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ghostmartyr · 4 years

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SnK 133 Thoughts

They’re trying to stop the apocalypse but they’re dummy traumatized and the clap of their sins keeps alerting the glow tree.

Kids, just remember: Body count doesn’t matter, it’s how you feel while producing that body count. If you’ve killed people to stop genocide, you are not immune to being party to genocide. ⭑⭒⋆

I’m being reductive because I’m not too eager to go over how not all murder is created equal again.

Going by a good faith read, I do think what the narrative is attempting to establish is that these characters all know what it’s like to be backed into a corner and do desperate things they’re horrified by.

Putting aside the extra psychological difficulties of his childhood preceding the choice to knock down the wall, Reiner believes he’s saving humanity. There’s an island full of devils, and he’s attacking them. He, Bertolt, and Annie are dumb kids who do what they’re told. Because they think it’s right, or because they want to go home, or just because they are dumb kids.

Armin’s killed plenty of people with the power of the Colossus. He can’t plead innocence; he attacks Liberio’s port intentionally, knowing exactly what terror the people on the ground will be going through.

Connie kills the friends he’s trained with for years, when the worst thing about Reiner and Bertolt revealing themselves is feeling betrayed by comrades he loves.

None of this is directly equivalent. Dumb children at war are trying their best. Always, this conflict has been orchestrated above their pay grade. RAB get abandoned behind enemy lines and are told to make the best of it. Armin destroys Marley’s port because Marley will not stop going after Paradis, and Eren has forced a renewed conflict that they need to move against fast. Connie betrays his friends because they’re okay with letting the rest of the world die.

No one on this ship has enjoyed any of this. They have consistently been doing their best with the information given to them while people with more power drag them into fights that never should have happened.

Shiganshina falls because Marley chooses to murder Paradis.

Liberio falls because Eren turns himself into Paradis’ only hope and puts himself into a situation he can’t win alone.

In the crudest way of putting it, these people are grunts. They’re not the ones who picked the game being played. They’re the ones being manipulated into war after war.

That’s why they look at each other without counting the bodies. It isn’t the scale of their actions that hits at this moment, it’s the decisions they’ve made to be part of it. They choose to keep fighting. When it creates an outcome they hate, what can they say? ‘Look what you made me do’?

Whatever their reasons, and whoever set up the board, they are the ones who participate. In this case, pure moral imperative is the driving force. Daz and Samuel die because they’re willing to let genocide go uncontested. That’s on them.

Guilt doesn’t work like that, though. Daz and Samuel die because they are killed. Connie kills them. He betrays their trust.

All of this is to say that the people on the ship truly do understand each other perfectly, even despite the difference in scale. It’s a bit on the nose, but I don’t think anything they’re going through is at odds with the people they are.

Applying that feeling to Eren is a feat of misguided grace that... hell, I don’t know.

As a human person, I like grace as a concept and want more of it. I don’t want the world to burn, I want the burning to stop, and for everyone to be okay in the end even if they don’t deserve it. A world where we all get precisely what we deserve seems an incredibly dark place to me. That doesn’t leave room for mercy or kindness. You get what you earn, and nothing more.

The more time we spend on this portion of the story, the more I’m inclined to think that the themes agree with me. Our heroes at this point aren’t full of the rage they’re entitled to. Every inch of them is tired, and they’re not here for more death. They’re willing to keep going, but even the thought of killing Eren, when he’s massacred thousands, makes them all hesitate.

Everyone wants to go home and have the fighting stop.

That’s all.

Whatever happened, and whose fault it is -- forget all of it, just give them a place to rest and have it be over.

Thematically, yay. I approve. Beautiful. We start out with a series that makes a name for itself almost entirely on the back of the spectacle of violence, and after years of participating in that violence, the main cast wants nothing to do with it anymore. Love it.

Within the plot, I am not in the mood to have Eren’s traumatized friends apologize for not understanding him.

I get it.

I get why they all feel this way.

I do not like reading it.

They’re projecting their own guilt on someone who has shown a reckless disregard for their lives and sanity.

They’re trying to reach Eren as a human being and friend when he’s done his absolute best to make himself unreachable.

That’s sort of the point Reiner thinks is being made. Eren has intentionally set them up as his adversary so that if he has to be doing all of this, maybe there’s still a chance someone can stop him.

Okay, fine.

It falls short for the same reason all of Eren’s stuff is falling short.

We don’t actually know what the fuck is going on with him. We’re guessing.

You know those picture puzzles you do as a kid? Draw a line from bubble 1 to bubble 2 to bubble 3, and eventually you will make a bunny. Or a dog, or flowers, or something that looks like a picture in the sloppy mess of numbers.

Eren’s general portrayal matches that of a toddler who doesn’t yet know his numbers, and understands the instructions to be that he’s trying to get to the last bubble by scribbling lines through all the other bubbles.

Look, it’s a bunny.

And Eren’s friends are all like, oh wow, that’s such a good job! We’re going to put it on the fridge!

Then people come over and are like, why is there a constellation of a deer jumping through a house on the fridge, but they hear the child did it and immediately are like, oh yeah, that’s the best bunny I’ve ever seen, I can’t draw like that.

The child, being a child, is like, ‘Damn right. I’m going to be in bunny museums.’

Meanwhile, I’m just going to come out and say it.

It’s not a fucking bunny.

What it is, I don’t know, but it is not a bunny, stop calling it a bunny, it is actively erasing the knowledge of what a bunny looks like in my mind.

So ends this skit on what Eren’s portrayal has been like.

Eren has decided that this is all necessary. He doesn’t like it, and wants someone to stop him, but he is totally going to do it, and he knows he’s going to do it because future vision told him so and he’s really sad about that even though he’s emotionally in a place where genocide sounds like the only way out but that is wrong.

I think I’ve said before that Eren getting to this place mentally isn’t too off the rails. His sanity has been deteriorating with each mission, and he’s nineteen. Snapping like this could arguably be expected.

But the last we see of Eren’s thoughts, we still have this back and forth of how he refuses to yield the future to fate, but he already feels condemned by that future because he chooses to cause it.

Eren is clearly trapped by this web of contradictions, but his motivational core is so obstructed that it’s hard to actually connect to. It is easier to say that Eren’s gone off the deep end than it is to spend any amount of time asking how Point A became Point 3.

That’s frustrating, as a reader. I don’t want to be told a story, I want to experience it.

Eren’s experiences are not universal.

I need some hand-holding here. There needs to be a few more clear indications of Eren The Person, and how the individual we know wrapped around to making these choices.

Hooray, he’s not taking away their powers.

The guy he let run his cult still nearly killed all of them.

Hooray, he’s protecting his island.

He just actively courted an international incident so everyone wants the island dead.

Yes, Eren thinks that hope is lost before he makes these choices. That’s how moving forward drags him to this place; he doesn’t have the vision to imagine a world where this isn’t happening.

If you don’t fight, you can’t win, and Eren’s still fighting. But he’s forgotten what winning looks like. All he knows is the dreary march forward.

I would like for that to be explicit, not me extrapolating. Because even as I’m typing all of that, and feeling like it makes sense, it has the confidence of tissue paper, and I know my numbers, but half the numbers making this bunny were missing, and I’m not an artist.

The story I’m digging around here for is one I could like, but I don’t trust that it’s actually the one being told, because too much feels unexplained and weird. You can’t just make your main character nuts and use that as an excuse for anything.

Well, okay, you can.

You shouldn’t.

Please don’t do that.

Which I guess leads us to Eren and OG Ymir doing a Shining twins thing.

Here is my wild speculation.

The Attack Titan is the only Titan capable of resisting the Founder. It cannot be controlled, it simply continues forward, fighting for freedom.

When Eren talks to Ymir, her eyes losing their shadows are the cue for him taking full control of the Founder.

Now we’re back here, and her eyes are shadowed again, with Eren’s joining the ride.

I think that where we’re going to end up is that Eren’s mental fragility made him incredibly susceptible to the Attack Titan’s core nature, and enough of that nature aligned with Eren’s that everything except pursuing a way forward fell away. The Attack Titan is Ymir’s furious will, and she’s had it suppressed for 2000 years. I don’t think either one is emotionally capable of surfacing and deciding to resist the urge to march forward and destroy this world that has cursed them so.

Making my theory that yeah, okay, Eren’s lost it, but he lost it with the help of ancient plot magic, which we are now seeing the full extent of.

Does that have any basis in anything?

Who the fuck knows.

But one thing is very clear: Eren’s not free.

“In order to gain my own freedom... I will take freedom away from the world. [...] You are all free.”

The Attack Titan “has always moved ahead, seeking freedom. It has fought on for freedom.”

Eren, embodiment of the Attack Titan, is the first one to hear Ymir in 2000 years. Going with the vaguely logical theory that Titans are all pieces of Ymir herself, the Attack Titan is the part that rebels against every indignity she bows to in life.

Zeke frees the Founder from its promise of peace. Eren frees Ymir from the chains tying her to the royal family’s will.

All that’s left is 2000 years of trauma, and the ability and will, for the first time, to lash out.

It’s not what you’d call surprising.

It’s the getting here that I take issue with. Now that we’re here, yeah, got it. But I really don’t feel like Eren’s journey here has been done well enough to capture the emotional rawness that is trying to be accessed. His friends are shouting for someone who is effectively dead, for all the presence he’s showing.

Then you’ve got Annie and Kiyomi sad.

ON A BOAT.

While Falco wants to be a Titan with WIIIIIIIIIIINGS.

Kiddos, you’re very cute, and I support you not wanting to sit still and do nothing while the world is ending, but I can’t begin to express how little I care.

Except that your families are alive and you two and Annie deserve to be reunited.

