deep, rich red wine on your left and a deceptively alluring white wine on your right. Your eyes hesitantly drifted between the two men that were now occupying the seats next to you, the warmth of their bodies radiating off of them as they sized you up.
"Which one will it be, angel?" His voice was like velvet, a dangerous smirk creeping across his face as his brown eyes met you. His partially bandaged fingertips slowly pushed the Chardonnay towards you. "You look like a woman of good taste. Honestly, I think you'd like this one much better."
A gloved hand rested on the small of your back, gently turning you around to face him instead. His disheveled red hair and azure gaze were hard to ignore as he nudged the Cabernet closer to you. "Tch, you're too pretty for that cheap shit." He smirked. "Besides, I bet you're wantin' something that would hit way deeper than that, right?"
Your breath was suddenly lodged in your throat, an ache burning between your legs at the sheer shamelessness of it all.
The brunette's smile was piercing, his stare slicing into the man on your left as he let out a low laugh. "You've always had quite the imagination, haven't you Chuuya?" His eyes maintained the same sharpness, dragging back to yours with fervor. "I think what she really needs is something that would leave her begging for more and that's not something that measly little sweet red of yours would do."
The air between the three of you was suddenly suffocating.
You crossed one leg over the other, finding yourself actually having to clench while they carried on with their salaciously threatening banter. Their fingers roaming along your back and the top of your hand. Both inching closer and closer, still spilling out corrupt little nothings about which one would taste better going down your throat and which one would fill you up until there was no more room left.
You needed to be in bed. You needed to keep your wits about you. You needed to tell them both that you didn't have time for this, but your insides were on fire the harder they fought over you.
After being ignored at every meeting you'd gone to this week and being nothing more than a wallflower at the dinner parties you'd attended, having two admittedly depraved but attractive men competing over you like this was enough to make you forget about trivial things like time and responsibilities.
They were still going on. Still gently petting and praising you while their insults towards each other grew heavier and headier.
Your blood rushed through your veins as you looked down at the contrasting wines sitting in front of you. You knew the minute that you took a sip of either, your fate would be sealed for the night. You'd be declaring yourself to one of them. The only smart option you had would be to push both drinks aside, to choose yourself, and to leave the two of them to carry on with their degenerate rivalry with the next unsuspecting girl that waltzed in here.
But you weren't going to settle for either.
As you glanced between them, it dawned on you that there was an alternate, much more menacing 4th option at your disposal.
Their voices came to a pause when they noticed your hand finally raise, hovering directly in the center of the two glasses. Your eyes danced from the brunette back to Chuuya, a hazy smile pulling at the corner of your mouth despite the fact that your heart felt like it was capable of ripping straight through your chest at any given second.
You rested your palm over both, letting your middle finger slide into the Cabernet and your index finger slide into the Chardonnay in perfect unison.
The tension was palpable as they watched you slowly pull out and bring them to your lips. You cocked your head to the side, your tongue generously gliding against the mixture of red and white before you brought them all the way into your mouth, spit slightly dribbling down your chin while you looked between the two men.
A smile cut across your face as you noticed the two sets of blown out pupils staring back at you. "Does that answer your question?"
"No," Chuuya was the first to break the silence. "No fuckin' way am I letting that asshole anywhere near the same room as us."
But it only seemed to pique the brunette's interest more.
A grin that could rival that of the devil's began to pull at the corner of his mouth. "Oh c'mon, Chuuya. You're really gonna deny this angel what she wants?"
"Don't start with me, Dazai." he snarled, his eyes softening a bit when they reached yours. "Look, I'd love to fuck you, but -"
Dazai took full advantage of the redhead's decision to opt out, spinning your barstool towards him so that your back was abruptly facing Chuuya before he could even finish his sentence. "Well," he smirked with a dangerous sense of wit in his voice. "Guess that just leaves us then."
"Wait a minute, that's not how this works!" Your chair was once again being flung in the opposite direction. A gloved hand gently cupping yours as he tried to reason with you. "You're gorgeous, y'know that, right? Even if you end up leavin' by yourself, I promise it'd still be better than endin' up with that mackerel over there."
It should've been an insult. In fact, you were certain that it was an insult, but for some deranged reason, it made Dazai all the more persistent to get you what you had originally asked for.
"Okaaay, okaayy." He conceded as he stood up. "There's no need for petty nicknames. If you're too self-conscious to share a beautiful woman's body with me, that's all you have to say."
"Self-conscious?" The edge in Chuuya's tone only gave Dazai what he wanted. "I'm not self-conscious, you arrogant bastard. I just don't trust you."
Dazai leaned into your ear, his hand shielding his mouth though his voice was far from a whisper. "It's because of his height, I'm afraid. Quite sad really."
"Alright, cut the shit." It was enough to finally bring the redhead to his feet.
He stood up, grabbing your hand to help you off your chair, eyes now locked firmly with yours. "You really want us to fuck you?" He asked, completely ignoring the absolutely vile smirk Dazai was sporting.
A mix of fear and arousal pooled between your thighs as you realized that this was your one chance to back out.
You looked between the two of them one last time before promptly grabbing the drinks that were left on the counter and knocking them both back one right after the other.
"My room or yours?" You asked.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
The three of you had ended up in Chuuya's suite which was at least three times the size of your room. It was lofty, decorated with high-rise windows that were covered by thick, black privacy curtains. His king-sized bed made up in pristine white sheets that you feared would soon be ripped to shreds with the way the two of them could barely share the same elevator without almost killing each other, let alone share you.
Chuuya took off his gloves and hung his coat in the closest next to Dazai's as you slipped out of your heels and left them by the door. Your heart was suddenly in your throat now that you were actually here.
You were still by the entryway, not entirely sure how this was going to start while Chuuya went around and began dimming the lights, making a snide comment about how the less he had to see of Dazai, the better. The brunette just smirked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, motioning for you to join him.
He spread his legs, lightly guiding you to stand in front of him as he kissed the back of your hand. His brown eyes trailed over you intently, his slender fingers tracing along the curve of your hip. "No need to be nervous," he whispered, tangling his free hand into yours.
There was something so tantalizing about the way he was looking at you. Eager but thorough, like he wanted to memorize every single inch of you. "See how pretty she is, Chuuya?"
You felt him approach you from behind, his calloused hands holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail while his breath fanned across the top of your shoulder. "Care if I unzip this?" he asked, his lips pressing softly against the side of your neck as you nodded. He continued to kiss and nip at you, carefully dragging the zipper down your spine before letting it fall to the floor.
"Fuck."
It was perhaps the one thing that they'd agreed on all night.
Dazai had the full-frontal view of you and Chuuya had the back. You were on full display for them both due to the fact that you'd opted for no bra or panties when you'd left your room earlier, thinking that you'd be coming straight back anyway. What a lie that had turned out to be.
Dazai's hand roamed along your stomach, goosebumps dancing across your skin as his fingertips dipped a bit lower. Chuuya's mouth was still on the nape of your neck, his grip tightening around your hips, drawing the poutiest little whimpers out of you.
"And to think you almost made us pass this up." Dazai taunted. "That would've been suuuch a shame."
"Shut up." Chuuya grunted, pulling you closer so that your ass was flushed perfectly against him. Your back arched feeling how hard he was, another little noise you couldn't quite control escaping you.
Dazai raised an eyebrow at this, realizing how easy it was to make you squirm.
"Oh, our girl's sensitive, isn't she?" He smirked, his fingers making their way to your center, just barely touching the outside of your folds. "Hmm," He hummed, surveying your desperate, dripping cunt. "What kind of sounds do you think she'll make if I do this?"
His finger ran along your clit, only giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation before he immediately plunged it inside of you.
"Nngh ~!" You whined, ramming yourself further into Chuuya's bulge. He held you steady, stuck somewhere between severely hating that Dazai had made you moan like that and fucking loving that you did it while grinding against him.
"Aw, look at that. I think she likes you, Chuuya." Dazai mocked, sliding into you again without warning, jealousy washing over him at how you were holding onto the redhead for support.
He went deeper, adding in another finger, to redirect your attention down to him as you mewled. "Feel good, angel?" he asked through heavy lashes.
You nodded back at him so pitifully, it made him groan, rubbing his thumb against your clit as his other two digits continued their assault on you.
You felt Chuuya undoing his belt behind you, his pants quietly dropping to the ground.
"You're doing so good," he praised into the softness of your neck, stroking himself with one hand and palming at your chest with the other. Squeezing a nipple between his fingers as you filled the room with more heavenly noises. "Think you can do me a favor, baby?" His voice felt like blissful static against the shell of your ear.
"M -" you struggled, your eyes nearly crossing at Dazai relentlessly hitting your g-spot. "Mhmmm." you finally managed.
"Can you bend over f'me?"
You tried your best to comply, but Dazai wasn't making it easy. In fact, he was making it impossible. Every time you tried to move, he'd go deeper, practically pulling you towards him from the inside with the curl of his long fingers.
Your vision was blurry, your body forgetting how to move altogether as the two men fought over you like you were a toy that they were willing to break in half as long as it meant the other person couldn't have it anymore.
"I -" you whined, noticing the absolutely feral smirk spread across Dazai's face. "I'm gonna - fuck, I can't -"
As much as Chuuya wanted to murder him for making you cum first, he knew his turn was next and he was going to fuck you into oblivion. "I've got you." he breathed, still playing with your nipple and holding you in place. "You're okay, baby. Let it out. Oh, just like that. Good fuckin' girl."
Dazai panted as you soaked his fingers, greedily trying to draw another one out of you before Chuuya intervened. "Alright, enough." he said, carefully pulling you away from him. "Here." he said, guiding you so that your ass was arched up for him and your face was on the mattress.
He was just about to put it in when Dazai stopped him, swiftly wriggling himself out of his pants before sitting on the edge of the bed again and placing your head above his dick.
Chuuya ran a frustrated hand over his face, the last fucking thing he wanted to see was your pretty mouth wrapped around Dazai while he was inside of you, but he knew he didn't have a choice.
"Be easy on her," he warned him.
You looked up at Dazai with glazed over eyes as he smiled down at you, proud of his work. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, right angel?"
Your pussy throbbed at the way he was able to make such a reassuring question feel so sinister.
His cock was long and thick and you were quickly realizing just how hard it was going to be to not choke on it. You started off slow, letting him tangle his hand into your hair as you lolled your tongue out and pressed it against him.
"Oh, fuck." Dazai groaned watching you make your way up to his tip, graciously opening your mouth wider to accommodate him.
Chuuya was wildly annoyed but not at all surprised at how vocal Dazai was. He blocked it out by rubbing his tip between your folds, reeling in the way your back arched for him as he softly massaged your abused little clit.
You were moaning, doing your best not to lose your concentration from how intoxicatingly tender Chuuya was handling you.
Whereas Dazai had practically bullied an orgasm out of you, Chuuya was prepared to play the long game. He'd fuck you slow and deep for hours if that's what you wanted. He was determined to make you feel so good you wouldn't be able to remember any other words besides his name.
Once he was satisfied with how wet both of you were from your cum, Chuuya lined himself up with your entrance. "You ready baby?"
"Y - yes." You struggled, Dazai only letting you come up for air for a second before your head was promptly pushed back down again.
You whimpered, completely forgetting what you were doing when Chuuya entered you. His cock stretching you out more than you knew you were capable of. "Oh - mygod." You choked out, eyes pleading as you looked back at Dazai.
Surprisingly, he wasn't jealous. Wasn't instantly shoving your head back down to get you to focus on him. He was in a euphoric daze seeing how fucked-out you looked. Your eyes were full-on watering, your pussy wrapped so tight and snug around Chuuya.
Dazai's grip in your hair lightened, pulling you up but only so he could watch you from a better angle. He held your head in one hand and began stroking himself with the other. "Oh, angel. You love being fucked like that, don't you?"
You nodded pathetically, completely overstimulated by the feeling of Chuuya pounding into you and the beautiful sight of Dazai jerking himself off to you getting railed. "Say it." He smirked. "Use your words."
Chuuya groaned, it was the first time all night that he wasn't tuning Dazai out. His hips thrusted into you harder as you whined. "I - love." Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at how deep Chuuya suddenly was. "I love - it." You cried out. "I love it so fu - cking much."
Chuuya wasn't sure if Dazai was trying to hurt or help him by coaxing such depraved things out of you, but he was lost in the sound of your moans.
Your legs began to shake, your cunt pulsating as Chuuya's tip knocked against your cervix. "I -" your head shook, you felt like you were going to pass out. "I can't - s'too much, I'm gonna -"
"Let me feel it, baby." It was almost more of a beg than a command. "Let me feel that pretty pussy soak my cock."
Dazai's breathing hitched in his throat watching the two of you. The tears that were spilling down your pretty face and the guttural noises you were forcing out of the redhead so effortlessly. The way neither one of you were coherent anymore, too lost in the way your bodies were aching for one another to know anything else.
Dazai wasn't sure why it was doing this to him. Wasn't sure why he couldn't stop himself, but just as you started to cum, he did too. He shoved your mouth back around him, reveling in the shock and pleasure and absolute awe on your face as you swallowed every last drop he shot into your mouth.
Your body felt like it was convulsing. The three of you had somehow all managed to reach your climax in perfect, lewd, synchronicity. Dazai's cum was pooling down your chin while Chuuya filled you up from behind. A combination of both of your fluids mixing together and then squirting out of you when he finally pulled out with a heavy, "Oh, FUCK."
You collapsed into Dazai's lap, your legs refusing to hold you. Chuuya helped pull you up onto the bed as the three of you fell into the mattress with a thud. You laid in the middle of them, your head rested peacefully against Dazai's chest as you tried to stop the room from spinning.
"And you told me to go easy on her." Dazai mused, running his fingers through your hair.
Chuuya rolled over on his side, wrapping his arm around your waist as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck. "'Least I didn't get off watching her get railed by another dude." he sneered.
"Yeah, you're right." Dazai tsked, "Only thing that could've made it better is if it was by a taller man."
"Dazai, I swear to god -"
But their bickering came to a quick end when you began to shift against them.
"Hey," you mumbled dreamily, causing both of them to immediately revert back to petting you and leaving light kisses along your skin. "Could you shut the fuck up? I've gotta be up at 5 tomorrow to catch my flight."
Chuuya smirked and set an alarm on his phone. Truthfully, he was willing to let you talk to him however you wanted with what you'd done to him tonight.
He reluctantly pulled the comforter up over the three of you. As much as he didn't want Dazai in his room for another minute, you looked too content to move.
You had never felt more safe or secure than you did being smushed between the two of them. Their words were hazy as you began to doze off, two sets of strong arms wrapped around you.
"Y'know, I think I'll kinda miss her." Chuuya breathed.
"Me too," Dazai smiled, looking down at you. "She's our girl."
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
#i wrote this in a DAY someone pls take my laptop away#rem writes#soukoku#soukoku x reader#dazai smut#chuuya nakahara#chuuya smut#bsd smut#bsd x reader#dazai osamu#dazai x reader#bsd dazai#nakahara chuuya x reader#bsd chuuya#bsd
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The Final Fifteen is about Terry Pratchett's Death
read on Ao3
The final fifteen is obviously a major plot point, and serves a role in a story that was written long before Terry Pratchett was ever diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. But the scene itself wasn’t written until just a few years ago, during the writing of Season 2. In fact, the scene came about during a park bench conversation between Neil Gaiman and John Finnemore.
Others have noted that the non-romantic kiss that signals the story moving into the third act is a Neil Gaiman staple. The function of such a kiss, from Gaiman’s perspective, is to communicate.
In 2023 we are seeing a lot of stories written by men, for men, about men who are best friends and discover that their friendship can go deeper than the norms of society would usually allow; that platonic and romantic love are not so far apart, and perhaps the better word for a relationship that can be described this way is intimacy.
Neil Gaiman has made it clear in interviews that his friendship with Terry Pratchett was deeply intimate. They began collaborating on what would become Good Omens in the 1980’s, endured a tumultuous experience together through the first publication, wherein Neil offered to martyr himself on behalf of Terry if the book failed, and then spent the better part of two decades touring the world, meeting the people who loved their work. Neil would even off-handedly remark that Terry’s fans were so cheerful, and Neil’s seemed like they were ready to kill themselves; wouldn’t it be nice if they got married? From the outside, it looks very much as if Terry was Aziraphale-coded, and Neil was Crowley-coded, working together in an unexpected partnership to make the world a little bit more tolerable for the humans inhabiting it. I am not conjecturing that Neil and Terry had romantic inclinations the way their fictional characters do, but I think it is fair to say that their opposites-attract intimacy became an important part of who each of them were.
In 2007 Terry Pratchett was diagnosed with posterior cortical atrophy, a rare form of Alzheimer’s. As the disease progressed, he began to lose himself, and knew that the person he used to be was slipping away. He wanted to end his life on his own terms, and die as himself, but England did not and still does not allow for voluntary euthanasia or assisted suicide. He advocated for the right to die but never achieved it, and ultimately succumbed to the disease in 2015. Neil Gaiman has spoken a lot on the topic of death, and one answer of his that resonated with me reads:
Mostly it feels terrible. It even feels terrible when it’s someone who has been in a lot of pain for a long time or has not really been there for a long time and you know that Death has in some ways been a blessing: suddenly you are mourning the whole person.
It doesn’t get easier as you age. It gets stranger. The point where you realise how many people you used to know and like who aren’t there any longer, and you cannot talk to them or see them or laugh with them is painful in a way that I had never expected. The first time that someone you had a romantic relationship with dies and you realise that there had been moments both of you shared and now you are the sole custodian of those moments and one day you will be gone and they will be lost forever is peculiarly strange and hard.
~~~
The entire show is seeded with references to Terry Pratchett, but the most important one is the one that’s missing. Neil Gaiman cameoed as a sleeping moviegoer in S1E4, but a long time ago, he and Terry had discussed cameoing as sushi restaurant-goers, because sushi was weirdly prominent in the book. That cameo would have been in S1E1. But when it came time to do it, Neil couldn’t. Not without Terry.
Neil: I was gonna say our location is a Chinese restaurant we’d had turned into a sushi restaurant. So Terry and I, Terry Pratchett and I, had a standing… not even a standing joke, just a standing plan, that we were going to have sushi - there was going to be a scene in Good Omens where sushi was eaten and we were gonna be extras, we were gonna sit in the background, eating sushi while it was done. And I was so looking forward to this and, so I wrote this scene with it being sushi, even though Terry was gone, with that in mind and I thought: Oh, I’ll sit and I’ll eat lots of sushi as an extra, this will be my scene as an extra, I’ll just be in the background. And then, on the day, or a couple of days before, I realized that I couldn’t do it.
Douglas: You never told me this before either. I might have pushed you into doing it, had I known. I think you were right not to tell me.
Neil: I was keeping it to me self ‘cause I was always like: Oh, maybe I’ll be… this will be my cameo. And then I couldn’t. I was just so sad, ‘cause Terry wasn’t there. And it was probably the day that I missed Terry the most of all of the filming - it was just this one scene ‘cause it was written for Terry and all of the sushi meals we’d ever had and all of the strange way that sushi ran through Good Omens.
~~~
In the Final Fifteen, it is clear that Crowley and Aziraphale want to stay together. They love each other. They each know that the other loves them. There’s nothing that needs to be said, no convincing that their bond is true and real and precious.
But Aziraphale has to go to Heaven, and Crowley cannot follow him there.
I cannot speculate what it must have been like for Neil to endure losing a friend who, though I’m sure he desperately wanted to still be in his life, he also knew that life had become a burden to him, and grieved that Terry was not able to choose the time and manner of his departure from this Earth. This sort of complex grief, we fan-ficcers know, is the kind that is often best processed through story-telling.
I think that what we see Crowley going through in the Final Fifteen, alongside its importance to the story arc of Good Omens overall, is Neil processing his grief at losing his friend Terry Pratchett, and even the kiss, that violent, terrible, awful kiss, was the symbolic representation of Neil saying goodbye.
#neil gaiman#terry pratchett#aziraphale#crowley#good omens#good omens 2#good omens meta#ivoc#this meta ended up being only about 2/3 the length of my usual metas and somehow that feels appropriate because Terry's life ended too soon#and the jarring brevity of this piece parallels that feeling of sudden unexpected loss#for me anyways I don't know about you guys#if this made your eyes even slightly moist you are obligated to reblog to help someone else feel their feels#I don’t make the rules#but them is the rules#blessed by Beelzebub
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This might sound strange... writing a romance I started to see romantic potential between my lead and a side character, rather than strictly between the two leads... I'm starting to swerve. How can I suit my writing/mindset to keep the relationship with the side character platonic?
When characters develop minds of their own...
Writing is one of those mediums where people tend to overlook the importance of experimentation. It's seen as a fairly linear process: brainstorm, map the plot, write the draft, edit the draft, publish. If any other type of creation was done this way, most would see the process as incomplete, because experimentation is imperative to creativity. Curiosity is the key to finding satisfaction, and no matter how brilliant you think an idea is at its conception, the best way to do it justice is to question it.
If you find yourself in a situation where your story begins to develop outside your control, don't strangle it back into the shape you imagined for it at first. See where it goes. Let it bleed outside the lines and see what you prefer. You can always return to the original plan. The beauty in fiction is that it has infinite possibility, and if you have the talent to write characters and worlds that determine their own trajectory, enjoy the reward.
In your case, you've designed a romance between two characters but the chemistry of a different pairing has become more compelling, so see what happens. There is a good chance you've simply written a secondary character that serves the story better in a leading role, and there's no harm in experimenting to see if that's correct. If it doesn't work and you're convinced the relationship is more suitable in the platonic category, you will find the reason along the way and that reason will speak for itself as you return to writing the original pairing. If anything, this might become an organic way for you to misdirect the reader in order to make the payoff of your original idea more substantial.
Writing should be an intuitive process. If you're swerving in another direction, satiate your curiosity and then make decisions with all of the information. Just like any other artistic medium, you will only know what's right once you've established what isn't.
Best of luck,
x Kate
#writing#writeblr#writespo#writing advice#authorblr#qna#romance#plot development#editing#character development#character relationships
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the way you write is so beautiful... tips for somebody new to writing who wants to write like you?
YOU are so beautiful, thank you so much! im not sure about any tips i have, but ill give it a shot. these are what i personally believe to have been the most important things:
find your wavelength
my writing became a lot more stylized and personalized after i found an author that i resonated with, as well as a couple of themes. it just helps to know what you are actually interested in writing in, versus what you think other people would like to read. im personally interested in writing about relationships and dynamics, so my writing will always be more character than action driven. also, it helps, because youre always going to end up writing what you want to write, even in the smallest of ways, so why not embrace it fully? write what you want to read. otherwise, you wont have fun. and writing is SO MUCH FUN. knowing what youre into and what youre trying to channel gives you a really strong basis for all of your writing - not only will it take time for you to find your wavelength, meaning that youll have to expose yourself to many different genres and authors, which is a must, youll always be able to look back at that ONE creative piece and grab some motivation from it.
expose and explore
creativity is everywhere - tv shows, movies, books, fanfics, comics, art, architecture, history (!!!), mythology, sports, reality - literally everywhere you can think of. dont wait for inspiration because its everywhere if you look hard enough. familiarize yourself with the seven basic plots, the thirty-six dramatic situations, basic foreshadowing elements, and other essentials. this isnt something to study or memorize, just to KNOW - its good to be aware of the foundations of literature.
embrace the brainrot and maintain a balance
become obsessed w your own ocs, your own plots, your own everything. be your own biggest fan. to enter an abusive relationship with your own work is extremely upsetting, because youre doing wrong by the wonderful world youve made, and doing wrong by that part of you that just wants to be creative, too - and if that happens, its probably because you arent writing what you want to write, or controlling what doesnt want to be controlled. let your characters be individuals, let them go where they want to go, just follow and note what theyre doing. sometimes writing is a passive activity rather than active creation, and thats okay! thats when you know youve built a solid world that can run by itself and you just contribute to. that being said, while theres nothing quite like the hours spent ravenously typing, you need to find a balance. you are as important as your work, because without you, the work wouldnt exist. i also reccomend forcing yourself NOT to write on specific days. some ideas need to marinate, and some people need to rest.
i hope this was helpful <;3 if you ever need more help (and this also applies to those reading), feel free to reach out! im open to being a beta reader or just a brainstorming partner. lots of love!
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An extensive KFP 4 rant (spoiler heavy)
So, Kung Fu Panda 4 was… an experience. It took about 3 glasses of whiskey to get through it.
There is so much wrong with this movie, from the pacing to lore breaking issues. However, this is an attempt at trying to formulate my opinions regarding the film, and explain why certain story decisions were detrimental.
My live reaction to the film:
The movie makes it clear right from the start that it was made for very young children. It’s filled to the brim with jokes. If there is a chance to make a joke, then there is a joke. Regardless if it's appropriate or if it hurts the story/lore/characters. In normal circumstances, this would be offset by the fact that the jokes are creative and unpredictable, but they aren’t. I would say most of them can be seen either from a mile away, or they just fall flat. I think I only managed to laugh once or twice when Po’s dads were doing something, but outside of that, the film couldn’t get a chuckle out of me. On the contrary, I found many to be cringe, and some even made me uncomfortable.
But why am I talking so much about the jokes?
In the previous Kung Fu Panda films, the jokes were used to break tension. The way the seriousness of the story and the jokes were in harmony is what made those films so memorable and impactful. The story (and films) took itself seriously, but it would sprinkle in jokes that fit the universe, the situation, and most importantly originated from the scene themselves.