SO FINE, OKAY, FALCO CAN HAVE HIS WINGS AND SAY HI TO HIS PARENTS AND GABI CAN SAY HI TO HER PARENTS AND ANNIE CAN SAY HI TO HER DAD AND IT’LL ALL BE FINE DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT THE FUCK WE’RE GOING TO DO ABOUT EREN?

BECAUSE YEAH, I’M SURE THE AIRSHIPS ARE JUST GOING TO SPLODE HIM AND END ALL OF THIS AND EVERYONE WILL HOLD HANDS AND SING SONGS THAT THE EVIL HAS BEEN DEFEATED AND THAT WILL BE THE END OF IT.

Conversation: FAILED

Attack: probably FAILED

GO AHEAD, MANGA. SHOW ME THE DEUS EX MACHINA. I’M NOT GOING TO LIKE IT, BUT I AM PREPARED FOR IT.

inb4 yeah they just are going to bomb Eren with Armin that’s how we end this.

133 status: Still Looking For A Win Condition (This Ain’t It Chief)

#Shingeki no Kyojin #SnK 133 #shingeki no spoilers #SnK spoilers #Survey Corps #tl;dr #chapter post

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sailorsol · 3 years

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Ooooo Echo?

It’s got its own file, but it’s not much more than a summary/plot bunny at the moment. But it’s Echo being badass and saving the galaxy with this computer brain.

As an ARC trooper, Echo was taught to synthesize information from any source possible to achieve his objective. Wat Tambor’s modifications leave him a human neural network with the processing speeds of a computer with a single objective: beat the enemy. What Wat Tambor does not anticipate is for Echo to use his training, to circumvent Tambor’s firewalls and find a way to integrate into the holonet. And what Wat Tambor can never understand is the loyalty of the Vode, allowing Echo to extrapolate his own definition for ‘enemy’.

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davidmann95 · 3 years

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Comics this week (12/1/2020)?

calvatronlordofall said: Today’s comics?

Far Sector #9: Another comic I won’t understand until it’s done and I can reread the whole thing but that I’m enjoying anyway. Really, really hope Jemisin continues contributing to the medium in some form after this, because she absolutely has a gift for it.

Strange Adventures #7: He doesn’t care for tyranny, folks. And JEEESSSUUUUS, Doc

DCeased: Dead Planet #6: Some quality DC Comics nonsense problem-solving, but not sure at all whether the chips are gonna fall in favor of the stuff about this I’ve been really liking or the aspects I simply don’t care about at all.

Tales From The Dark Multiverse: Wonder Woman: War Of The Gods: While I’ve seen plenty of them around the periphery in anthologies and so forth I think this is Vita Ayala’s first full work I’ve been exposed to, and tbh I can’t say I’m taken, even given the pretty threadbare-seeming material for them to work with. I’ll still give Children of the Atom a try, but my expectations have been lowered. Nice seeing Trish Mulviihill’s colors though, thought they looked familiar and it turns out she worked on my beloved Superman & Bugs Bunny.

Batman: The Adventures Continue #7: Yeah, now that it’s all said and done, definitely the best take on the death and return of Jason Todd.

Batman #104: Art’s taken a hit, but Ghostmaker’s getting more and more fun as a character the more that comes out about him. And surprising seeing Dick in his real Robin suit in flashback, Dark Designs had him still rocking that New 52 abomination. It really seems like the policy RE: costumes in flashbacks with him remains up in the air at any given time?

Anonymous said: Thoughts on the long-awaited BatCat?

Anonymous said: Bat/Cat the objectively best comic of the week. Thots.

Batman/Catwoman #1: I imagine disappointingly, quite few - both the best and worst part of this book is that King’s entire spiel on “This is gonna be such a different animal from my regular run, this is my DKR, this is my ultimate prestige statement on the characters” was pure hype, this is just the next issue of his Batman run with Clay Mann as the new main artist. And it’s good! I like it! I think it’d take awhile for anybody to tumble onto the ‘three timelines’ aspect of it if they didn’t go in knowing about it since the color of Catwoman’s suit is the only obvious tipoff for a chunk of it, but it’s still a well-constructed piece of comics in line with the story up to this point, even if it’s so in line with it that it pretty much puts the lie to the notion that this was originally conceived of as a special prestige project in the same way as Strange Adventures or Rorschach. Mostly I’m just struck now that it’s out by the guts of doing a straight sequel to Mask of the Phantasm, given that’s maybe the singularly least divisive major Batman story: everybody on every side of the Batman-loving aisle recognizes it as hallowed ground, so nobody’s gonna not be let down if you fuck it up. I really need to rewatch it, it’s been well over a decade and unlike Return of the Joker my memories of it have almost entirely faded.

Black Widow #4: The further in I get the more I’m struck by the cleverness of the central conceit. How do you construct a drama around a century-old woman whose business has her have to mostly forsake most normal human connection? Make the literal supervillain plot that she’s been forced to have incredibly intimate human connections, and now she’s just gotta deal with that on top of what would otherwise be fairly routine Black Widow stuff.

Miles Morales: Spider-Man #21: Hate to say it folks, but even discounting the severity of the delays this arc’s been a dud. Really hoping it finds its feet again soon.

King In Black #1: Holy cow, this was ass. I went in thinking “well, I’ve resigned myself to having to get this to understand the crossovers into books I’m already getting and tie-in minis I do care about, but Cates still has a baseline level of competency so it should still be perfectly readable”, but this is just...nothing. This is that modern Dan Jurgens tier where it’s so bland and perfunctory and inoffensively executed it loops back around to infuriating, except Dan Jurgens’s writing if nothing else at least doesn’t strut around in tangible self-regard as the next great sales-shattering triumph of the Punk Rock God Of Comixxx like Cates’. And when was the last Marvel event on this scale with such little hype behind it? Even Empyre seemed like it had more weight on arrival, and much as I enjoyed it I’m pretty sure that book mainly existed to fill space until we got this. Maybe it’s just the circle I run in. I swear I remember Thanos Wins being pretty fun, and I just reread Atomahawk and that was still a hoot, so it’s a shame Cates has turned out this way, and worse he’s ended up Marvel’s new golden boy. Unless my dad likes it (and if so hey, he’s not alone, I imagine this is selling gangbusters) I’m sure not grabbing another issue, so I guess I’ll have to do my best with context clues in figuring out what’s going on for...Guardians of the Galaxy, S.W.O.R.D., Daredevil, Namor, Return of the Valkyries, the Joe Fixit Immortal Hulk one-shot, Iron Man/Doctor Doom, and the next book below. Fuck.

The Union #1: I’ve only read Everything Used To Be Black And White for Jack Staff but I was definitely curious what Grist would do here, and it didn’t disappoint! Fun little story, bunch of neat character ideas I’m looking forward to seeing developed further, very lived-in feeling slice of its corner of a superhero world.

Marvels Snapshots: Civil War: An excellent little parable that I’m surprised we didn’t actually see the likes of in ‘06, and frankly worth getting a mediocre Miles Morales arc for (even if it was disappointing that that one had to be where the ball was dropped) if this is where Ahmed’s attention was going instead.

Daredevil #25: So I turned two pages at once and accidentally spoiled myself at the last possible moment for the big reveal of the issue, so that sucks. Still a great issue though - one that manages to function as a logical extension of an incredibly street-level story even though it can only possibly exist as an extrapolation of the wildest excesses of the Marvel universe - but I cannot imagine how the hell the next is gonna cleanly pivot into King in Black shenanigans.

Kill A Man: A new OGN by Steve Orlando, cowritten with Phillip Kennedy Johnson and with art by Al Morgan and letters by Jim Campbell, the reductive though not inaccurate pitch is ‘queer Creed’. But since this is likely to sail under the radar I need to emphasize this is one of Orlando’s absolute best works, a real triumph of the form that’s among the best comics of the year (good GOD does this put to shame 99% of superhero comics fight scenes by the end), and a must-buy for any fans of his work. I’m just gonna let how hard the title and solicit text go speak for themselves:

“As a child, James Bellyi watched his father die in the ring as payback for slurs thrown at the other fighter. Today, he's a Mixed Martial Arts star at the top of his game, and one of the most popular fighters in the world...until he's outed as gay in his title shot press conference. Abandoned overnight by his training camp, his endorsements, his fans and his sport, to regain his title shot Bellyi is forced to turn to the last person he ever wants to see again: Xavier Mayne, a gay, once-great fighter in his own right...and the man James once watched kill his father.”

#Week's Comics #Opinion

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adamdriverwrites · 4 years

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Carpe Noctem || Part 3

Plot summary: Mob boss’s daughter & bodyguard au ft. Kylo Ren. Based off this plot bunny (x)

Warnings: nothing worth mentioning. So your basic mentions of death, swearing, implications of crime.

Word count: 3888

Pairing: Kylo Ren/Reader

A/N: Here is part 3! Thank you to everyone who commented, I never knew this many people would like my story! I can’t believe the amount of people who have liked and reblogged so thank you so much xxx

Taglist: @helloimindelaware, @dandydragonz, @musicalcoffeebean, @driverficarchive, @hazydespair, @maybell88, @bikinibrattoms, @fanfic-fangirl, @stillreadingfantasy, @0nevergrowoldnevergrowold0, @sarasxe, @um-well,

Masterlist here

You sat in your parked car outside the Supremacy. The facade of the building was seemingly unchanged since you had last seen it all those years ago. It was a large, two story building in a relatively nice neighborhood. Dark stone stretching almost half a block, black windows obscuring a view inside, and a neon red sign with 'The Supremacy' in a cursive font hanging over the door.

It was a long shot coming here, but you were still working up the courage to go to Mallory's apartment. You figured this was a suitable stepping stone. She had mentioned her friend in passing conversations, had apparently worked at the establishment for years. You didn't know what time she worked, day or night, and she probably wasn't even here today but you didn't want to head back home right away. And it was a long shot in which you were wiling to investigate a little further. You had to start somewhere.