Compared to this, the jokes in KFP 4 are, unoriginal, forced, and usually can be traced back to pop-culture. The last one being important as the original Kung Fu Panda films stayed away from referencing pop-culture as it would break the immersion and authenticity of the setting.
This ties into the ERA that these films depict.
Setting
Based on my limited understanding, the original films have done an excellent job at depicting a world that is supposedly set in an authentic ancient China. From the way names are handled, to symbolisms, everything was well done.
The same cannot be said about Kung Fu Panda 4.
I’m not an expert on chinese culture, but from what chinese friends have told me, „Juniper” city doesn’t sound Chinese at all, or has a meaning in Chinese. It’s essentially a Latin word for a common plant that can be found all over the globe.
The architecture of the city is also questionable. It’s trying to give off a metropolitan feel, which doesn’t fit the ERA. Additionally, the architecture of the buildings is odd. It’s like a mesh of the architecture of several Asian cultures.
Then there are some of the names. „Steve” and „Scott” to be specific. These are the names of some masters and I don’t think I need to explain why these don’t fit the setting at all.
I was constantly questioning what movie I was watching as it was hard to believe this is Kung Fu Panda.
Identity crysis
What made me question the film’s identity the most however is the story.
This 4th film felt like a 1st installment rather than a sequel. It conveniently disregards everything from the previous movies that would contradict its plot and world.
The film immediately starts with Shifu coming out of nowhere and saying Po has to choose a new Dragon Warrior at that very moment. Not only did this feel incredibly random, but it’s also thematically incorrect.
First off, why is Shifu saying this? Why would he want Po to pass on his „title” if it's destiny? Why would he want him to do it now? Why did he not even consider ANYONE FROM THE FIVE and instead got 5 randos as candidates out of the blue?
The issue with the whole premise is incredibly flawed. Let me explain…
Po was chosen as the dragon warrior in the first film. There he proved his worth as such. The key to this is that he is the chosen one because it’s his destiny to deal with threats that no one else can.
This doesn’t necessarily mean that he is the best. He is the guy who is and will be in the right place at the right time, with the right tools to deal with threats that no one else can deal with.
But I digress, it's a different topic.
The point is that Po’s role as the Dragon Warrior is his destiny. The „title” merely represents that role in the world. So you can pass the title to anyone you want, but that does not change the fact that due to destiny, it’s still going to be Po’s role.
This is not just a coincidence though. Po has shown many times that he has a very open view of the world. This is then combined with his traits of being is warm, outgoing, energetic, friendly, goofy, and unorthodox. He represents the Dragon, Yang in the Yin Yang.
All of this is important to understanding why there is only 1 dragon warrior, and that is Po. End of the story.
The film however completely throws all of this out the window and goes with the new Dragon Warrior plot anyway.
That means the new Dragon Warrior is literally right there next to him. Master Tigress.
Now you might be asking why that would be the case.
This film, although throws out all the symbolisms of the previous films, still shouldn’t disregard the other characters that are around Po.
The 2 characters work like the 2 sides of the Yin-Yang, as complementary forces. They are opposite forces that need each other in order to create balance.
Her influence is extremely necessary throughout the three films, particularly the second and third. It is her companionship, her support, and her constant push against Po’s natural instincts that lead to the best outcome.
Po has achieved a lot of spiritual enlightenment and character development. A lot of it through his own means, but without Tigress he wouldn't be where he is right now.
The Yang is the strongest when it contains the Yin, and the Yin is the strongest when it contains the Yang.
But this dynamic goes both ways. Although we mostly see the effects of this relationship on Po as the films focus on him, it has also changed Tigress. This leads to her opening up more and being more expressive as the films went on, giving us glimpses into the compassionate person she truly is.
While symbolically she is not the dragon, the 4th film establishes that it doesn’t care about the symbolisms or anything that the previous films have established. So naturally a character that compliments Po this well, should be put into the spotlight and get the character development that she deserves. A character that went through serious changes, but is still left incomplete. You might as well make her the new Dragon Warrior then.
She - altough deserved the title the most even in the first film - lacked the ability to see the world from a perspective that's required to handle certain situations. The Dragon Warrior is way more than just being the perfect warrior. Po's presence was necessary for her to change her attitude. Leading to her slowly becoming her best self. Knowing all of this, it's not such a wild thought that if there has to be a new person who takes over that role, then Tigress would be a great choice for that.
But what is there for her to learn from Po? Spirituality.
Tigress has always been a grounded, by-the-book character. This can be mostly attributed to her upbringing. Her changing and becoming more open, seeing things differently would have been something interesting to explore, and this would also take care of the issue of the „new trilogy” copying the original trilogy’s main character development.
However, the film completely ignores her existence, and the new Dragon Warrior is instead a random Zootopia fox.
The (new) deuteragonist
There is so little to say about Zhen. The best thing I could compare her to is an untreated wooden board.
It’s rough, full of splinter, and there are many like it. Probably one of the most cliché characters I have seen in a very long time.
She is generic, has an overused „misunderstood fox thief” trope, and a character arc that is so predictable that we all knew what was going to happen just from reading the film’s synopsis at the beginning of 2023.
Her backstory is a copy of Tigress’ except if Shifu was evil. An orphan who is taken in by a master who emotionally neglects her. Said orphan doing what her master wants in order to be loved/accepted by said master. Except that Zhen doesn’t seem to have any attachment or loyalty to the Chameleon. So the „Sad backstory” fails to garner any sympathy towards the character.
Her dynamic with Po is non-existent, which is why their „friendship” is forced. The creators tried so hard to make the two bond, that they forgot to give them time, shared experiences, or anything that would resemble an emotional connection between them. They just quickly went over everything that they have in common in a dialogue and that’s it. There was no prerequisite completed that would make Po care about Zhen or vice versa.
Furthermore, Zhen doesn’t fit the traits that the dragon has, she is not spiritual either or has an open view of the world. So why is she the new one then?
And I wanted to avoid talking about this, but the character is a textbook Mary Sue.
per wikipedia
Zhen is more than capable in a fight to keep up with Po, even though it was not shown why she is so good at fighting. One thing is for sure, she shouldn’t know Kung Fu as she certainly didn’t learn it from her „master” the Chameleon if the film’s plot has any consistency.
She is not only able to manipulate Chi, but also to use Po’s staff without knowing anything about either of those.
A previous character’s role being retconned so that she can take it for herself (See the rant about the Dragon Warrior title above)
She always gets along with characters that matter, getting what she wants.
No real character drawbacks.
A throwaway character like this, should be a minor support character, not the new main protagonist for crying out loud.
Her inadequacies are so blatant as a character, that no wonder they didn’t even want to have at the very least Tigress in the film as Zhen would immediately become irrelevant to the audience. They put all the spotlight they could on her, at the expense of the story, and in the end achieved nothing in return.
Tell me with a straight face that a character that has an entire movie focusing on them - who still remains a generic, boring character by the end, without any story potential - should be the new main protagonist. The fact that most people don’t even refer to the character by her name, but by the actress’ name Awkwafina should tell you everything about how memorable she is.
Most new characters and animal designs don’t fit the KFP art style.
A good example of this is Zhen.
This is how a fox would look like in Nico Marlet’s KFP style:
And this is what we got:
Sorry, wrong picture.
I meant this:
Now, I’m not a character designer, or a professional artist, I only draw a couple of his characters, but I can see that this is way too far off from his work. If not from personal experience, then from the interviews that Nico Marlet himself gave.
The same issue applies to the villain of the film, the chameleon, but atleast with her they tried (somewhat).
The Villain
They say a film is as good, as its villain. This seems to be true in the case of this film too.
The Chameleon sucks.
She has no connection to anyone from the cast. She has no emotional leverage or pressure on the cast. She is not scary or powerful enough to make the audience care about the cast. Her motivation is so terrible, it might be one of the reasons why the Five was kept out of the film because their mere existence single-handedly demolishes her reason for breaking bad.
Outside of this, the character is unoriginal and uninspired. She basically can “lick” people and steal their Kung Fu? I honestly don't know how to put this into words because it doesnt make any lick of sense (I did the funny). If anything it's a budget version of Kai.
They didn’t even bother to give her a name.
What I will say though is that Viola Davis did what she could with what she was given. I found it amusing that she managed to give the chameleon those serious villainous vibes, while at the same time, the character is a joke. If that’s not a testament to the voice actor’s abilities then I don’t know what is. She was definitely wasted on this role.
As for the “returning villains”. I knew they were only there for cash-grab from the moment they said that all of them would return. Shen, is dead. He is not a Kung Fu master, he doesn’t have any connection with Chi, and he hasn’t been banished to the spirit realm. Then there is Kai, whose soul/spirit doesn’t exist anymore.
The only one that could ever return was Tai Lung. However, due to the gravity of his character, if he does return it has to be done perfectly regardless of what direction his character takes.
Now, many of us knew from the start that whatever they were gonna do with him would be bad (I mean there is a massive beef between Tigress and him, and yet she is not even in the film), but I think I speak for all of us when I say that they managed to somehow lowball it even worse than expected.
Basically, the Chameleon brings him back from the spirit realm, licks the Kung Fu out of him, he says like 3-4 lines, and returns to the spirit realm…. what the actual f*ck.
I’m sure I don’t need to go into a 10-paragraph rant on how much storytelling potential was wasted with this, because everyone knows. From reconciling with his dad, to her little sister having a crazy beef with him, to having to accept all the wrongs he did, accepting that he is not the Dragon warrior etc. etc. etc…
There was always only 1 chance of bringing him back. If he came back in a new film or show (again) it wouldn’t have anywhere near the same impact as it should, and it would also feel weird to the audience.
DreamWorks, you had 1 chance to bring this guy back, and you wasted it all on this film.
The non-existent magic system.
Or rather, how this film didn’t care about it at all.
Kung Fu Panda has a relatively grounded world. It’s animals that do Kung Fu based on their natural abilities. The closest thing we got to supernatural was Chi, but it was well handled in the 3rd film in my opinion.
Chi is life force and not magic. This means if you use it, you are exhausting your own life force. This means you would only use it in certain situations, such as healing someone who is mortally wounded, or perhaps to enhance an attack in a desperate fight.
The film doesn’t care about this and handles it as just a regular, inexhaustible force of energy. This can mostly be seen with Po as he uses it whenever he feels like it.
The other type of magic is what the Chameleon is using. It’s not explained, or shown how it works. It’s just there to further progress the plot so that the character can take the Kung Fu from others. (Seriously, how does that work?)
The Kung Fu action
The fight scenes were also a downgrade compared to the previous films.
In KFP 4 they felt less energetic, less grounded, and overall too cartoonish. As an example, Po can jump ridiculously high because… I don’t know, I guess the film just ignores the fact that he is Panda who sometimes even struggles to pull himself up to a rooftop.
The previous films incorporated the strengths and weaknesses of the animals that fought. Po is not very mobile, but he is very durable, and his fighting style compliments this. However, when he really needs to get somewhere, his lack of mobility is then offset by his friends, the Furious Five.
The Furious Five
Their absence can be severely felt throughout the movie. That is because in their place was a generic character that had forced interactions with Po.
They have great synergy with him, that cannot be replicated, however minor their role might be sometimes. They serve as a great way to fill in those empty spots in the story, and to elevate the villain. Additionally, their fight scenes are entertaining and help to spice up the choreography.
Although they are great companions, if the film really doesn’t have the time to spare for them, then it's understandable if they aren’t around. However the same cannot be said about Tigress.
A Kung Fu Panda film has to have Po and Tigress interact, due to the reasons already explained above regarding her, and also because of the following:
They are direct opposites, which is why their relationship is so entertaining, regardless if you look at them as platonic best friends, or as a potential couple.
Po is warm, outgoing, brash, energetic, friendly, goofy, and unorthodox, however, he is also serious when needed. While Tigress is introverted, calm, calculated, passive, and intuitive, but deep down she is also a very compassionate and conflicted person that we rarely see. This is then in conjunction with the emotional bond that the previous films have built up between them. These are the reasons why just putting these two in a room is enough to create entertaining scenarios. They add a lot of fun, heartfelt, and emotional moments to every film.
Whenever Po is facing a problem, she is right there to help him through it, whether by talking it through or by beating some sense into him (literally).
She has always been quintessential in Po’s development and motivations.
Memberberries, Memberberries everywhere…
It was jarring to see the film disregarding the existence of the previous movies to justify its plot, but at the same time heavily relied on tropes, and scenes from said films. I’m not kidding when I say that there were moments that were ripped straight out of them.
One of those moments is the standoff between Po and Zhen before the final fight. Zhen wants to stop Po to avoid him getting hurt, but the fight ends with her hugging Po….