There was a lone member of security outside the front doors. Black clothes, tall figure, imposing; completely the modus operandi of your father's workers. There was no line to get in, not unsurprising given it was mid afternoon on a Friday so you straightened your leather jacket and walked up to the bald, intimidating bouncer.

His eyes looked you up and down, before quirking an eyebrow. "ID?"

You pulled your ID from your pocket, where it was nestled in between your card and your phone and handed it to him without fault. He looked it over, eyes checking the photo matched your profile before he looked back at the driver's license. His brown eyes widened profusely, and he handed it back to you.

"Sorry, Miss Snoke." He stepped the side, an arm outstretched to welcome you into the establishment your father owned. You entered a dark hallway, bass in the music traveling further, blackout curtains separated as you walked through. Your eyes were assaulted by bright, colourful lights. Dancing wildly around the room in perfect time with the music. Four elevated stages, with poles that stretched to the ceiling were placed around the room, seats arranged the stage. Tables were littered in between and a long bar was nestled against the far wall. It was slightly more busy that you thought it would be, your expectations exceeded to see a woman dancing on a stage, six men littered around her in various seats. A few more patrons sat at a table, two women talking to the group, flirting and petting the men in their suits.

You had never actually been in the Supremacy. But it was a classier joint than you extrapolated. Surfaces looked clean, and the air was fresh with a hint of perfume. Black furniture, and red silk curtains hanging from the ceiling provided some tables extravagant privacy on the wall opposite the bar. Large stairs in front of you wound up to the second floor. Another set of double doors were open, revealing a long hallway that disappeared. A glass railing on the second floor surrounded the deck, and you noticed it linked all the way around to a second floor office. The front wall of the office consisted entirely of glass, a suitable viewing precipice for whoever ran this place for your father now.

You spotted a male bartender working, polishing glasses and stocking the bar. A young man, maybe in his late twenties, blonde hair and blue eyes, black uniform t-shirt that simply had 'The Supremacy' in the same font. You walked forward, weaving through the empty tables before you stepped up to the bar. He looked up, smile painted on his previously vacant face, and put down a glass and a polishing rag.

"Welcome!" His eyes raked over your form quickly, and it felt like he was vaguely ogling you. "What's your poison?"

You gave a half assed attempt at a smile, "I'm not here for a drink."

"Hmm," he hummed in interruption, leaning forward on the bar. "A dance? A job, then?"

You bit your lip, "No-"

"I mean, you've got a great body but, darlin’, this is one of the best clubs in town. Girls are dying to dance here."

You were sick of him interrupting you. Ogling you. You had little patience today, so you decided to tell a half-lie just to shut him up. "I know. My Father owns this place." You had no idea of the waiting list to work here, but you pretended.

His face stilled and he leaned back slightly. You pulled your ID from your pocket once again and waved it in front of his face for good measure, then placed it back into your jacket. "I want to talk to Lacy. Is she around?"

He reeled, "Look, I didn't mean no disrespect, I had no idea-"

"I don't give a shit." You interrupted him in turn. "It's important, I just want to see Lacy. I don't know her stripper name but I know she works here."

"She's not in, she hasn't been in for a few days, I don't know her work schedule but I can get the manager? He'll know more than me."

You nodded your head. "Okay, sure."

He leaned over, leaning his hand under the bar, he pressed something and his eyes averted up to the office you had spied previously. He withdrew his hand and picked up the glass and rag once more. "He'll be down in a moment. Wait here."

You nodded, and watched as he moved down the bar slightly, back to restocking the glasses on the wall.

You gazed around, music changing as the dancer walked off the stage after collecting her money, another dancer filling her spot. The men didn't move, cigars between their lips and drinks in hand, patiently waiting to get their fill. All men looked successful, and had amber liquid swirling in their glasses. Suits adorned their bodies and shiny watches adorned their wrists. It was easy to assume this was a classy establishment, catering to more high paying clientele.

Which confused you slightly because this business had originally started as a front. It was a way for your father to launder money from his other ventures that were less than legal. Or a way to siphon a small amount anyway - he had a few legitimate businesses for this purpose now but the Supremacy had been one of the first.

Clearly, the Snoke name was still among high standards of rich and elite of New York. Your father had all sorts of friends in all sorts of places, and almost all of them owed him favors. Politicians, lawyers, moguls - clearly they all wanted to be a part of something bigger, something mysterious. The Snoke crime family.

A blur out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. At the top of the stairs you noticed a tall figure in a dark, all black suit. Pale skin, bright red hair, and a caustic confidence you could feel from basically halfway across the room.

Armitage Hux.

You didn't fight the smirk that curved your lips as your eyes locked with his. A chilling smirk mirrored his lips and he made his way down the stairs. Eyes completely focused on you.

You couldn't believe he was still alive - let alone running the fucking Supremacy. His father had been an advisor of your own. A part of a small council that ran the whole operation. Hux had been around when you were a kid, though he was closer to Ares' and Roman's age than yours.

He had been a smarmy, confident piece of shit growing up. Like a lot of people, he was at your house often. You didn't start getting to know each other until you were a little older, around 12 or 13, before you left for boarding school. You still thought he was a cocky shit, but the two of you had something in common.

A disdain for Lyon.

He seemed to rub a lot of people the wrong way, though you never seemed to mind him too much. But you were a good judge of character - you knew he was manipulative, cunning, cruel even. But he had always had a good head for business, and was loyal to the Snoke family and the Order. If you knew what you were expecting, then it wasn't that bad.

Hux approached the bar, green eyes piercing as he walked closer. He spoke your name with an almost unbelievable exhale. "I didn't know you were back in town."

"Well, you don't know everything."

"Ah, but I do. That's my expertise." He came to stand in front of you, looking you over before leaning against the bar nonchalantly. He looked exactly the same as you remembered, if only aged slightly, soft wrinkles around his eyes. Otherwise his hair was still perfectly gelled back, not a strand out of place, his clothes still immaculately pressed with his usual stiff and rigid posture.

"Never the less, to what do I owe the pleasure?" His eyes shifted to the bartender behind you and he flicked his finger, his attention returned to you. Pale green eyes absorbing your figure. "Tell me you're here for me." You knew you were rather heavy in the chest area, and had an ass to boot, but you weren't under the allusion you were pretty, or gorgeous by any means. In fact you felt particularly plain enough to go under the radar. Though since being home, you hadn't felt more like the opposite. You figured it was the stark growth spurt you had under gone since you were last back home. Last everyone knew - you were just a teenager. Prepubescent and awkward.

"Not quite," you huffed, "I actually just wanted to talk to Lacy." His head raised slightly, eyebrow cocked before realization dawned on his face but you spoke anyway. "She was friends with Mallory."

"Oh... yes. I'm sorry for your loss, I suppose.” You wanted to smile at his awkwardness before he sighed. “Your father has been... never mind. You came all the way here just to talk and reminisce with a stripper?"

Again, you felt the instinctual need to lie, but resisted. "I just wanted to hear some things about Mallory's life, since I've been gone so long." It wasn't a lie, technically.

The bartender's presence interrupted your conversation, and he placed two glasses of scotch down on the bar before making himself scarce. You didn't want to drink, though now it was placed in front of you, you wanted to knock the whole thing back.

"Anything for you." An almost evil, calculating smirk curved his lips. "But first, let's catch up in my office. You owe me that much."

"I don't owe you anything."

He hummed out a laugh, signalling something you didn't know to the bartender and gestured up the stairs towards his office. It was a short walk, though his close presence felt behind you made it feel longer than it actually was. You reached his office, and he opened the double doors, allowing you inside before shutting them behind you.

It was a big area, not wide, but particularly long as it recessed into the building. Half of the office was glass, giving a perfect view to the club below. It was dark grey walls with a flourish of a red velvet couch. A desk with a few papers were scattered on it, and you noticed it was devoid of any type of computer. You guessed your father was still paranoid about any digital trails leading to evidence that could prove hurtful.

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the red velvet seat situated opposite his desk. "It’s been a long time. What have you been up to all these years?"

You walked forward, taking a sip of your drink before collapsing into the comfortable seat, eyes watching Hux as he rounded the desk and followed suit. "Studying..." you shrugged, "working... enjoying life away from my family."

"It would appear so." Hux's eyes flashed with something, and a smirk graced his lips again. "He sent you off to boarding school, you graduated, and never came back. Clearly you were off having fun."

"Fun is for children."

"Which you are not." Again Hux looked over your form.

"You know what he's like, it’s why I didn't come back. Why are you still here?"

"I've worked hard to get where I am today, my loyalty and allegiance to the First Order and the Snoke family-"

"And look what you have to show for it; a strip club?" You interrupted his tirade. "You've done far more than Lyon has and less to show for it. You respect nepotism?"

His nostrils flared at the mention of your brother and you knew that he was still a sore spot for Armitage. "That is but one instance. Not everyone of import in the Order is of your father's blood."

You nodded, "Phasma?"

"Ren."

It was your turn for your nostrils to flare and you quirked a brow. "My father's bodyguard?"

"That's a simplification. I wish his duties were that insignificant."

"Well they are now."

"What do you mean?"

"He's been tasked as my bodyguard while I'm here."

Hux leaned forward at this, elbows resting on his desk, his interest suddenly focused. "Is that so?"

"Why is that so interesting?" This piqued your curiosity. "What does he do for my father exactly?"

Hux seemed to choose his next words carefully. "Ren is his... fidus Achates, his saboteur, his right hand man."

You got that sense with how often he was in your father's office. He was even in his office when he had kicked Lyon out earlier. If anything that was conducive to the fact that he was more trusted than any other man you knew about in the Order. Even when you were a kid, your father didn't have any men that seemed permanently glued to the shadowy corners of the room.

"Whatever problems your father has, Ren makes them go away."

"So like his hitman?" You ask.

"More like a rabid animal." Hux spat the words, and you gathered there was a little contempt from the red headed man. "Kept on leash by only your father and let loose whenever he pleases. You thought he was ruthless before you left? Well, Ren is solving every problem with bloodshed and violence."

"Unnecessarily?" You sipped your drink, leaning back into your seat.

"No, your father points his finger, and Ren takes care of the rest... destroys everything in his path."

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. "If he’s so important why would my Dad assign him to me?"

This made Hux smirk. "Precisely."

You had your perceptions about Armitage, you had known him since you were young. While you didn't trust him exactly, you trusted that you knew him well enough to talk about Mallory.

"He thinks something happened to Mallory."

"I know." Hux sipped the amber liquid. "We've talked about it. While Ren handles the... messier assignments, my strength is acquiring knowledge and intel."

"And what have you found out?"

"Nothing." He didn't look like he was lying, not that you were sure what that even looked like. "Not yet, anyway. Is that why you're here?"

You sipped your drink again, if only to stall time before you answered. "I just wanted to talk to Lacy, but yes."

"And now look at you, talking to me. Isn't this so much better?"

Your mind couldn't help but wander, back to Kylo. So much mystery surrounded him, leaving you in the dark and Hux was finally providing a little light on the situation. And he seemed rather accepting to share. You made a mental note to think of some questions to ask him, hoping that he would give some truthful answers.

About to open your mouth, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you pulled it out of your pocket to see a message from your father. And two missed calls.

Where are you? We're having an early dinner. Just family.

You withheld a sigh that wanted to escape, and you looked back to your company. "I've got to go." You threw back the rest of your whiskey and put it on his desk before standing up.

"So soon?" Hux mirrored your movements. "You just got here."

"I'll see you soon."

He grabbed a pen and paper off his desk, handing it to you. "write down your number, when Lacy comes in I'll let you know."

You wanted to question his helpfulness but decided against it. Feverishly writing down your digits and handing it back to him instead. "Thanks, Hux."

"Of course."

Leaving the Supremacy left you feeling a little defeated. Even though Hux said he would text you when Lacy was next in, it meant today had come to a standstill, stagnant in your search for information. Your next plan was to head to the penthouse, see what possessions of Mallory's was still around, however, your fathers text had brought that idea to a standstill. Maybe you could go later tonight, when everything had calmed down? Jumping back into your car, you sent a quick reply to your Dad

Just at the store getting tampons, leaving now.

You hoped he was grossed out enough by a woman’s basic bodily functions to not want to reply. Starting your car, the V8 grumbling loudly. You pulled from the curb and headed to the direction of your house.

Seeing Hux again after so many years was a refreshing change of pace. He acted the same as he did all those years ago and looked the same too, save for a few wrinkles displaying the passage of time. The two of you catching up was good, and he had divulged some impertinent information regarding your new ‘bodyguard’ that proved fruitful. You hoped next time he would be even more forthcoming.

The drive home was shorter than you expected, just less than an hour. Traffic was light, and you were pulling into the Snoke driveway before you knew it. You wished it had dragged on longer, you half preferred sitting in your car than going inside to drink and eat with your family. You hadn't shed a single tear at the funeral earlier today, and you expected the strong facade you had adapted was going to falter.

As you drove down the long winding driveway, rounding the towering willow trees either side you came into view of the house, and then the garage. The electronic door at the very end already open, you didn’t have time to be confused as a tall, dark form came into view.

Kylo.

He was standing in your spot, a cigarette dangling between his fingers as his dark eyes stared at you. His stoic form didn't move until you came forward, moving so you could park your car in the area he had occupied. You killed the engine once you parked and didn't have time to open your door before he had done it for you.

"Welcome home." You grabbed your belongings from the seat beside you and looked up at the man standing over you. Once you were clear, he shut the drivers side door, and blocked the way to inside the house. You tried to maneuver around him but he moved to defer you.

This caused you to sigh. Your eyes darted up to meet his.

"Yes?"

"Your father’s been worried."

You rolled your eyes. "I was gone for a few hours, so that's his problem."

"And his problems become my own." He stepped forward, the small distance between you became even smaller. "If you don't want me to come with you then you at least need to tell me where you're going."

It was obvious now what he was getting at. Your little field trip to go see Hux had apparently not gone unnoticed. Or, well, to the store to get tampons if your message was to be believed. You didn't think your father was going to be enforcing the whole bodyguard thing so intensely, or so quickly. Though an idea came to mind.

"You seem like a moderately intelligent guy..." Your eyes looked over his form. "Built for brute force rather than a boring protective detail of the little old likes of me." His full, pink lips encompassed the cigarette to take a puff and it almost momentarily made you falter. His hum pulled you from your thoughts of what they could have felt like and you continued. "I have a proposition for you."

"And what would that be?"

"Surely you have more important things to deal with. Which is why, if you want to do your own thing while I do my own, that's totally understandable - in fact, its actually preferable." For the first time since you've been home you tried to plaster a welcoming smile on your face. Trying hard to seem like a demure little girl your Dad had painted you to be.

Kylo expelled a huff of breath, something akin to a laugh. Your smile faltered slightly at the thought of him laughing at you.

"Your father relies on my ability to perfectly..." he searched for the proper words, throwing his cigarette over your shoulder onto the concrete behind you. "execute whatever he asks of me."

"And you can do that, really make a difference!" It was hard to try appear as chipper as you were. Manipulation was a hard game, and you were not a happy person. "Instead of following me to the mall, or to see my friends while I'm here, you can strive to make my Dad proud."

You weren't much of a shopper, and you had no friends here to speak of. It was a low shot, but you hoped by his assumptions on your gender and what most women liked to do, you could get away with the lie.

"Your father informed me of your shrewd capabilities." You didn't know it was possible but he walked forward another step, closing the distance between you two. You had to strain your head to look up at him. He spoke with a deep conviction that conveyed anger being tethered by a small sliver of control. "It's why he chose me for the job. I won't be swayed so easily, especially by a spoiled little princess."

Your smile faltered, and you felt your rage flourish at his words. Suddenly, you couldn't be bothered with this shit. You would think about it later, when your mind wasn't so clouded with the thought of Mallory. "Good luck." You moved past him, looking over your shoulder as you walked into the door that led to the house, shooting him one last look. "Haven’t you heard? I’m cursed.”

He watched you walk away, exhaling the last cloud of smoke through his nostrils. The door to the garage slammed before he dug his hand deep into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small gps tracker. Getting down on the floor, he leaned underneath your car by the rear wheel frame. Pulling off the small adhesive backing, he pressed it to the metal where it would be hidden. Flicking the switch to activate, he quickly paired the device to the app on his phone before getting up, and following suit into the Snoke manor.

#kylo x reader #kylo ren x reader #kylo x you #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren au #kylo ren imagine #carpe noctem #adam driver #adam driver x reader

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author-morgan · 3 years

Note

what is your secret to being able to write so many different situations for the likes of Alexios, Deimos, and Eivor but managing to characterize them perfectly every single time? it’s astounding how organic they feel in your stories, how when reading I have no trouble at all imagining them actually doing or saying things. one of the few authors I know who can extrapolate and properly characterize these complex characters.

♥️🙏🏻😩 thank youuu though a lady never reveals her secrets 😂 but there are just some characters out there where something just clicks and makes it a lot easier to get a grasp on the motives for their actions and how they may act in different situations when im writing.

im always happy and grateful to hear people are enjoying my stories and I hope you continue to do so.

also, shoutout to @kvitravn for providing so many great plot bunnies, especially for Eivor. we make for deadly duo when our minds come together.

#sierra replies #my writing #y’all just don’t know how much these messages mean to me

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synnefo-nefeli · 4 years

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So I’m going to try writing again.

Strange Days B-Sides: Open call for prompts

Since I wound up moving the last chapter to the main story, Strange Days, I am out of ideas for the b-sides.

The whole point of tge b-sides is to expand on things happening off-screen, with other characters, the world in general that I may not have time to fit into the main story.

I’m kinda a croc-hunter writer: I see a plot bunny and so I gotta wrassle it.

Sometimes this works for the main story, other times it takes the story into tangents- I once wrote a 100+ chapter fic for Gundam 00 (Sacrificed) and due to me shoving in side stories into the main story essentially was kinda all over the place, distracted me from the main plot.

So that’s why I have the b-sides. They’re mean to be side-stories for when I’m in between Strange Days updates.

I’m opening my ask for prompts tho from my readers who may want me to extrapolate on/feature certain characters etc.

So if you like my Ace Attorney Omegaverse AU, please drop me a line if you have an idea!

Story Collection is here if you want to check it out!

Strange Days is mainly a klapollo story, with Narumitsu as the side pairing. It’s 15 chapters long atm

Stranger Stories: The b-Sides features one shot chapters detailing characters such as Clay, Simon, Miles, and creepy bastard Kristoph.

It’s at 5 chapters atm.

Thanks!

#ace attorney #klapollo #apollo justice #klavier gavin #narumitsu #phoenix wright #wrightworth #miles edgeworth

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spark-fandom-writing-newsletter · 5 years

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Spark: Newsletter Archive

The free writing/fandom newsletter. Written by you and me and welcoming every fandom! Subscribe

2022

Starburst: The Path to Publication | 8 Who Did

How to Guarantee An Editor Reads Your Work

2021

Write What You Know Is Bunk | Extrapolate you Jedi, you wizard, you woman!

Literary Necromancy | Resurrecting Dead Stories (Maybe)

Working Overtime | Finding Time to Write (Part 2)

2020

Working Overtime | Finding Time to Write (Part 1)

What’s Next? | You tell me

6 Great Reasons to Never Make Money as a Writer (Really)

What's Your Story? | (And why we want to know...)