Yeah… it was a blatant copy of the prison scene from the 2nd film. However, I think the 2 scenes here perfectly encapsulate why the previous films worked, and why the 4th film doesn’t.
The prison scene in the 2nd film was essentially an emotionally unstable Po being held back by a caring Tigress. Po is so focused on getting to the truth that he forgets the reason they are there, and would put his and his friends’ lives in jeopardy to know what happened to him and his parents. So much so that Po was ready to get beaten to a pulp by Tigress instead of staying down there and waiting until the Five finished the task.
But instead of that happening, Tigress saw how lost Po was, and realized she needed to calm him down to help him understand their situation. And so the person who has always been portrayed as an unfeeling, hardcore, essentially perfect warrior gave Po an unexpected hug and told him he is too important for her to lose him.
This moment has gravity and weight, because of how she is perceived, because of how Po views her, and because Tigress was forced out of her comfort zone to emotionally connect with Po, to help him. It’s a moment of pure comradery and care towards each other that ascends the situation they are in. It’s a moment that in many ways defined their relationship going forward.
In comparison to this, the scene that copied this in the 4th film has none of the emotional underlinings that I discussed, and so it falls flat and feels cringe rather than heartfelt and warm. This is mainly due to Po and Zhen having no connection, bond, or reason to care about each other. But then there is the other element that I discussed when talking about the villain. Po is in no real danger, and it never felt like he was.
Production
From the early leaks, it was blatantly obvious that the production of this film was rushed. Between the artificially forced plot, the generic character designs, the non-existence of the Five, the lack of time, money, commitment, and care was apparent.
However, due to an interview that the Co-director did with some folks on the subreddit discord, light was shed on the nightmare that was the production. I won’t go into details, as everyone should read the Q&A for themselves, but I’ll touch upon a point that was brought up as an excuse for this film turning out the way it did.
(this is a real concept art from the production btw)
Some are saying the reason the film turned like this was due to the budget restriction. That they simply didn’t have the money to have characters like Tigress return due to Angelina Jolie costing a ridiculous amount of money.
But then I have to ask: They had the budget for characters like Shifu (Dustin Hoffman), Po’s dads (James Hong & Bryan Cranston), Tai Lung (Ian McShane), who in the end turned out to be completely irrelevant to the story, but not at the very least for Tigress (Angelina Jolie)?
I’m not saying that you cannot make a story with these characters, because you obviously could make a great one. What I’m trying to point out is if you have such a limited budget, are you really going to blow it all on actors who play characters that essentially add nothing to the story? This is why I call bullshit on them not getting at least Angelina Jolie back to play Tigress.
Let’s not even mention how you could always recast these characters anyway (although it's clear that the execs are the ones forcing the use of A-list actors).
So for the sake of the argument, let’s come up with a story, that has a reason to exist, has characters that you can do something with, and fits the budget that you are given.
For me - considering that this film was essentially a buddy adventure film - it's an easy task. Just have Po help Tigress explore her origins. I know it's cheesy and basic, but at the very least you have what’s needed for a decent story that would be able to expand on a beloved character, and even help develop Po into a spiritual leader as he has to aid her best friend.
Another idea is what my friend and I had come up with. Have Po bring Lei Lei (now much older, and is a student under him and Tigress) on an adventure. You wouldn’t even need Tigress to appear in the film, because these characters would reference her many times. Lei Lei is a copy of Po in the sense that she wanted to do Kung Fu because she puts Tigress on a pedestal. Because of how influential she was in her life, Lei Lei’s personality is a copy of Tigress’.
I’m just shooting ideas here, but at least these wouldn’t ruin the continuity of the franchise and would be able to navigate the studio limitations that the creators had to face. (from the ones we know of).
"Limitation is the mother of creativity"
KFP 4 was a shallow, artificial story that didn't add anything to the franchise, only degraded it and stripped it of it's remaining value. It's missing the foundations of a KFP film, such as the heart, artistry, and warmth. It's not unexpected as none of the original brains worked on this film.
So what can be expected from this franchise going forward?
Well, not much honestly. It was a weak attempt by DreamWorks to continue the main storyline, not for the sake of the story, but to milk as much money out of it as they can. Even though with a little bit of effort they really could have at least made a good film in the end. However, between the incompetence of the decision makers, the rushed production, and the new people not knowing much about the franchise, that was never going to happen.
The only thing that we can hope for is a spinoff (which is about a decade late at this point), that focuses on Tigress. It’s the only way I see anything for this franchise going forward and hopefully, this film served as a wakeup call for the executives.
Thank you to those who had the patience to read through my inessential rant. Let me know what you guys think about the film.
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whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)
a/n: here she is... chappie four <3 thank u for ur patience and 1000 kudos to the anon that made a plot suggestion that i had already written lmao-- as always let me know what u think! things are heating up....
word count: just under 4k
synopsis: You return to regular training for the first time in a month. Azriel asks a favor from Rhys and finds you in a less than stellar condition when he returns to camp
CHAPTER FOUR :: FRIENDS
Velaris is a sight for sore eyes.
After nearly a month of endless white scenery, of the blinding glint of the sun against snow, paired with endless pine, the sight of a city is a reprieve in itself.
And because it’s Velaris — because it’s home — something else settles within Azriel.
A hackle that always stays on high alert finally lies down. The constant agitation of his shadows falls into a calming hush. He breathes easier.
He's back with his family and can be here to keep them safe if need be. He's back to the closest semblance of comfort he's ever known.
Where do you find comfort?
Azriel blinks a little, taken aback at the abruptness of the thought.
The lone shelter in the mountains, spaced out from the circle of buildings, every bit representing your isolation from the people of the camp — that was your home.
Where you resided and took solace from the world in, the place you felt safest. But... it's no place of comfort. It's a crutch. A necessary support. Somehow, Azriel has no doubt that if you could survive out in the snow, burrowed amidst the elements, you would, if only to have one less thing to maintain.
You've never even seen a city before, he thinks. All you know is the mountains.
Suddenly, eyes cast across the breathtaking beauty of Velaris, the hum of the Sidra carving its way through his beloved home, the buzz of people on the streets, Azriel recalls the very time he lay eyes on it himself.
It never stops being breathtaking. That much is true, but then again, there was no comparison to the first time.
The warm feeling that had grown in his chest. The way something he hadn't known ever existed within him had unfurled, like a flower blooming in the sun. Something Azriel now knows to be hope.
He hadn't known a place this beautiful could exist.
Wouldn't have been able to dream it up when all he had known for so, so long was darkness and shadow.
Even in the time after the cage, all there was to see was the white of winter and the cold bite of the harsh mountains. He learned how blood looked melting into the snow, how to sleep with one eye open, and all the different shades of cruelty.
Azriel remembers being unable to comprehend the sight, the stumble in his heart at the indisputable proof before him. That despite what had been drilled into him by his father, his brothers, by every Illyrian warrior who punched down on bastards, there was a place where peace reigned above all.
People who lived in harmony. Where Art and music are considered a treasure alongside other skills, each equally important. And Azriel belonged there, as much as any of them.
It had been one thing to walk through the city, to marvel at every cobblestone, at the trims lining each and every window, to have people regard him with such a polite and casual manner — not a second glance at his wings or his hands.
It had been something else entirely to fly over it as night fell.
Mountain ridges illuminated by his most constant friend, the rising moon, watching the moonlight spill over the dark red rock of the mountain and paint it ever softer. Sweet ocean air and the very perfume of the city intertwined within the current as he soared above it, mighty wings beating.
Azriel could remember that first day and night in Velaris vividly, like an unforgettable dream. How easy it had been to fall in love with it, to let its arms unfurl and to allow himself to make a home within them.
Looking out across it now, as Faelights begin to twinkle and blink to life as the night creeps in, all Azriel can think of is how much he wants that for you.
To bring you here. To have both of you fly above the city and wander down the streets aimlessly, to show you that there were places far kinder in this world than all you had known before.
He yearns for you to have the same dawning realisation he did—that so much more existed outside of those gods forsaken mountains.
Azriel knows you're a very guarded male. You have more than enough reasons to be. He's already pushed a thousand boundaries you have and each time you let him into your sanctuary in the mountains is a sign of enormous trust.
Maybe for that reason, Azriel wants to be the first to extend that kindness to you.
A twinge in his chest sings a different, golden answer.
Azriel ignores it and steals one more look out at his home, swallowing down how all logic seems to be pointing to the same thing, time and time again.
He finds the High Lord in his study, papers stacked high on his desk that have only grown higher in Azriel's absence. His dark hair is tousled in a way that means he's been running his hand through it too much.
Azriel lifts the shadows from beneath his feet as he enters, letting the other hear the sound of his soft footsteps. Rhys looks up at the new arrival. Despite his tired appearance, it does nothing to dim the grin that overtakes his lips at the sight of his brother.
"My, my, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"
Azriel grins back, stepping forward Rhys pushes back from his desk and stands. His usual wings have been hidden away through his magic and Azriel notices their absence when he pulls him into a brief hug. Rhys lingers close, his violet eyes raking over his friend.
"Not bad to see you either."
"You flatter me." Rhys purrs, his voice all buttery and smooth. "You've got new eyebags. Overworking yourself as usual, are we Az?"
"I presume you make such lovely comments about Feyre too?"
"And risk her wrath?" Rhys smiles, eyes glittering at the mention of his mate. "Never."
Azriel rolls his eyes, letting his obvious endearment at his brother's happiness show. They truly are a perfect pair.
He crosses his arms across his broad chest tightly, if only to hide the fleeting flicker of wanting the spools tight in his chest. A ribbon of envy, woven between his ribs.
If Rhys notices, he doesn't comment. Instead, he says, "Usually, you're itching to escape the mountains but not this time I see."
He pauses, eyeing up the Shadowsinger to see what response it'll give. Azriel yields no comment back. Expecting this, Rhys smiles.
"Either way, you'll be happy to hear that Cassian has returned from his time off and is ready to resume his usual duties."
Azriel stills at the words.
He knew that Cassian would at one point return to his usual positions and that Azriel himself, would return to his spymaster post. But it's come sooner than expected. Perhaps, time with you has been passing far quicker than Azriel thought.
"I found the cause of the rumours."
"Yes, I assumed you had," Rhys says, wandering back around the deck to slump into his chair. He leans one arm against the armrest, his knuckles against his temple.
"I also assumed that you spent all that time dealing with it. Much of a problem?"
Azriel considers his words carefully. The trust he's managed to garner with you is fragile, though he knows his friend would not severe it or interfere if he asked.
Another part of him knows it's unusual behavior of him, to offer his skills so willingly to a stranger. But, well, you're not exactly a stranger anymore.
"There's a male.” Azriel begins, choosing his words carefully. “A bastard, the one causing all the stir-ups. He feeds the other bastards when he can. It's what had Lord Mylind kicking a fuss."
Rhys curses lightly at the realisation of just which camp they are dealing with.
"He's learning to make healing tonics," Azriel continues, noting how Rhys' head straightens up a fraction. Interested. "In hopes of slipping them to freshly clipped females. To see if it can reverse the damage."
Rhys sits back in his chair completely, his hand brushing over his mouth in deep contemplation. For a moment, he says nothing.
"I suppose I don't need to ask if there's been any female training then."
Azriel feels himself glower instinctively, his wings hiking up an inch higher without meaning to. He thinks of Lord Mylind and the conversation he had on the first day in their camp. The sheer display of male arrogance, snarling, and threatening violence outright.
"No.”
Rhys curses again, his eyes crushing closed. He seems to filter through a pained reaction, his face contorting until it lands on a tired resignation.
“The camp of Exordor made very good on a bargain struck during a very hard time.” Rhys grits the words out.
Something dangerous flashes in his eyes at the mention of the deal that had turned sour. A cold ripple of night shudders through the room.
No amount of soldiers supplied during the war had been worth the suffering that camp Exodor alone produced— or continues to produce if the whispers that came out of there held an inkling of truth.
It’s a rotten place, tucked deep in the mountains, and some of the worst brutes Rhys has ever had the displeasure of meeting were born in the bowels of that place.
“It doesn’t lift for another 50 years." Rhys sighs, his voice wavering with a hint of shame. "I can’t touch them without slaughtering them all— innocent or not.”
Azriel didn’t say anything for a moment. This information is not new. He watches as Rhys digests his silence, leaning back in his chair as the wheels spin in his head, dizzyingly fast.
For the second time, Rhys' brows jump.
“You’re helping him.”
Not a question.
Azriel nods.
"You don't want Cassian to take back over."
"No," Azriel murmurs. "Not yet. The male is... He's guarded. Isolated. It has taken time to earn his trust. I believe in what he wants to do and I believe he has what it takes to achieve it.”
He thinks of the quiet evenings within your shelter, your patience as you taught Azriel what you could — how you took every piece of information from him on the chin, not one complaint of ever tiring. He thinks of the heaving in his chest, the tug on his heart.