Small Wonders

Playing Favourites | Genres, Tropes, Words We Love

Working From Home | Hope & Cope

Meetups, Conferences, and Conventions — Part II

Meetups, Conferences, and Conventions — Part I

How to Make a Creative Mess

Villains, Angst, & Dead Doves—Why We Love the Dark

2019

Writer, Recharge Thyself!

Comments Bright & Dark, Part II

Start Small…to Start

Comments Bright & Dark, Part I

Mantras—The words that get us through

Can It Be Christmas Again?

Improving as a Writer: How We Do It

First Lines, Last Lines, and Cliffhangers

Writing Beside the Black Dog: Depression, Anxiety and More

Weird Habits, Superstitions, and Rituals: How we create

Origin Stories: Everyone's Journey is Different

The Fandom That Changed Everything

Finding Your Writing Voice

Lurking—The Silent Readers

Coping With Writing Setbacks

You are Not $#@&%* Cheating

Writing Under Pressure

Farewell Fandom: Why we go, why we stay, when we mix

Canon Doesn't Matter

2018

Giving to Get + Fandom in Strange Places

Tell me more, again, you wonder, you?

Fic, Fandom & Sexuality

Friendship Through Fandom

Fueling Fic With Your Real Life

Top Bottom Bi Ace—It's All Fine

Editing: Word Vomit Now, Fix Later

Collaborating & How It Helps You Write

Search History Insanity

Shipping Your OTP: Now Kiss

Fuck the Fetish: Turning Your Back on Accusations

Comparison is the Thief of Joy

How to Murder Your Plot Bunnies

Tell Me Something

Pseuds and Anons

Drabbles—When Tiny Is a Bit Better

Cannibalise Yourself—Turning Fic Into Stories You Can Sell

Kinks in the Tale—Kink-Shaming

Unsticking Your YOU (Part II)

Unsticking a Story When You're Stuck

No Shame—Sex and Fan Fic Part II

No Shame—Sex and Fan Fic Part I

F*&% That Right In the Ear (Write Whatever the Hell You Want)

Betas and Feedback

Translation is Treason, And Other Dramatic Truths

Fic: Famous People Who Did It First—Part 2

Fic: Why We Write Fan Fiction—Part 1

Breaking the Block—Writer's Block

The Truth About Fic Tropes (Hint: They're Terrific)

How to Set Your Writing On Fire

2017

You're the Spark

Act It Out

Tips to Get Your Writing Butt In That Chair

Editors Speak—What They Want

Fear Fight—What're You Afraid Of?

A City Runs Through It: Putting Place In Your Stories

Podfic Tips, Audiobooks, Interviews—Oh My!

Good Addictions

Going Pro

Writing Right Now

Which Holmes Has Your Heart?

Game Play—Playing Games to Help You Write

Spark the First—A Valentine's Newsletter

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The free fandom-writing newsletter. Written by you and me and welcoming every fandom!

#spark #archive

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uraharabyakuya · 5 years

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Rant: ChenQingLing is a disgrace.

Disclaimer: this is a rant, and it’s antiCQL. So those who like it, pls ignore and refrain from posting your counter arguments to me. I just want to vent my displeasure of this live action and only welcome those who agree with me to comment and share.

Being a massive fan of MDZS, I just have to get this off my chest. I am sick of all these brainwashing and gaslighting by so called “fans” of the original work who are singing high praises for this shambles of an adaptation.

The live action series should be ashamed of themselves because they’re simply using the popularity and following from the franchise and totally disrespecting the core of the story and characters. Before these nincompoops come and wax lyrical about adaptations being different from the source material, there is an obvious difference between a genuine adapatation to screen whereby the major plot lines are maintained, the core stories are maintained, the character histories are maintained and superfluous or extrapolated materials are minimised, also where there are obvious gaps of non-explained or non-elaborated space only is where things are created and imagined. Whereas a rubbish excuse of an adaptation is what CQL has done. Because what it did was to use the characters names, take the fantasy world setting and cool elements, and then totally walk over the storyline by completely meshing and mixing and stirring everything and everyone into a big pot of dog poo. And testament to them just using the franchise’s popularity to milk money and attention is by completely unashamedly BL-bait with all the WangXian interactions including many that are either not in the book or extras, or not in the right context or scene, or completely nonexistent and made up. And then the shameless tag that it’s just a platonic bromance since censorship in China wouldn’t allow this. Right.

So let’s talk about the plot. So WWX is not some grandmaster of demonic cultivation since it has already been going on behind the scenes with Xue Yang casually helping WRH practise some hardcore demonic cultivation and the fact that the Tiger Stygian Amulet is just some relic that’s been around for ages. Nothing to do with WWX’s ingenuity and talent for harnessing the resentful energy stored in that sword found at the TuLuXuanWu cave. Then apparently the TianNu statue that comes to life was already something that he and LWJ had encountered before in their youth whilst they go along to hunt for the Amulet pieces. And then WQ apparently is able to influence the zombified with a flute like instrument anyway. And then apparently Lan Yi and WWX’s mum knew each other cos nothing spells more destined love than when your respective previous generation also had some sort of bond and connection. And the bunnies were really reared by her so not a sweet little homage of the Wangxian love. And the forehead ribbon is not just ugly aesthetics wise but LWJ can’t decide if he’s steadfast about it or he is nonchalant about taking it off and tying it onto WWX’s wrist even when he was not intoxicated. And then WWX was already using some unexplained paper puppet powers which was apparently not seen as demonic cultivation in his youth to mess about, and he apparently could manipulate LWJ quite easily to get him drunk. And when things that are not canon like LXC and JGY they just had to make their first meeting so obviously charged with innuendo. And then WQ since the actress invested in the series, had to be important, so she is given some all so noble duty of being the good guy in the bad camp who is doing stuff that she doesn’t want to but she is still good and should be liked though she’s still a bad guy nonsense trope. So she goes to GuSu to get the amulet piece for WRH, because only when he gets the piece will she be able to somehow bring WN away. And WN was a great enough character both alive and dead as the Ghost General with his design from the source material, but no, they want to embellish it that he’s afflicted with some condition that makes him susceptible to being possessed and taken over by evil spirits. Wtf. And naturally, WQ should somehow capture JC’s eye, because why would JC want to be infatuated with a Wen person when eventually they cause the demise of his parents and his clan. But hey maybe he’d be so selective thinking WQ didn’t do it though so that’s okay. Like wtf.

Let’s talk about the actors. I like WWX’s look, the actor has a good face, he “looks” like a WWX, but damn his acting is bad. And damn, he cannot do the duality of WWX, because he does not exude that dangerous aura and the strength and power that WWX naturally possess because of his natural abilities, evident even before he was a Yiling Patriarch, much less if this guy wants to play a convincing Patriarch. He does all these ogling of LWJ from the get go since they met, cue all the cheap BL baiting. And he pouts and stomps his feet and acts cute the whole time. WWX is cheeky, naughty, devious, mischievous, but not girly, not a sissy. Wtf. Then we move onto LWJ. So that guy is some boy and heartthrob, but damn he has neither r looks nor the presence nor the acting skills to touch LWJ. WTF. The moment he appeared he made me want to slap LWJ, want to cry for his ru8ning of his whole imagery. The action sequence is so wooden, and the expressions are so constipated or dead. Everybody else looked bad. The actors I think chosen right for their looks were WWX, WN (alive version, the ghost general version has such awful make up it makes me cringe), NHS, JGY, XY (he apparently got to get a good looking dude to play him who also looks kind of evil and yet looks like an anime character walked out of the anime) and maybe JC (that’s because aesthetically he actually can be considered good looking and that is ridiculous because he’s better looking than the Twin Jades of Lan in this). LXC and his butt chin hurts my eyes. WRH looking like some voodoo witch doctor gone drag in his evil volcanic dungeon lair makes me want to throw an encyclopaedia at someone’s head violently. NMJ looking like a complete perverted uncle complete with hentai stache is just blasphemous. JZX just looks weird, no better way to put it.

So onto the make up, costumes and props. Make up is so shit that you can see up close where spots are done smoothed over or powdered down, the gore or the effects of veins and wounds are so fake and so obviously drawn on it looked like a 6yo went to arts class and took some marker pen and crayon and created these outcomes. The props are so cheap that the ghost hand looks like a rubber Halloween glove you get from the prop shop around the corner, the deity binding ropes look exactly like rough ropes. The Emperor Smile bottles look so tiny and white that it looks more like medicine bottles on ancient times than an expensive alcohol bottle. Where’s the YunMeng silver bell, the jade piece on LWJ’s robe. The forehead ribbon looks so cheap because it’s too thin and the stupid metallic piece in the middle is ridiculous. Why can’t they just stick with the original to have the silk cloth with the cloud patterns embroidered on the cloth. And the clothes, Lan sect is supposed to be ethereal, so why are they dressed in such plain white and tight clothes. They should have the flowing sleeves, the light blue tones, and the cloud embroidery. YunMeng needs to have their original violet colour, the Wen Sect does not need to be full body red like they’re getting married (see WQ), and the Jin sect needs their golden robes with the centrepiece of the JinXinXueLang peony, not some watered down white with yellow hues and nothing else to show for it. And what is with LWJ’s hair do and hair piece, it has such a disgusting look to it and it doesn’t look right. Do the bun properly and the accessory properly, not some weird plop of hair right in front on top of his head and then put a flat piece of elaborate metal on top of it.

I had been looking forward to seeing the epic ness of MDZS brought to the small screen. I had been completely prepared for changes in terms of the romance line being cut, but I fully expected the main storylines to be followed and perhaps elaborated on. Not to be chopped and changed and meshed up and violated like they’ve done so. And with the ability to get some really lovely natural scenery and some of the sets that actually look good eg the Lotus seat in Yun Meng was elaborate and intricate. So why won’t they invest in the right places like making the make up perfect, getting the costumes and looks correct, getting actual actors who can act cos even if they don’t look aesthetically good enough but if they’re solid actors it would flow so much better, and more vitally, why don’t they retell and elaborate on the existing epic storyline as it is! That’s the core of it, the MDZS storyline and major scenes are so awesome wit( their backstories, no changes need to be made, but merely elaborated and extrapolated on, not to be comepltely vandalised and violated. My heart breaks as for the sake of my love for MDZS, I’ve watched 8 eps and had to stop and restart so many times because of how jarring, unnatural, awkward, infuriating, irritating and frustrating the factors above contribute to my viewing. And now the greatness of MDZS as an original source material will forever be tainted by the sacrilege that is the Untamed.

#mdzs #the untamed #wwx #lwj #modaozushi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #chen qing ling is a disappointment #mo dao zu shi anime #mo dao zu shi audio drama

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windwardstar · 4 years

Text

How to write otoha kuroki

Or: this is actually a really good way of nailing down a character and boiling them down to their essential parts.

Inspired by @writer-and-artist27 and helping each other to write the characters

First off:

Otoha uses they/them/their pronouns when writing in english. Doesn't describe themself in terms of either binary gender and doesn't use gendered terms or pronouns for themself.

Otoha is basically an a posteriori character. They started with the basis of a fully formed human as a starting point for their life and weren't formed whole-cloth from nothing. So basically, Otoha is an extrapolation of my own experiences. Specifically if we took all the maladaptive coping strategies (aka survival in a fucking chaotic house) and then put the character /back/ into an environment where they were adaptive. (Aka: ptsd keeping you alive when people are constantly trying to kill you but being a real inconvenience in the supermarket.)

There is also a significant presence of "this would be funny, cool, going with the motif I created for the character, I have an idea and I'm gonna write it because this story is indulging the plot bunnies and inspiration to write first and foremost."

Ok so Otoha

They are utterly ruthless. They will do anything to achieve their goals. The social norms of the world around them are a structure to play within if they need to, but aren't exactly something they take into account unless it affects their goals. They will do whatever it takes to survive.

They are driven. They tackle a goal with single minded determination. If they decide they are going to do something, they will do it.

This means that they excel at what they do. They expect perfection from themself. They expect slightly less perfection from others. After all, when failure means death, that's a big incentive.

Otoha is basically made up of survival mode. They got rid of the whole connecting with their emotions thing. Which basically means they're a high strung ball of anxiety who likes to pretend they're /fine/. Showing emotion is weakness and weakness gets you killed.

They're not bothered by the killing and violence part of their job. That shit's familiar. It's easy. Just kill the other guy before he kills you.

Otoha is a fucking hypocrite when it comes to the whole "konoha has shit mental health and people need to talk about their feelings so they don't become consumed by them." They'll encourage others to deal with things in a healthy way but pretend their own shit doesn't exist.

The only thing keeping them from being the next big bad is that they have a very very strong sense of right and wrong. And that means not hurting others. (Killing people as part of their job falls under "it's not murder if it's war and you're both wearing uniforms.) They are absolutely devoted to the people they consider family.

Their goals: survive, ensure kei survives, ensure tomoko survives, ensure the characters orbiting those two survive, (so that they can accomplish their goals of improving canon), work in the background to help ensure kei and tomoko can make the changes. Don't get caught. Don't get noticed. You're there to ensure things go right.

They view the naruto world as fiction. It's all made up. Nobody there is actually real. Maybe they're not even real. But kei and tomoko are. And those two treat the world as real, so Otoha is going to help them. They're slowly learning they can make changes that neither tomo or kei made in their stories and that it's ok. This is generally coupled with tying that to the few people otoha views as "real" rather than "background character" (aka otoha helping their genin team) and which otoha knows will affect the plot later (the whole hyuga clan thing).

Which is basically all a fancy way of saying otoha conceptualizes their existence as an extension of the plot. They're there to help things work out for the protagonists. They're not really a person. Nobody around them is really. They exist to be whatever they need to be.

They're still themself. That is something they clung to though. They had a strong sense of identity before and that's what got them through things then. So, they use that and the lessons they had learned to get through it now. They don't think of themself as two distinct people (os from earth and otoha from naruto). They are a continuation.

They think in English. This started out because they needed a language to think in and not knowing Japanese meant that they stuck to what they knew. Then it became a security measure. And it stuck. They were able to use it as a code.

They technically speak Japanese with an american English accent. It raises eyebrows. So that's also a reason they tend not to speak as much.

They translate everything. One of the reasons Otoha doesn't speak a lot or only around people they know well is because the formality system is just fucking exhausting to deal with and they stick with one register most of the time. They use echolalia a lot because it's easier than input+mostly automatic translation>formulate response> actively translate>speak. (Also see the point above about being constant anxiety and survival mode. That makes speaking at all harder.) Japanese is a second (technically more than a second but we'll ignore that) language for them.

They are fond of their parents. They raised otoha. They were kind. But they were also gone a lot bein' ninja and all and Otoha tried to be dependant on them for as little as possible. And then when they became ninja, even less.

They're also still autistic. And hypersensitive to basically everything. Including chakra. Think of it like being able to see lights from a distance or feel static. It's an ability to feel something that is there rather than something like sonar which is deciphering the presence of something by the way something else reacts to it (sound waves bouncing around).

They're really really good at ignoring pain and physical limits. They did it in their past life and continue to do it in their present.

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feelingfredly · 5 years

Text

Tea for Two, part 2

Summary:

Never underestimate the capabilities of a guinea pig.

Or, what happens when Ichigo gets even.

Notes:

So, my brain refused to let the plot bunny go and now we have part two, from Ichigo's POV.

This bit qualifies for its E rating a little more than the last one, but it's still just a fun, cracky ride. Enjoy!

Kisuke’s ego was monumental.

Ichigo was certain that if it had a physical form it would be visible from space. He could just imagine the conversations on the space station. Oh look, there are the Pyramids at Giza, the Greenhouses of Almería, Urahara Kisuke’s ego…

The problem was that it wasn’t undeserved. The man was ridiculously capable, whether he was applying modern insights into resurrecting lost kidō or making curry, there was nothing he set his mind to that he didn’t have a better than average shot at making work. Then, add decades of training in the Onmitsukido and you had a hyper-vigilant, paranoid genius with a tendency towards manipulation and an almost preternatural ability to sense deception from others.

It was incredibly sexy when it wasn’t making him want to bash his head into a wall. Or bash Kisuke’s head into a wall.

Ichigo also knew that he, on the other hand, had a negative ability to lie, a terrible tendency to just steam-roll through the niceties of social situations, and a total—some would say suicidal—disregard for rules and regulations when he thought they were stupid, or wrong, or, Gods forbid, both. It was probably why Kisuke loved him.

Sometimes, though…. Sometimes he just wanted to take that competence and shove it down Kisuke’s ridiculously long, smooth, sexy, ahem… well… just make him choke on it.

Like now.

“Let me make sure I understand you.” He tried to keep his tone level. “You’re saying that the only way I could ever drug you was if you allowed it.”

Kisuke tilted his hat a little so Ichigo could see his eyes and grinned. “Exactly, Ichigo-kun. I knew there was something in the tea and went along with it. You’d never do anything permanently damaging, and it was only fair after you’ve been so…” the eyes crinkled around the edges a little and Ichigo frowned, “accommodating.”

“You make me sound like a kagema,” Ichigo groused. Accommodating. He’d show the old pervert accommodating.

“Don’t be like that, Ichigo-kun,” Kisuke was trying for soothing, but it just set his hackles up further. “You know how much I value your trust and willingness to…”

“To be your guinea pig?” Ichigo finished for him. Kisuke didn’t press the point.

The hat came back down a fraction. “Human testing is always the hardest part of biological experimentation.”

“I can imagine.” Ichigo could feel the flush on his cheekbones.

“Ichigo,” Kisuke leaned forward and put a hand out, “I only meant that after all my years of training it would be impossible for me not to notice if someone was attempting to drug me. I wasn’t saying that I didn’t trust you.”

Ichigo shrugged that off with a huff. “Oh, I know that. That’s not the point.”

Kisuke looked completely confused, now. It was oddly endearing.

“Then what has you so distressed?”

Ichigo threw an exasperated look at the stupidest genius he knew. “The fact that you truly believe I couldn’t do it.”

***

“Dinner was lovely, Ichigo-kun.”

Ichigo hid his satisfied smile with a little bow of thanks as he took the dishes to the sink to wash them.

“I especially liked the addition of valerian to the soup. It wasn’t enough to make the bonito bitter, but it was very relaxing.”

Fuck.

***

“I would never turn down a massage, Ichigo-kun, but next time could you skip the wolfsbane? I would much prefer to be able to feel your hands when they’re on me, rather than this numbness.”

Ichigo shook his hands, silently cursing the tingling in his fingers.

“Yeah,” he agreed sheepishly. “Definitely no more wolfsbane.”

“Whatever you say, Ichigo-kun,” Kisuke smiled slowly as he rolled over onto his back, sliding his hands up Ichigo’s thighs where he was straddled, and the heat of him between Ichigo’s legs awakened a deep desire beneath the pleasant relaxation left by the massage, “Luckily, my lips aren’t numb.”

Fuck.

***

The glass hovered an inch below Kisuke’s lips and then was lowered to the table with an audible click.

“Ichico-kun?”

“Yes, Kisuke?”

The blond tilted his head to one side a fraction. “Are you aware that the amount of tetradoxin in fugu required to kill a man is measured in micrograms?”

“Here,” Ichigo reached over and removed the glass, “let me get you a new drink.”