"I ask that you let me see this out." Azriel finishes, his shoulders rolling back as he stands tall. Let Rhys understand how this had become more than just a mission to him; it’s a personal calling, one he must answer, one that he needs to see out to the end.
Rhys surveys him intensely, unblinking for a moment. Then something devious crosses his face, catching in a smile.
"That's not the only thing you want to ask me, is it?"
Azriel looks to the ground, suddenly bashful. This would be entirely too revealing of the closeness he felt, to ask this, to offer this. He asks anyway.
"I wish, with your permission, to take Heartstriker." Azriel's voice rumbles lowly. He forces his eyes back up, meeting Rhys' strong gaze. "To gift to him."
Something dips into Rhys' smile, threatening a smirk and for that reason alone, Azriel feels his ears tinge hotly. His face remains calm, however, giving nothing away.
"Heartstriker? As a gift?" Rhys repeats, with a sly smile. "Pray tell Brother, when's the wedding? Since when have you ever been known for gift giving, let alone something as dear to you, such as a sword? I might just have to meet this bastard."
Azriel’s ears only get hotter, betraying him. He prays it doesn't show on his face, though he's sure the increased swirlings of his shadows give him away. And Rhys’ infallible ability to read his flustering each and every time.
"Is that permission?"
Rhys, seemingly realising he won't be getting any juicy details, quits tormenting his brother with a flourish of his hand. He leans back in his chair relaxed, a softness creeping into his expression.
"It's been yours to take all these years, Az." Rhys finally lands on. "You did earn it, after all."
—
The shelter looks bigger without him here.
Betrayingly, it’s the first thought you have when the door swings open, letting you into your nest of safety. You heave in a breath that rattles loudly and it gets swept up in the foul whistle of the Mother's Kiss.
On your side, your blood-soaked hand clutches your abdomen tightly. Pain spiderwebs up your body, fraying every nerve with a burning agony.
Every step feels loud and clumsy.
You cough as softly as you can, yet still feel the warmth of blood on your lips. The familiar metallic tang overwhelms your mouth.
You must be dripping blood behind you, dragging a slushy mess of crimson snow in on your boots. Fuck, what are you doing again? Your head throbs. They must've knocked your head hard this time if you're losing focus this quickly.
The Mother's Kiss howls fiercely, a reminder of the cruelty outside your little haven.
Right. You remember you need to close the door— and you shove the deadbolt closed along with it. If your ribs were aching a little less, you would reach up and do up the second deadbolt too, at the top of the door. You try to anyway.
Your arm gets mid-way up before you freeze, pain lashing every nerve in your midriff, enough to make you wince loudly. The bindings on your chest aren't helping. For a moment, dark spots dance before vision as you quickly tuck your arm back down, moving too quick.
Fuck. Fuck. One deadbolt will have to do.
It feels as if the whole world lurches when you take your next step, blurring like thick taffy for a split second. You stumble towards your bed and realise as you sink onto your knees on the edge of it, you need to dress your wounds.
Another bloody cough. Has your nose stopped bleeding yet? It's impossible to tell between each and every other ache.
What were you doing again?
Without meaning to, you begin to slump over, nearly lying down in your bed.
Dressings! That's right, you need to make sure the wound on your side isn't still bleeding, need to make sure it's clean when it finally begins to clot, need to...
Need to... what did you need to do?
That's right— you need to sleep.
Your head crumples against the pillow like a dead-weight as you collapse against it, exhausted. As your consciousness wanes, you cough again, a splatter of red spraying your pillow.
Not good, you think absentmindedly. Eyes slipping shut, you miss the familiar figure out the window, approaching through the storm.
—
You're wincing before you even realise you're awake.
Crackling. Logs spitting out little snaps fill the air, the quiet roar of a hearty fire; the first things you hear when you come too, far too slowly for your own liking. Your left ears hum loudly in discomfort— no doubt a result of one of the harsh hooks you had caught in the face earlier today.
Next, you smell something... clean?
Your tongue comes out gingerly, licking your cracked lips and you realise quite suddenly, there's an absence of blood on them. The thought slams into you at the same time you realise; you hadn't been able to stay awake for long enough to even light a fire.
Panic reaches through your ribs and grips your heart, tight, and you sit up without thinking.
Pain follows you closely like a lazy afterthought that slams into you, soaking into your body meanly and making you regret moving so fast. Your head swims heavily, throbbing dully.
A pained noise threatens to leave your lips and you force it down. Then force your head up, eyes blinking rapidly, trying to assess the threat, trying to do something.
Panic squeezes your heart painfully again when your hazy vision clears just enough to reveal the shape of a body before you— your blood chilling in your veins as you realise there's somebody else in here with you.
The whimper you held back before slips out before you can help it, your body squirming backward without thought. Your breaths comes out in sharp pants, bursts of pain accompanying each one, and right as you hit the wall, your vision focuses.
Your lungs empty in relief.
It's Azriel before you, on his knees, his scarred hands are held out in front of him.
They aren't touching you, just hovering, his palms up to indicate he means no harm. His wings are tucked back, hunched down to be smaller than usual, and all around him, his shadows whirl about animatedly.
There's an expression on his face you've never seen before.
"—on't move," He's saying, his low voice finally registering in your ringing ears. His hazel eyes are fixed on your face, darting about quickly. "You'll re-open your wounds."
He's talking about your wounds but for some gods forsaken reason, all you can think is how surprised you are that he came back.
The thought loops endlessly, like a holy mantra —he came back, he came back, he came back— and you realise that you were both terrified and also sure that he wouldn't be coming back at all.
That somehow, somewhere along his trip back to his home, he would have realised you weren't anything worth coming back for.
"Azriel?" You wheeze.
Just to check—you have to check.
Maybe he's a mirage. He certainly would be the kindest mirage you can think of.
You think you see something soften on his face, his wings dropping an inch lower behind him. His hands are still held out before you, still waiting. He's endlessly patient. His shadows seem to slow a bit, less frenzied.
"Yeah," He murmurs gently in response. His hazel eyes burn as they take in the sight of you again. "They got you pretty messed up. huh?”
You're sitting on your bed still, you realise. Blinking slow, you take an inhale, trying to put together how he got here— your eyes fly to the door. It's locked, this time with both deadbolts secured.
Azriel follows your gaze, turning his head slightly. "They're a good precaution. Don't be dissuaded that the spymaster of this court managed to get past them."
You wheeze again, some delirious laugh that gets cut off when pain splinters through your side. You groan lowly, unable to hold it in and your hand creeps slowly to paw at your side.
Faintly, you can feel the scrape of bandages on your skin, covering the wound, and sigh in relief. It makes your diaphragm sink down, the bindings around your chest shifting and that sends a frantic bolt of alarm through you once more.
“You—” The word scratches out your throat and you cough weakly. Every instinct starts to light back up, hackles rising— there has never been someone else around when you're too weak to defend yourself. It takes a moment with eyes closed and measured breaths to lean into your trust. You trust him, you know you do.
“You... patched me up?”
The question comes out wary and pointed despite your efforts. Though that might just be the gravel in your throat from having your face beaten in.
You don’t know how to covertly ask if he saw— if, that when he pushed your bloody shirt up to nurse the slash in your side, he noticed the gauze around your ribs.
It's an alien and terrifying thought, Azriel finding out. A worry deep in the marrow of your bones warbles in response, a thousand hairs standing up on end at the possibility.
How a revelation of that magnitude could sever the first trust you've had in years.
How it could lose... the first friend you've ever truly had.
A string of nausea tugs in your throat, bile threatening, and you have to swallow it down with the crippling fear that's been thrust into your system.
This is how it goes. The intrinsic balance of the world —to be gifted closeness and friendship, is to submit to the possibility of losing it.
Back against the wall, it settles into you very starkly, a thought sharp and clear; you do not want to lose him in any way.
Some part of you thinks he must see you as some kind of starving mutt, growing far too attached to the first hand that feeds it. But looking at him now, his shadowed face and kind expression, the depth of his eyes... you're convinced he sees something more to you.
And you want him to, desperately.
In a way you can't comprehend, can't begin to understand— how can you be so tied to someone you've known for so little? How can it hurt so much to be parted from him when you're barely friends? When he doesn't even know who you truly are.
Perhaps, you think, this is what all friends are like. You wouldn't know, you haven't had any before.
Azriel nods mutely, a strand of his dark hair falling over his forehead. He seems to be considering his words carefully and you take the moment to steal a few deep breaths.
When he speaks, his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard. "I understand that might be... crossing a line. But—" A waver in his voice. "— but I could smell the blood from out in the storm."
There's something left unsaid in his sentence, his tone clipped. Whatever it is, you're far too tired to discern it. Your body, overwhelmed with tension, abruptly loosens as the perceived threat of danger seeps away. It drains you, a sudden wave of tiredness cresting upon you— because you know, undoubtedly, you're safe now.
Not quite meaning to but unable to stop yourself, you sink down and fall limply against your bed. Your wing curls over you defensively, a blanket and shield all in one.
Azriel's hands finally lower, resting gently atop his thick thighs. His shadows dim their chaotic activity, almost lazy with how they whirl about his neck and shoulders. You wonder absentmindedly what they feel like against his skin.
Looking back at his face, you find his eyes haven't broken their watchful gaze on you— intense enough to stir up an unfamiliar warmth within your chest. You avoid it and his eyes, your tired eyes catch sight of something behind him.
"You brought...?" You can't quite finish your sentence, a vicious shiver wracking your frame, making you curl up closer. Tiredness chases it, the threat of sleep looming closer and closer.
Your eyes close without meaning. In the darkness, Azriel's voice swims before you, muted and far away.
"You have to get better before I can give it to you." His voice has dropped to a whisper. It makes your lips twitch in an attempt of a smile. It's funny, hearing a legendary Illyrian warrior like him whispering.
"Okay," You might say back— though you're not sure if it sounds like a word at all.
It doesn't matter. You're already asleep.
[NEXT PART: CONFIDANTS]
—
tags <3
@strangerstilinski @janebirkln @itsswritten @mischiefmanagers @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @idkitsem @illyrianbitch @jeweline16 @fightmedraco @iamjimintrash @maeandering @spideytingley @aneekapaneeka @cassianswh0reeee @viciane @astarlitsoul @mybestfriendmademe @archiveofcravings @reputaytionn-13 @bionic-donut @chessebookgirl @itseightbeats @littleblackcatinwonderland @twsssmlmaa @fanworrior @skysayhi @vintageoldfashion @tequilya @fabulouslyflamboyant5
#azriel#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel shadowsinger x you#azriel shadowsinger x reader#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#azriel fic#azriel fanfic#acotar fanfiction#whom the shadows sing for#whom the shadows sing for (and the thief’s echoing hymn)#OKURRRR#LETS GO#I HAVE TO LEAVE FOR WORK IN 10 MINS SO IM JUST POSTING#if theres things wrong with it.... well ill deal w that later#enjoy! <3
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There are so many naruto time travel fics out there but what I need SPECIFICALLY is an ANBU era team of Kakashi, Tenzo, Itachi, and Shisui getting flung into the founders era.
Like. Ok just looking from the political side of it that's;
A) 2 very young and VERY powerful Uchiha's (one of which is the future clan head!! Politics!!)
B) A very fucked up baby mokuton user who's still in the middle of being deprogrammed and can totally pass for Senju
C) The free wild card that is Hatake clan lore on top of having a stolen sharingan. On top of *that* him being the team leader of a team of kids who, in the time period context, should both be at eachothers throats and probably not be expected to obey the commands of someone not only from another clan but a way smaller one
Theres SO much potential there!! So many political implications in virtually ALL of the directions!!!!
Yk what as I'm typing this out I'm having ✨️ideas✨️ so let's make some story points to sort those out:
• I think itd be neat to have this happen like. A year? Ish? Before the massacre? So age wise, and full disclaimer I'm referencing Google and Wikipedia rn so I could totally be wrong, I think that's :
Kakashi (18)
Tenzo (17)
Itachi (12)
Shisui (15)
Could be wrong about the ages but honestly it's my world you're just living in it, so.
Then me going totally purely off of my own headcannons, were going to say they came in a about a year before Izuna died and place the founders ages as:
Madara (23)
Hashirama (23)
Izuna (19)
Tobirama (18)
Big fan of Tobirama being the youngest between the 4 but projecting the aura of someone as old as like. Idk, however old Madara is. Very funny to me, 10/10
• I'm personally a big fan of dogteeth kakashi so we're running with that all the way home. Also a huge fan of the "Hatake's are a distant, more feral cousin of Inuzuka clan" hc along with some sprinklings of "back in the day they had a bit of a Reputation(tm) for being a 'lill wild, and everyone generally tries to avoid them. Which isn't too much of a problem because theyre a very small out of the way clan from Iron, they just have a big reputation in contrast to their size.
In more modern times tho, along with (obviously) having dwindled down to a single depressed teenager, they've become a lot tamer over the years due to village life. Kakashi is a Hatake, 100%, but he is NOT up to the standards of this time. Which becomes a bit funny when people see him, go "oh FUCK it's a Hatake" and then start edging slowly towards the door like he's about to rip their throat out with his teeth. Meanwhile he's standing there like 🧍♂️"am I that ugly."
Give me a scene where, finally used to this reaction to him from the general shinobi population, the team starts to use it to their advantage.
"Give us the scroll or we'll let the Hatake off the leash to have his fun with you. He's been awfully hungry latley you know, hasn't had fresh meat in days"
Kakashi, feeling kind of stupid, gave his best growl.
It caused an almost immediate, embaressed flush to rise to his face, but he didn't let up. It sounded more like an almost pathetic puppy growl than anything to his ears, but apparently it was enough to convince the trembling enemy nin because he slowly lifted the scroll up in offering.
Wow. Now he couldn't tell if he was embaressed for himself or for this guy.
Probably both to be honest.
• So like. Itachi is the clan heir. That's big. That's important. Let's do something with that.
First off, I had a great time reading this one fic (tho I don't even remember what the fic itself was about now, oops) where a plot point of it was how Sasuke is just a walking stereotype of main house Uchiha. Like people look at him and they don't just go "oh that's an Uchiha." They go "oh fuck that's an UCHIHA Uchiha." He's so fucking painfully, obviously related to the very tippy top of the clan that anyone not blind can tell. It's in the way he looks, it's in the way he talks and treats those around him, it's in the way he fucking holds himself. You look at him and every other stereotype about the Uchiha clan is there in big, bold letters. (On top of that he's also a dead wringer for Izuna, which I'm such a sucker for and desperatley wish people would do more with)
So like let's give that to Itachi here because it's so fun for several reasons.
First off; Sasuke in this is like. Straight up a doppelganger of Izuna, just a few generations apart. They could be twins. Itachi, as I'm sure you are aware, is Sasuke's big brother. So let's take some liberties and say that Itachi could absoloutley pass as a blood sibling to Izuna and Madara.
He is however 12, so we're also going to say that the only people who get to make this connection is anyone who's seen the siblings when they were also at a similar age.
On top of that however he has the 'walking amalgamation of all the stereotypes of the main Uchiha house' so anyone who isn't blind will look at him and assume he's somewhere in the sphere of 'important main house person' tho who really knows how distant the relation may be exactly. No one !! That's who !!!
Second; He's the fucking clan heir!! What the fuck!! This bit would have the most impact after all the messy time travel reveals when things have settled down a bit, so it'll sit in the back pocket for a bit. Save it for some fun shaking up later down the line so we don't run out of all the fun reveals too fast and bore the readers, yk?
When it is brought up tho it'd be fun to maybe have some fucky Itachi and Madara mutual understandings of the way things work.
• So. Madara is like a bit of a scary bed time story to Uchiha children, right? Like. "Ooo make sure you don't get too obsessive or fall too deep into your grief and always stay loyal to the village or you'll end up just like Madara!!"
Something something Uchiha-Village relationships are tense as hell, something something Madara fucking over a lot of the clan with his whole. Everything., Something something scapegoat and old stories, something something 'people have probably been talking a lot more about how "god dammit this all started with Madara" in recent years.'
Now with that in mind let's take a look of what our time travelers think of Madara:
Itachi is a good Konoha soldier. Itachi (as has been very much fucking proven) would rather beat a possible problem before it even exists with a hammer till it dies an ugly bloody death than even RISK it blossoming into a proper problem. Itachi does not like Madara. Itachi personally, quietly thinks they should maybe wait till the village is formed then carefully arrange a little accident for him before he goes off the rails. He, even more quietly, maybe even thinks it would be a kindness. Allow him to be remembered well by the village instead of scorned.
Shisui I think is cautiously optimistic about him. He's the kind of guy who gives the benefit of the doubt, who weighs the options, risk and reward, but includes things like hope and compassion in his calculations. Yes, Madara was a uhh. Thing. That happened. But in every story his big blow up always come from one specific event; Izuna's death. So if they stop that from happening, wouldn't it secure both a better future for them and Madara? The history books never went into detail about Izuna, he doesn't know what he's like, but maybe his involvement in the future, on Konoha's side, could lead to even more profits for them long term. At the end of the day he's not against killing Madara (though to be clear, they are at first operating on trying to avoid all interactions with historical events and return home without touching things) but it'd be nice, to manage to get a happy ending for everyone. Unrealistic maybe, but nice.
Mmmm hear me out actually, maybe Shisui, after interacting with him a bit, finds that Madara reminds him of Itachi too. They definatley both have that "I would do unspeakable things to even dream of my loved just one more time" energy, if you know what I mean
Anyways; Kakashi and Tenzo are both neutral on Madara. Yes, they learned about how he betrayed the village when young just like everyone else, but they weren't getting the bed time stories and "do this and you'll end up just like him" warnings like the Uchiha's. They're possibly leaning into negative but are detached from the situation enough to just go "well he hasn't done it yet and his brother is still alive so he won't any time soon" and be done with it
• Now, on the the total opposite side of the spectrum you have Hashirama and Tobirama. People are brought up in Konoha to fucking IDOLIZE these guys. You can not tell me our team of time travelers wouldn't be at least a little awed to speak with them.
I think Tenzo would be the most wide eyed about Hashirama, both for the baseline "holy shit that's the Shodai Hokage" and also that fun juicy mokuton user imposter syndrome he has going on for him. That guys DNA is inside his body!!! Holy shit wait does that mean if someone did a blood relation test with them he might read as being related to him?? Fuck were gonna pocket that for now but like. Mmmmm potential.
I'd say Itachi is the most hesitant about Tobirama but again, village loyalist, so.
You know what tho maybe Shisui is the most hesitant about him (though still largely positive) he both def grew up looking up to him but can also see the anti-Uchiha policies people inact now with the implications that Tobirama would have approved of it. He doesn't know if he would, but like, he has to wonder.
Kakashi is probably the most normal about them (and also has experience in being close to a hokage (Minato) to know that at the end of the day they are painfully human) Don't get me wrong, he's still in some sort of awe! He might get a little lightheaded at the thought of seeing the God of Shinobi in proper battle, or the possibility to see the famed genius of Tobirama with all the different jutsu's he's invented. You can't tell me Kakashi didn't spend a little extra time reading about him when he was trying to make Chidori. Honestly I'm gonna roll with that and say he had a bit of a phase as a kid where he was a total fan boy. Maybe sprinkle in the good old HalfHatake!Tobirama hc to add some faint daydreams a lonley babykashi had after his father's death, about getting to meet him as family. Like cmon, little genius idolizing and projecting on some big history figure only to find out they're actually related? Can you say potential?
Anyways he did eventually grow out of the phase, probably got unattached to it all and lost interest after the whole "losing everything he loved" bit of his life. And at the end of the day, he doesn't have any real complex personal hang ups on the founders like the others do. Thus, most normal.
• And then my favorite most special boy, Izuna !! He's for sure the one they're all most neutral about. He's not actually taught about in the academy? There's probably some throw away line about him in some history books somewhere, but he died young and was quickly buried by the looming shadow of Konoha. The only real knowledge had about him in modern times is just a vague "Yeah he got killed by Tobirama which lead to peace being made but also lead to Madara losing his shit"
Poor Izuna he's the linchpin for it all but was left an unremarkable footnote of history. My boy deserves so much better
Tenzo doesn't actually even know who he is, that boy got bare minimum education under Danzo and Izuna was NOT included.
Itachi and Shisui mmmaybe have some small little fun fact here or there buried in stories from the older members of the clans but like. It's gonna amount to just "yeah he had a great katon" and thats about it.
I WILL SAY HOWEVER. Itachi sees him and instantly is that one PTSD dog meme. Sasuke is a BABY but holy shit Izuna looks exactly like he'd expect him to grow up as and it's making him FEEL THINGS. Also he's so bratty little brother coded !! He's an entire 7 years older than Itachi but Ifachi keeps fucking up and trying to big brother him it's embaressing.
And ofc Itachi didn't go into the first meeting thinking he'd see some weird older mirror version of his beloved baby brother who he misses and worries about very very much. So like. There's for sure going to be some conflict there. If their first meeting is a scuffle (which it probably will be) I think Itachi would keep hesitating to attack. On full run away mode. Which is probably for the best bc he shouldn't try to fight Izuna anyways honey he's like double your bodyweight and you're strong but you aren't THAT strong.
• Pointing back at both the 'Itachi does not like Madara and has quiet thoughts about how it'd possibly be in everyone's interest to just kill him' and the 'Itachi and Madara quietly bond over being clain head/heir during stressful times (w pressure from the elders especially)
I can see 2 outcomes of a potential bonding conversation with them:
1) They come to understand eachother better.
Madara wants to be on good terms, he looks at this kid and sees one of his brothers eyes and the others quiet determination. He can tell Itachi doesn't like him for some reason, and it's frustrating because he doesn't know why. He wants him to like him. He wants to be able to offer his hand and have it taken. It hurts, to be looked at with such suspicion from a face that has traces of Izuna's.
Meanwhile Itachi . . . Itachi looks at Madara and he sees someone who gets it. Gets it like no one ever has. It scares him. He looks up at this man, this horror story he's been told to fear becoming, and he sees himself. And this realization shakes him. It makes him think, makes him wonder. He's so, so sure of his loyalty to Konoha. More sure than he is of anything else in the world. But . . . But if something happened to Sasuke, if he had to choose—
And maybe it softens something in him too, along with the (honestly healthy) dose of fear. It forms a little crack in his shell, just enough to maybe, maybe let Madara through. Just a hair.
Or 2) we pull one of those "The conversation ends with them agreeing verbally but mentally they're on 2 VERY different notes."
Madara, nodding and looking at Itachi meaningfully: "Yeah it can be hard, but all we can really do is try to make the world a safer place for the ones we love. (To create Konoha, to keep my clan safe. Izuna safe. And now to keep you safe too.)
Itachi, nodding slowly: "Yeah. No matter how hard it is (even though I think I understand you more than anyone else Ive ever met) we have to try to make the world a safer place (by killing you in your sleep once Konoha is formed) for the ones we love (My clan. My village. Sasuke.)"
• Also pointing back at the 'Hatake warring clan era reputation,' the 'Tobirama is half Hatake' and also now pointing at Tobirama's title as the White Demon. Small thing but it'd be neat if there was some small throw away line that the nickname lowkey started in part because of the absoloutley terrifying reputation of the Hatake combined with Tobirama's own Everything(tm) like it just had some influence on how some view him. Give me Uchiha's making dog jokes ab him it'll be funny
• Ok but now the actual plot thoughts. Yeah I know I kept you waiting sorry about that.
So time travel! Probably due to a mission gone wrong. Some ruins or some ancient crumbling scroll that wasn't even supposed to do fucking time travel but was so old and corroded that it somehow managed to transform into a whole other seal by pure bad luck. Or good luck I guess, considering it could have just turned into a nuke.
Our favorite team of disasters are very very alarmed !!! What the fuck !!! Obviously they don't default to thinking time travel, but they immediatley know something is wrong. The landscape has changed, though the big landmarks are still there. The mission was complete anyways with no injuries so they just retreat to Konoha. Only oops !! It's not fucking there!!!
Queue alarm.
Shisui is the first one to suggest time travel because he's quirky like that. And there's a very easy way to confirm this theory.
(Also we're going to say that Konoha's location is a valley a few miles out from the Naka River that borders the Senju / Uchiha territories.)
This is convenient because that verification method involves checking in on where Itachi and Shisui know the old Uchiha compound should rest.
They do it in full stealth mode, the second they saw Konoha was missing Kakashi as team leader decided they'd treat the land as enemy territory. They all agreed ofc, for all they knew this WAS enemy territory now.
And, ofc, yeah!! There's the old Uchiha compound!! Being active!!! There are people there!!!
"What are the odds Fugaku-sama decided to have the clan return to their homeland for ahh, cultural enrichment?" Kakashi asked weakly.
"Time travel." Was the only reply he got from Shisui, whispered reverently as the boy vibrated with excitement on the branch.
Itachi just gave him a look, radiating a level of dissaproving disbelief that no normal 12 year old should be able to make. Kakashi would know, he was that not-normal 12 year old once.
From there they decide a no interference policy. Hands off guys!! They probably debate it tho, like, a good amount. They all have ✨️opinions✨️ except maybe Tenzo who's lowkey still in the middle of trying to learn how to be a person and is following Kakashi's lead 99% of the time. Especially since they're still in mission mode and this is like a super serious discussion and he really does know the least ab the founders overall.