“Thank you.”

Fuck.

***

“Look, for the last time, I don’t have a drug problem.”

Isshin frowned and held the prescription pad even more tightly to his chest. “That is exactly what an addict would say.”

Ichigo scrubbed his hand through his hair. “It’s for Kisuke, not me. I need to knock him out. Again.”

Isshin’s eyebrows rose even higher. “You’re drugging your boyfriend? Is he mistreating you? Do we need to have an intervention? I told you he wasn’t to be trusted before you allowed him to sully your innocence, but you wouldn’t listen. I should call Karin and Yuzu, maybe the other Captains… we will save you from your perverted lover, my son. I swear!”

Ichigo groaned.

Fuck.

***

Six weeks.

He’d been trying to dose Kisuke for six weeks.

He’d researched more plants, drugs, and poisons in the past month than most med students do in their entire careers. Add to that trying to extrapolate how those substances would work on a gigai relative to how they worked on humans. It was insane.

Weirdly, he was having a blast.

“I think I understand the drugged tea experiments better now.”

Kisuke looked up from the notes he was working on and quirked a silent eyebrow. His hat had been lost earlier in a bout of athletic kissing, and his lips were still puffy and pink in a way that did strange things to Ichigo’s heartrate.

“I mean, I’m no mad scientist, but there is definitely something about setting up the experiment, having your expectations, and then watching how it all plays out. Even if it doesn’t turn out the way you want, it’s still quite… exciting.”

Something shifted behind Kisuke’s eyes and Ichigo could feel his heart kick up a pace. He knew that look.

“You may not have reached mad scientist status yet,” Kisuke’s voice was low and Ichigo had to focus to hear it, “but your attention to detail has been… admirable.”

Ichigo had been the center of Kisuke’s attention to detail on more than one occasion, and he wondered if the blond was enjoying it as much as he typically did.

“Hmmm,” he stretched forward and crawled into Kisuke’s lap, allowing himself to go back to those addictive pink lips, “I’ve always strived to be admirable.”

Kisuke’s hands wrapped around his waist and then slid lower.

Fuck.

***

He was covered in dust. It was the worst part of Hueco Mundo.

“How was your visit with Grimmjow-san?” Kisuke sauntered out of the storeroom, his eyes trailing over Ichigo’s destroyed shihakusho, hovering over the two still sluggishly bleeding cuts on his side where Grimmjow had landed a couple of lucky shots.

“Oh, he’s just great. Vicious as ever. He asked when you were going to come and let him fight with your crimson bitch again.”

Kisuke nodded once. “I promised that Benihime would slice him in two the next time they met. He was oddly pleased by that.”

Ichigo stretched and groaned. “Yup, sounds just like the big blue psycho. I swear, I can’t tell if he’s a sadist or a masochist.”

Kisuke smirked. “Why not both?”

Ichigo snorted. Kisuke would take the both option. Hell, he was the both option.

“I don’t want to admit that he might be that complex. It just makes the whole thing easier if I think he’s one or the other.”

Kisuke nodded again and reached out to help him shrug out of his kosode.

“Either way his first goal is to try to kill you,” he said, “so best not to waste mental processing space on the why of it.”

Ichigo hissed as the black material pulled away from his wounds, the fabric tugging a little where blood had dried and made it stick. “Careful Kisuke,” he said with a huff, “let Grimm do his own dirty work.”

The blond head lowered and Ichigo shivered a little at the light drag of lips across injured skin.

“Grimmjow-san can, indeed, do his own dirty work, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love it when you are so delightfully dirty.”

In the time they’d been together, Ichigo had learned at least one thing. Nothing got Kisuke worked up faster than seeing him either mid or just-post-battle. Something about the torn, worn, sweaty look of him after a fight pushed every one of the blond’s buttons.

“Kisuke,” he said, shoving the taller man away a little, “come on. I’m gross. Let me grab a shower and then you can take advantage of my weakened state all you want.”

Kisuke’s fingers dug a little deeper into the meat of his hips and Ichigo couldn’t help his stuttering inhalation. It was easy to forget how strong the other man actually was.

“Shower Kisuke. You can join me if you want.” Ichigo pried his hands away, and grinned up at him. “Maybe then you could make me another one of those curare teas if you still have some lying around. I wouldn’t mind the view.”

Kisuke’s eyebrows rose comically and Ichigo took the opportunity to dodge free, leaving the blond grinning behind him as he made for the bathroom.

Ichigo stripped the remains of his shihakusho away and climbed into the glass cubicle, only then reaching out to turn on the water. Kisuke was naked behind him before it even began to warm.

Hot lips latched onto the sensitive spot at the base of his neck, teeth worrying the skin until Ichigo knew he’d have a violently purple mark when he was done.

“I swear you have your own Hollow,” he said on a groan, “there’s no other way to explain your obsession with biting me.”

Kisuke huffed out a laugh that sent waves of goosebumps rippling along Ichigo’s back, “Don’t blame me because you’re delectable.”

“At least you don’t blame the whole strawberry thing,” Ichigo said arching into the biting kisses, not bothering to stifle a moan when Kisuke hit a particularly good spot.

“No,” the blond agreed, “your skin is many things, but ‘sweet and fruity’ wouldn’t be on my list of adjectives.”

There was a pause, and Ichigo smiled silently into the water falling in his face. Gotcha.

“Normally bitter wouldn’t be on that list either,” Kisuke’s delivery was as bland as plain rice, “but clearly something is different today.”

“It’s just the dirt, I told you I was gross,” Ichigo was so proud that he didn’t laugh, but it still wasn’t flying.

“No, I know what Hueco Mundo dirt tastes like, more’s the pity, and this is decidedly different.”

Ichigo turned in Kisuke’s arms and pressed their fronts together. “Maybe it’s my new soap?”

The taller man shook his head and smiled, “No, I got a mouthful of that this morning when I was...” the grin widened into a smirk, “No. This… this is decidedly new.”

Ichigo tilted his head back allowing the water to rinse the dust and dirt from his hair. “Hmmm. I can’t imagine what it could be. I mean, if Mr. I-could-never-be-drugged doesn’t know what it is.”

Kisuke let out a groan and dropped his head into the crook of Ichigo’s neck and shoulder. “Will you never let that go? I told you it was just because of my training…”

Ichigo snorted. “That wasn’t about training. That was about ego. Yours. The size of Mt. Fuji.”

Silver-gray eyes peeked out at him. “Just Mt. Fuji? You aren’t going to go for, say, Everest?”

Another snort. “See? Ego. Can’t even settle for your that being smaller than something else. Shall we continue this discussion or move straight on to the penis measuring?”

A water-slick hand shot out and grasped his cock and gave a tantalizingly slow pump. “I would have figured you’d have memorized that by now.”

It was true. Ichigo had everything about Kisuke’s cock memorized—size, weight, texture, taste—but this wasn’t the time to get side-tracked.

“Regardless of my knowledge of your junk,” Kisuke choked on a laugh and Ichigo couldn’t help but smile, “Before it becomes impossible, I would like you to admit that I have, in fact, successfully dosed you with something that you were unaware of, don’t recognize, and would have no way of combating.”

Kisuke sighed and leaned forward, pressing a light kiss on his lips. “So admitted. Now, are you going to tell me what I just licked off your shoulder, or am I just going to be your guinea pig for the evening?”

Ichigo reached down and trailed his fingers across Kisuke’s semi-hard length, reveling in the full-body shudder that accompanied the motion.

“I really wanted to figure out how to dose you with the hypersensitization stuff, but I figured that anything you’ve tested on me was out. You’d have familiarized yourself with all the information about it.”

Kisuke hummed in agreement. “That was a logical assumption.” He busied his hands soaping Ichigo’s back. “So that means this isn’t something we’ve, ah, investigated before?”

“No.” He turned to let Kisuke rinse him. Oh well, getting a mouthful into him was enough for his purposes. “Although, knowing you I’m surprised that you didn’t recognize it immediately. People call you an old pervert often enough.”

Gray eyes widened a fraction. “So, it’s that kind of evening I’m in for, hmmm?”

Ichigo nodded. “You’d have been in for that kind of night whether you discovered my trick or not. This way it’s just going to be a little more… interesting.”

Kisuke dropped his head and nibbled along the long tendon that stretched along his jawline. “Interesting. I can work with interesting.”

They didn’t speak for a few minutes, hands and mouths exploring each other under the falling water.

“Let’s move this into the bedroom before the warm water runs out,” Ichigo said, breaking up Kisuke’s lamprey imitation where he was attempting to leave “Kisuke was here” in love bites along Ichigo’s shoulder.

They tripped and dripped their way down the hall, drying each other haphazardly with towels in between breaks to kiss and touch and leave each other breathless, until they finally dropped onto the futon.

“So,” Kisuke said, his voice a little rough around the edges, “are you going to tell me what you used?”

Their hips were slotted together and Ichigo rocked his hips, rutting against Kisuke. A pool of wetness gathered on his stomach as his foreskin pulled back exposing his glans, the skin a shiny red, sensitive and oh so tempting, and the blond moaned at the feeling.

“I used what any young lover uses when he wants a good hard fucking from an older partner.” He leaned up and nipped at Kisuke’s earlobe. “Sildenafil.”

Kisuke reared back a stunned look on his face. “You dosed me with erectile dysfunction medication?”

Ichigo bucked his hips up again, sliding their cocks together once more, and answered a little breathlessly. “I did. Ryuuken thought it was hysterical. And remember, ah,” he tried to focus on the words, “an erection lasting more than four hours may require further intervention.”

Kisuke rolled them to where Ichigo was straddling him and dragged his hard-on through the cleft of his ass and along Ichigo’s sensitive entrance.

“If I have an erection for more than four hours,” he said, his voice full of promise, “I am not the one who is going to be needing assistance.”