They probably debate the merits of going to Uzushiogakure bc seal help but it's really far and they don't actually have like, just any leverage with them. They already decided not to fuck with the future so it isn't like they can trade secrets and warnings. At least if shit happens here they have some plausible deniability, being, yk, 2 uchiha's and a senju-passing guy with Mokuton. Kakashi's kinda fucked tho in that regard but he isn't going to be doing the party ANY favors with his clan heritage.
Which means it's time to potentially get desperate enough to interact with Tobirama !!! Which will inevitably lead to them bumping into a Uchiha patrol or something!!! I don't know honestly
• Anyways want Hashirama and Tenzo to interact. He has so many issues like holy shit. Let Hashirama give him the hug he deserves. I want him to violently adopt him. New brother acquired!!!
I said before but Tenzo is still reprogramming from ROOT. Let Hashirama impact that! Let him help! They can make flower crowns and photosynthesize together idk
Hashirama would be so happy to have another mokuton user, I think they should be able to sense eachother extra strong and like 'ping' off of eachothers chakra, it'll be fun
▪︎ I'm not thinking toooo hard about power scaling and this is fanfiction so a) don't quote me on this and b) for the love of all that is holy don't take my words as gospel
But for this fic specifically I'm ranking the founders and Team Ro, weakest to strongest (in a clean, fair fight head on w no time to prepare) :
Itachi (he's fucking 12 guys. But also he is like. FRACTIONS under Tenzo and Shisui. If he were 13 I'd let him be above or at the same level but like. He's 12. Cmon.)
Tenzo - Shisui (they're like JUST under the next 2 tho like seconds behind)
Izuna - Tobirama
Kakashi ( by the skin of his fucking teeth and the advantage that is his stupid amount of jutsu's and lack of self preservation)
Madara - Hashirama
And again that's not counting like. The specific situations, time given to prepare, potential dirty tricks they could play (I think the Konoha tricks would play a fraction dirtier than the others, who are slightly more used to big open battles vs the ANBU squad who does all sorts of shit in all sorts of places) plus like. Mental state and team ups.
Tenzo or Shisui couldn't take down Izuna or Tobirama but if they teamed up I'd allow it. Kakashi would get his ass kicked by Hashirama or Madara but he could survive a minutes longer than the others would
Itachi is doing his best
But like
He's 12 guys
I love him and he is terrifyingly competent but he won't win 1 on 1 with anyone unless he has some sort of advantage. Minus Shisui and Tenzo who he does have the advantage of regularly fighting, so.
• I think they do get to go back home in the end. It takes a ton of work tho and they probably do need to get Mito's help with it, Kakashi can show them the seal they got brought here with but it's an ACTUAL one in a trillion miracle it didn't fucking atomize them. So it needs a lot of touch ups
Anyways !!!
I have a little more rattling around in my brain but I'm really tired and also starting to think about other things now so I'm gonna stop here. Might come back and add to it later so stay tuned if you're into that
Full disclaimer I'm not gonna write this. I don't have the proper energy and it'd probably end up being too ambitious of a project if I tried. I'd love to see it happen tho, so like !! Big open invitation to absoloutley anyone who might want to take even a fraction of the ideas I've listed.
@ me if you do tho I wanna see the final product
#birds fic talk#time travel AU#Naruto#dogteeth kakashi#kakashi hatake#itachi uchiha#shisui uchiha#uchiha#hatake#yamato tenzo#tenzo#team ro#madara uchiha#uchiha madara#hatake kakashi#uchiha itachi#uzhiha izuna#izuna#tobirama senju#hashirama senju#senju#naruto founders#founders era#naruto time travel#naruto fanfiction#warring states period#mito#uzumaki mito#mito uzumaki#hatake clan lore
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I finally managed to put my overall thoughts about Playboyy into words and hoooooo boy do I have a lot to say.
I watched the mdl ratings go down, the blatant hate towards the plot, the actors, the scenes, the sex. There was nothing that wasn't torn apart about this series and yet I wasn't phased for a second and I kept wondering why because usually get very passionate about defending the things I love.
And then I realized that this series is the cinematic embodiment of a very lonely path that I've been walking for decades and I am already very, very used to the shame around it.
Sex is not just my special interest, I also had the privilege to grow up with excellent sex education (thanks parents) and on top of that I never struggled with my (pan)sexual identity. Sex plays a significant role in my life. But I learned VERY quickly that I should keep this to myself if I don't want to be ostracized or bullied.
"You're autistic AND you like sex? You like porn? What the fuck is wrong with you??? That's impossible."
And all the comments I read about playboyy are exactly the same just in different fonts. Ew sex. Ew kink. Ew porn. Ew sex work. Sex can't have storytelling, plot, it's just for shock value. We all read it.
And sadly it's a very accurate representation of the role sex plays in our society. Which - ironically - playboyy exactly is about.
Playboyy is a visual collection of all the experiences of lives and people in which sex plays a significant role - even the lack thereof (looking at you zouey and all you lovely aces).
It's a collection of very important social commentary, with all the characters, sets, plots and visuals as a medium. Because this way, the points they make come across even stronger and draw out all the emotions they want us to feel - which is in the rarest cases, pure arousal. Because this is, in fact, storytelling. Even if many don't want to hear it.
Telling stories about sex is so stigmatized and shunned, it only has the tiniest place to exist freely. Just like sex itself. Every sex worker, sex educator, sex therapist, everyone who has a profession that deals with sex will tell you about it. The shame. The misunderstanding. Look at the state of sex work and porn in the world. It tells you everything you need to know.
And it's happening in the middle of the "modern" western society - Yes I'm talking about you, UK and I can't not plug this here:
*btw I am not a sex worker I'm just very passionate about letting people not just live their lives but giving them a CHOICE to do what they want or don't want to do
I existed in this tiny place for decades now and I got really comfortable in my tiny lil corner, but to see a show like this go "mainstream" talking about all the topics that tickle all the knowledge I collected over the years feels so amazing. And I can tell you, all you lil smartass purists, everyone involved in this show doesn't care an inch what you think, just like me. We're used to it, believe me.
I could go on for ages about how carefully all these topics of the show are treated but what I actually want to say is that I find it incredibly ironic that a show that depicts the struggles and stigmas about sex, exactly draws out the reactions and treatments it criticises.
If you don't want to join in on the fun, that's totally fine. I get that it's not for everyone (just like sex, he). But treating it as a piece of trash just because it's a thing you personally find icky is exactly the reason the issues Playboyy talks about exist in the first place. Hence you can thank your stuck-up ass yourself that debauched individuals like me get a gem like this to enjoy.
And the fact that it didn't just find a crew, but also the funding and the mainstream distribution proves that I'm not alone in this.
It's not my lonely little corner anymore and I'm absolutely thriving on that. Cry about it.
#playboyy the series#playboyy#playboyy meta#and no im not using tumblrs mature label for this because i like to love dangerously and want you to read it
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Famous actual play gms and the WoD games I'd like to see them run
Brendan Lee Mulligan- Mage the Ascension was built for this man. It's a game about philosophical arguments where everyone is a wizard need I say more? Listen to him talking about planescape in the promotional videos on the dnd YouTube page and tell me you wouldn't want to see him run mage I dare u
Matt Mercer- Vampire: the Masquerade Matt's sprawling political plots and comfort with a more serious tone would work really well for Vampire.
Aabria Iyengar- Changeling the Dreaming This isn't just because of a Court of Fey and Flowers, though that has shown she has a talent for depicting courtly politics and the fea. I also think that her work on Misfits and Magic really shows the wimsy and imagination she can bring to her worlds. An energy I'd love to see her bring to Changeling
Griffin Mcelroy- Hunter: the Reckoning, Amnesty was the best taz session by far and it was running monster of the week, which on top of the obvious setting and theme similarities also share a philosophy that prepping for the hunt is more important then the fight itself.
#wod#world of darkness#brennan lee mulligan#mage: the ascension#mage the ascension#matt mercer#vtm#vampire the masquerade#aabria iyengar#ctd#changeling the dreaming#griffin mcelroy#hunter the reckoning#dimension20#critical role#the adventure zone#taz amnesty
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Is it bad that I can't think of descriptive words and phrases at the top of my head when I'm writing? I've always heard that the first draft isn't necessarily the best and you can go back later to fix it but I always feel bad when I can't think of better adjectives/adverbs/etc to use right away.
As creative writers, we are all enticed by the allure of rich vocabulary and fancy language. The prospect of constructing a sentence that shimmers with complex and sophisticated words is nothing short of enchanting. However, when it comes to effective communication, clarity is more important than the vocabulary you use, especially for your first draft.
Why vocabulary is important (and when it isn’t)
From an early age we’re told to improve our vocabularies to make our writing more interesting. And advice like “show, don’t tell” feeds into this. While descriptive writing is great, and I do recommend improving your vocabulary in ways that serve your craft, many writers make the mistake of using unnecessary adjectives because they think it will make their writing better. This simply isn’t the case. It can lead you to use words that aren’t well-known or too complex for the average reader. There exists a pressure to impress with language, but writers must beware of sacrificing understanding for the illusion sophistication. It’s always better to be clear than fancy.
The pitfalls of overcomplicated language
The risk of alienating readers is real. Many might not comprehend convoluted sentences, causing them to lose interest. If you can’t immediately think of an alternative adjective or description, then it likely wouldn’t have come to your readers either. Overcomplicated language can also lead to miscommunication and misunderstanding, which defeats the purpose of storytelling. The distraction of convoluted prose can lead readers away from the plot and the message that you are trying to convey. It’s how you end up with messy descriptions like “sapphire orbs” instead of just saying “blue eyes” which is both clearer and better to read.
Clarity is the essence of creative writing
The primary goal of creative writing is storytelling and connection. It aims to elicit emotions and transport readers to another world. Balancing language and storytelling is crucial in order to achieve this. While rich language can enhance the story, it should not become the story itself. Simplicity in language is often better at conveying complex ideas, ensuring that the message gets across most effectively. If your story is good, it will stand on its own, regardless of how extensive your vocabulary is.
The power of clarity
Clarity in creative writing means expressing ideas in a simple, concise, and coherent manner. It enhances reader engagement, as readers can focus on the plot and characters rather than struggling to understand the language. Vivid and concise descriptions contribute to clear writing, as they bring the story to life without any unnecessary complexity. A description can still be vivid without being complex. All you really want your language to do is effectively portray context.
Balancing vocabulary and clarity
There’s certainly a place for a rich vocabulary in creative writing, to paint vivid pictures and evoke strong emotions. The key is to use the right word at the right time, and not to shoehorn in complex words for the sake of it. For your first draft, you should always focus on telling a good story, and not worry too much about the details of vocabulary. And while you do that, use techniques to expand your vocabulary like those outlined in this post, to help improve your language skills and achieve the right balance between clarity and complexity!
#writeblr#vocabulary#writers#creative writing#writing#writing community#writers of tumblr#creative writers#writing inspiration#writerblr#writing tips#writblr#writers corner#writing advice#writing resources#writers on tumblr#writers and poets#writer#helping writers#writing help#help for writers#advice for authors#improve your vocabulary#resources for writers#let's write#writers block#beat writers block#writer things#tips for writers#writing tips and tricks
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|| Shackles of Love ||
Summary: Your husband Pete reads the epilogue of the book you're on and there's only one way to keep him from spoiling it for you now…
Pairing: Dark Husband!Pete Brenner | Naive Wife!You.
Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Pete Brenner. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.
Warning(s): Soft-dark!Pete Brenner, non-con/dub-con elements, boob play, humping, stockholm syndrome, age-gap, m!dom, f!sub, power imbalance, housewife kink, misogyny, bondage/chaining, brainwashing, choking, teeny bit of overstimulation.
Note: I contemplated whether to make this dark or not but then said what the hell?! Shorter than usual (I think) because it's been a hot minute.
MASTERLIST
"Aw, thank you, baby." Pete flashed you the million dollar smile that had charmed you so much the first time you saw it that it had directly led to this very moment.
"Honey~" you sweetly called out to your loving husband in that one tone he adored so much that he preferred you spoke to him in it all the time. "Here~" you held out the mini tray containing a chilled beer and loaded sandwich for him to snack on while he watched some old movie that you were frankly too young to know anything about.
You smiled and turned on your heels to place yourself next to him on the couch that faced the tv, feeling a tiny butterfly flutter in the base of your tummy due to how he patted the spot beside him for you to sit in that dominant way of his. The man could literally so much as breathe and have your whole stomach flip. He had you whipped.
Not much interested in the rather vintage movie, you turned to your book that you had bookmarked before leaving to make your husband a sandwich because he liked a snack or two with his movies. Your fingers hurriedly turned the pages as you found your chapter, bottom lip moving itself between your teeth in excitement. You had been perfectly engrossed in a particularly thrilling part where a plot twist was unfolding when your husband had ordered- no, requested his craving.
Why would Pete ever order you outside the bedroom? Pfft, no way. He was a very giving and kind husband who would never disrespect you!
Yes, maybe sometimes he was just a little mean during punishments but it was never not duly deserved.
It wasn't unfair. Not by a long shot. Pete worked hard for the both of you and your future family throughout the week so you could stay at home in pretty dresses and do whatever you pleased. Your only jobs were to cook, clean and take care of his husbandly needs.
And that was all!
You weren't the one who had to go out into the scary outside world and deal with all those dangerous people that lurked past the protective doors of your house! Honestly, if it weren't for Pete being such a supportive and devoted husband, you didn't know where you would be right now.
You would be cold, alone and miserable with no one to protect you. His words from training time faintly rang in your ears.
Pete was right.
He always was.
Your love was the only one who meant you no harm and could keep you safe.
Everyone else had already failed you or eventually would. Even your parents. Because seriously, what guardian is so careless as to take their child to baseball games where the ball could crack your skull open anytime! Honestly, how careless could your father be! Your mother was no different because, what kind of a woman encourages her daughter to have a career instead of teaching her the much needed and important domestic skills so she could keep her future family happy and healthy! Making you risk your precious life by letting you persue a career in law out of all!
If this wasn't the prime example of the fact that no one except for Pete truly cared about your comfort and safety, you didn't know what was.
Yes, so what if he had roofied your drink in the bar before taking you to your real home with him? He had only meant well! You had been far too headstrong and stupid a girl back then to know proper manners for someone your gender. But Pete had been very kind. Though you had fought relentlessly in the beginning and attempted to escape the premises of this house that was nothing but love and care, he forgave you for everything!
How much more wonderful could this man get?!
Your husband had smiled at every insult, laughed at every injury you had inflicted on his skin and heart, kissed away every tear you had so foolishly shed.
And then he had taught you proper wife etiquette.
Honestly, no one had ever bothered to put up with you that much.
"Honey?" Pete called out to you in a semi-distracted tone, blue eyes still trained on the tv as you stared at the pages in front of you with wide eyes as a realization washed over you. But before you could communicate your thoughts like you had been taught to do so, your husband continued. You hummed for him to go on, mind still stuck on the page. "Want to know something real funny?"
Obedience had been woven into every fiber of your existence. So you turned your head to look at him with curious eyes after making a mental note to tell him what you had realized just now later. Because Pete always came first. So you had to await your turn.
"Funny?" You tilted your head to the side, one arm looping around his arm as you perched your chin on his shoulder. "Sure, dear! I like funny…" Your nose crinkled a little as you smiled in the way he had taught you.
A devious smile spread over your husband's lips. "I read the epilogue while you were in the kitchen" it took you a few moments to realize what he was hinting at. He had done it before and the way he finally turned his head to look at you with mischief dancing in his ocean blue eyes, placing the now empty tray on the table in front of the couch, you knew he was about to do it again.
"No! You didn't!" You squealed as he laughed in the comic typical evil way, tackling you until your back was flat against the couch. "No! Please, honey! No!" You helplessly whined as you shook your head violently, tossing the book open and hurrying through the words. "I am almost at the epilogue! You cannot do this to me!"
"That's just a shame, isn't it?" The protestant kicking of your feet that rested on his back now caused a clinking sound in the air due to the thick iron cuff enclasped around one of your ankles.
"Noooo! Pleeeeease!" You pouted as his goatee gently pricked your fingertips that were pressing against his mouth in a desperate attempt to quieten him. "Honey, please! I've been a good girl!" That was the reason why you had maintained your reading privileges for three straight weeks at this point. "You're being cruel for no reason!"
"Aw. Don't you remember?" Prying your fingers off his mouth was no challenge to the older man. "Husbands can do whatever they want whenever they want…" You whined loudly as you ignored the tingle in your nether regions that his dark tone had caused, flipping the page and hurrying through the words, holding the book between your faces. "Okay, soooo… what happens is–"
"Ohmygosh you're so meeeean!" Now your free hand desperately darted to your own body before you fished out one of your boobs from the neckline of your dress. A whimper escaped from your lips when you reached for Pete's nape next before arching your back to further close the gap between your bodies. The action clasped the space of your husband's mouth shut as he hummed against your tender flesh now.
Pete had this rather mean way (that you didn't actually mind) of torturing you when you were reading sometimes. He would sneakily read from a section way ahead of where you were and then tease you with spoilers until you shoved his mouth with one of your private parts.
You faintly recalled being heavily opposed to it at one point.
But there was no other way to stop him when he was at this.
And that was alright because he was your husband who loved you and loved him.
… Right?
"Hmmm~" you softly moaned in the way he liked. His clothed dick instantly stiffened under your pussy like it always did; a confirmation that you had done the right thing. Your hips that were not as securely clad as your husband's began to slowly piston against his crotch, the dress being the only cover for your bottom since you weren't allowed underwear inside the house. Pete liked you accessible 24/7. So he could bend you whenever he pleased over any surface with no hassle.
It was the least you could do after all that he did for you.
Your legs tightened around Pete's waist as did his arms around yours. It was crazy to you how easy it was for him to handle your body however he desired since he physically looked more on the lean side. But his strength was no joke, you were nothing but a doll between his fingers.
And the reminder always made your wifey parts quiver.
"Hmmm… my perfect wife~" Pete's husky grunt caused your holes to clench around empty air as he latched onto your other boob that you had pushed out next. "Such a good slut… knows exactly what I like…" Your brows were furrowed and hands shaky, breaths hitting the paper that you struggled to both hold and read without dropping it on your face. "It's almost as if-" a loud sucking noise erupted in the air when he forcefully pulled his mouth away from your hardened nub, the feeling causing your back to arch as your hips increased their pace. "-As if you were only born so you could be my good little wife, huh baby?" His slightly rough hands were manly and strong against the soft skin of your chest, lips and teeth grazing against your sensitive skin while the goatee caused the tickles that never failed to tip you over the edge.
"B- Because I was, hubby!" You whimpered submissively as you failed all your attempts to make sense of the words in front of you. Pete had already told you why this was and he was right.
You were far too simple minded to multitask.
"What was that?" As his hips started to work against yours, the soft burn of the expensive fabric of your dress rubbing against your throbbing and leaking pussy caused tiny droplets of sweat to form on your temples. The book fell from your hands and on the ground besides the couch at last.
"I- I was only born s- so I could be your good little wife, hubby!" You cried out as you attempted to sink your nails in his shoulders but your husband beat you to it.
"That's fuckin' right…" Pete's breaths were heavy as he reached for the chain that connected to your ankle cuff and pulled it upwards. It was locked around a sturdy hook hidden under the living room couch on the other end. Long enough to allow you to move around the house to perform your wifely tasks but not an inch longer to entertain any funny or rebellious– dangerous attempts that could be made while he was out earning your bread and butter. Only Pete had the key that could unlock it.
You whined loudly when he deprived you from touching him while exposing your aching core in an even more intimate position at the same time by snaking the chain around your wrists and holding both your hands as well as your shackled ankle above your head.
The new position further distanced your pussy lips as you rubbed your swollen flesh against the soft material of his trousers now, your dress a wrinkled mess in the middle of your body.
"Mmm… I need you so bad, hubby…" You whispered out, throat dry and face twisted in need and want. "Please…"
"Do you deserve it, huh baby?" Now he laid out some of the cold chain against your throat with his free hand, lips parted and eyes dark. "Have you been a good wife for me?"
You vigorously nodded, clenching around air once more as your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he applied pressure to the makeshift leash against your windpipe, the loss of air and realization of the imbalance of power causing you to pant and hump the man harder.
Pete could do to you literally anything that he desired and you would happily let him just to please him.
That was your only priority after all; your real duty.
"You're gonna have to use your words, honey…" Your husband released your windpipe as he spoke, causing your back to arch once more to try and breathe better.
"I… I…. deserve it, hubby. I really do… I've been s- so good… I promise…" Your chest rose and fell as it glistened under the lights due to the tiny beads of sweat coating it along with Pete's saliva. "I- I deserve you~" your last word was a gasp against his lips that he finally smashed against yours, chaining down your windpipe again as he helped stimulate your worked up pussy by moving his own hips in sync to yours.
You were too close. It was dangerous. You had to break away and ask his permission if you didn't want to get punished. Cumming without Pete's permission was always followed by cruel edging that stretched on for weeks. Your husband was a master at taking you high to the point of utter dumbness only to leave you deprived and trembling at the last moment.
But you liked to kiss him so much…
That and you didn't want him to feel like you were prioritizing your pleasure over kissing him.
That would be such a selfish thing to do!
And good wives were supposed to be giving, understanding, patient and supportive.
It was a dilemma.
But as always, your knight came to your rescue and you knew you could never love him more than you did in this moment. "Cum for me and I'll consider…" It was like he could read your body and boy did you adore him for it.
Your air came back -or rather, was allowed to do so- just as fast as your vision went out when your tense insides finally bloomed open and went crashing over you the barrage of pleasure that had been building up inside of you. You moaned Pete's name along with heartfelt praises as you trembled, hips slowing down to avoid overstimulation as you blinked away the stars in your vision.
Rubbing and humping definitely had their own kinds of orgasms.
"Atta girl… That's it… Just like that…" Your husband whispered in your ear, his still clothed cock now rock hard against your worked up pussy. "Good girl…" Though he still kept a firm hold on your ankle and wrists, Pete let go of the makeshift leash to reach for your marked boobs that he began to caress. "You feel that, baby?" A soft whine pushed past the pout that formed on your lips. "This is what you do to me…" His voice was strained as he held back a moan, his stiff crotch teasing you now as he let go of your breasts to open his fly.
It was then that it suddenly occurred to you.
And though you knew from ample experience that it was never pleasant… you had to do the right thing.
You owed it to your perfect husband.
"U- Uh, honey…" You hissed out softly, trying to move your hips away from the torturous humping he was still subjecting you to. When Pete didn't respond, you tried again, only this time more timid because you knew too well how he responded to denial and rejection. "D- Darling…"
His nostrils flared as he exhaled loudly in annoyance. "What?" Your bottom lip wobbled at his snappish tone.
The man of the house did not like to be delayed when he wished to wreck his lady apart.
"I- I need to tell you s- something…" Pete gave up fiddling with the fly, looking up at you now.
"And it can't wait?" Your eyes stung when he refused to mend his tone but you told yourself it was because he wanted you so bad that he didn't want anything to come between you two.
Yes, that was it.
The truth.
Pete had told you this many times.
"I- I don't think you would like it…" Averting your gaze from his heated one and training it on his neck, you whimpered out your next words because of how his body had suddenly stiffened against yours. "I- I…" You bit your lip, already heightened heart rate refusing to slow down. Pete appreciated it when you were honest about this, you didn't understand why it was making you feel so panicked and sad.
Hopeless.
"D- Dangerous memories have been r- resurfacing again…" His tone and expression instantly changed after hearing this. They were darker but less rude now.
"Oh…" Pete stopped for a few moments to recollect himself. "F- For how long, baby?"
"D- Dunno… didn't really notice it until I remembered a whole episode from my time in court in the m- morning…" You couldn't help but whimper when you looked back up at him.
He seemed almost dumbfounded for a second before he spoke. "I see, honey…" Stopping for a few moments, Pete let go of your chains to caress your hair lovingly. "... And… What do we do when that happens, baby?" Your husband's voice was barely above a whisper as he peeked up at you with skeptical eyes.
"W- We have to go downstairs to fix it so the dangerous memories cannot form any silly ideas in my simple baby mind, hubby…" The man's worried expression changed to one of surprise.
And then the biggest smile made its way on his handsome face.
"Aren't the most perfect little girl, huh?" You couldn't help but blush and relax when he went back to being nice.
Disappointed and angry Pete was one you preferred to avoid at all costs.
"I just love you, hubby…" It came out the way the man had programmed you to say it before you gently pressed your mouth to his. "Wanna please you and make you happy…" Your husband pulled at one of your cheeks lovingly before he peppered soft kisses around your nose, making you giggle from how his goatee tickled your skin.
"So, then… shall we?" The older looked almost proud and smug as he crawled off of you and undid your ankle cuff, softly caressing the slightly red skin before he offered you a hand to sit up.
You smiled as you pushed away a rather unfamiliar stinging in your chest, focusing on the man in front of you instead as you took his hand and stood up, naively following him out of the living room and into the basement, hand in hand with your fingers intertwined.
Pete smirked to himself darkly as he turned the dial of the combination lock on the door of the basement cell before opening it for you to step in. He could still remember the time when you used to push all of your faculties to try and override the lock system somehow.
All that fight to get out only to voluntarily step in with a smile now.
You were definitely Pete's Magnum opus.
#pete brenner#pete brenner smut#pete brenner x reader#pete brenner x you#pete brenner x female reader#dark pete brenner#dark!pete brenner
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