“Fuck, Kisuke,” Ichigo couldn’t have stopped the words if he’d tried. He wanted so much. Screw the whole drugging contest. He just wanted Kisuke. “Please.”

Long fingers ripped open the bedside drawer with more haste than grace, and Kisuke grabbed the new jar of lubricant he’d placed there earlier. He slicked his fingers generously before returning to Ichigo’s ass, pushing slowly, inexorably, against the dark pucker there.

“Oh, I will,” he said, beginning the long, drawn-out process of taking Ichigo apart before the release of putting him back together again. “In about three and a half hours.”

Fuck.

#Bleach #UraIchi #Kurosaki Ichigo #Urahara Kisuke #smut and fluff #getting even #consensual tea drugging

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dreamersscape · 5 years

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Note: This ask is from ages upon ages ago, and I’d like to offer my deepest apologies to whoever requested this. It was very important to me that I answer thoroughly and in as articulate a manner as possible, and I’m embarrassed how slow accomplishing that took me. I hope that somehow you’re able to see this post, and you’re able to get something out of my rambling.

Thank you again for your patience in awaiting my answer, nonnie! I’m excited to put this headcanon of mine into words. It’s not often I have really specific and/or detailed HCs, I’ll admit; usually I stick to extrapolating off of canon. And while that’s sort of what I’ve done here, it seems to have happened mostly on a subconscious level, stewing until I realized a pattern forming within nearly all my fic plot bunnies.

It’s also possibly a key to how I understand Allan as a character, so… that’s kinda cool.

Okay, so Allan doesn’t really present as an overly anxious person, does he? At least, not in comparison to some of the other characters, like Much, who is utterly incapable of suppressing his anxiety. If Much is feeling apprehensive about something, you’re going to know it. So why then did I begin to notice my habit of, once he’s been stressed past a certain point, characterizing Allan’s emotional breaking points almost always as him tailspinning into a state of profound anxiety/panic? Well, partly because Allan just really REALLY sucks at dealing with negative experiences/emotions. His preferred method of coping with anything is to internalize the heck out of it, stuff it deep down inside, and then hope he never has to think about it ever again i.e. avoidance at all costs. And that appears to work… for awhile. He’s good at living in the present, ignoring past events and future repercussions. (Side note: a big reason why I also think substance abuse or other similar escapes could be quite alluring to him.) Eventually though, because it’s never been dealt with or even confronted, something triggers the release of all that pent up stress and negativity. He basically builds this towering pile of Bad Things, and so when it gets knocked over, it manages to completely overwhelm him. But until he’s thrown off-kilter and the pile loses balance and tips over, he’s mostly able to coast along, maintaining a relatively calm exterior while mired in turbulent inner seas.

Now, I realize I haven’t given much in the way of evidence for this yet, or explained why I think this all happens within the framework of a very anxious mindset. Hopefully I’m getting there. But that preceding paragraph is there to show how I find I characterize Allan as a result. (I probably wouldn’t have figured out this pattern of sorts if I could ever resist making things the Absolute Worst Imaginable Confluence of Events for Allan in my fic ideas, but that’s a “problem” for another day.)

What I’ve found is the key for me to get in Allan’s head and see things from his perspective is this: fear is his #1 motivator and it constantly feeds into his #1 priority, which is self-preservation. That goal of personal safety develops and eventually changes over the course of the show, but certainly for the greater part of the first two seasons, that is what primarily drives him. (For what I believe drives him from the end of 2x12 onwards, see here.)

For the most part, I’d say it’s pretty safe to say self-preservation-as-priority-number-one in regards to Allan’s character is generally widely accepted by the fans of the show. But opinions on why and how that came to be might vary more. I don’t know, maybe proposing that fear is the major driving force behind Allan’s decisions and behavior is not very revolutionary, but that is what I’d like to posit and explore in this post.

So, why do I think Allan is constantly consumed by his own personal well being above all else, to the point where its essentially become an automatic filter overlaying the way he interacts with the world? (I’m not intending to dramatically overstate things here, BTW; this is just how deeply ingrained I believe it is.) To me, this indicates at some point early on in his life something or a series of events convinced Allan that the world was an inherently dangerous place and you needed to always be on your guard for the next threat around any corner. This trauma could have taken a variety of forms depending on your headcanon, but IMO it’s clear from Allan’s canonical behavior that it happened. Things that could point to this include, but are not limited to, the sparse background information we do learn about (Tom abandoning him and simultaneously stealing all his belongings, his apparent total lack of vocation despite his father being a blacksmith) as well as how he interacts with his brother (his over-identification with Tom–”I was like him once”–mixed in with the understandable trust issues, Tom’s borderline antisocial behavior in general, and I also wrote here about how their dynamic possibly alludes to a dysfunctional home life). With that as a fundamental part of your worldview, it’s easy to understand why you and your anxiety might have become good friends. He has no base level understanding or measure of being/feeling safe. Or maybe he once did, but there isn’t a way to go back or recapture that.

Another component of Allan’s anxiety I’d like to highlight is his personal locus of control. Locus of control is a psychology term that evaluates ‘the degree to which people believe that they have control over the outcome of events in their lives, as opposed to external forces beyond their control.’ It’s usually described in terms of being internal (belief that one can control one’s own life) or external (belief that life is controlled by outside factors which the person cannot influence, or that chance or fate controls their lives). ‘Individuals with a strong internal locus of control believe events in their life derive primarily from their own actions: for example, when receiving exam results, people with an internal locus of control tend to praise or blame themselves and their abilities. People with a strong external locus of control tend to praise or blame external factors such as the teacher or the exam.’ I definitely believe Allan has an external-based locus of control, and I think we see this in how reactive and defensive he is to his environment and in his tendency to shift the blame or not take personal responsibility for his actions. As opposed to Marian’s and Robin’s “everything is a choice” mantra, Allan often feels he has/had “no choice”, or feels “stuck”. Consequently, this lack of perceived ability to dictate and be accountable for one’s actions can make you feel very powerless. And if you believe the world is a unpredictable, dangerous place and there’s little you can do to affect or change that, you’d likely feel pretty fearful and anxious. Indeed, there has been research that concludes that people with an external locus of control tend to be more stressed and are more prone to clinical depression.

Now, I realize the preceding two paragraphs are either relying heavily on speculation or pretty technical terminology, so I’d like to conclude by referring directly to Allan’s behavior as evidence of his frequent anxiety. It is still in production, but I am working on a comprehensive gifset of every time Allan outwardly demonstrates anxiety. I’ll link it here once it’s finished. (Spoiler warning: it’s going to be a whopper of a gifset.) But until then, I think it’s notable that Allan exhibits a wide range of behaviors that typically denote anxiety. Licking his lips, swallowing/gulping, sweaty palms, fidgeting with something in his hands (could also be a sign of excess energy, but there are three instances of this in the first two episodes of the show alone, and this often seems to happen when it’s implied Allan has excess nervous energy), shifty eyes or a gaze that is unable to meet anyone else’s, hands on head in dismay, etc. It’s subtle because Allan’s doing his best to suppress it–he doesn’t want it to show because that would mean looking vulnerable/weak, which is not safe and a terrifying prospect when you live in a unpredictable, dangerous world–but if you’re looking for it, it’s there.

In summary, on the outside Allan projects a calm, self-assured, doesn’t-take-anything-too-seriously, cheerful, amiable image. And that is a legitimate part of who he is. He’s cultivated that facade for so long that it has taken on a life of its own. However, on the inside, he is ALSO a lot of the time an unsure, self-doubting, self-destructive, fearful, angst-ridden bundle of nerves. So that’s why when I read a story where Allan is ONLY portrayed as the former with none of the latter, it just doesn’t feel like Allan to me. In those cases, it’s as though I’m reading about a vaguely Allan-shaped empty shell. And I get it–it’s hard to always show all those sides of Allan when he’s not one of the main characters or he’s not the primary focus of the fic. Or the author might not be at all inclined to have Allan’s role be more than a surface level portrayal, and that’s okay. Not everything should be about Allan! But I also think there is often room for hints; Allan’s facade does have cracks. All this to say, Allan’s layers and contradictions are an intrinsic part of his character’s essence for me, including his anxieties/insecurities/fears, and his life has largely been built on that apprehensive foundation.

TL;DR Allan’s anxiety not only exists, it dictates much of what he thinks, says, and does, and the poor guy needs a ton of therapy.

sources for the locus of control info:

Rotter, Julian B (1966). “Generalized expectancies for internal versus external control of reinforcement”. Psychological Monographs: General and Applied. 80: 1–28. Carlson, N.R., et al. (2007). Psychology: The Science of Behaviour - 4th Canadian ed.. Toronto, ON: Pearson Education Canada. Benassi, Victor A; Sweeney, Paul D; Dufour, Charles L (1988). “Is there a relation between locus of control orientation and depression?”. Journal of Abnormal Psychology. 97 (3): 357–367.

#ask dreamersscape a question #anonymous #answered ask #allan a dale #robin hood bbc #bbc robin hood #robin hood meta #my stuff #as happy as i am that this is finally finished #i'm also high-key terrified about posting it #this is absolutely how i see allan but i like group consensus so much and it makes me super uncomfortable to stick out like a sore thumb #and i don't want it to sound like my seeing allan as deeply traumatized and #having such a messed up mindset excuses his poor/harmful/dunderheaded decisions #my intention is not to woobify him #(although i must admit i'm not sure if i fully understand the term?)#but i am /deeply/ curious about everyone's thoughts on what i've postulated here #does this all make sense?#because it's so integral to how i view allan...#please come talk to me about allan it's been so looonnnggg #oh also #*dons cap*#this is my amateur psychologist's hat #my mom was a school psychologist though #so i come by my fascination with the subject naturally :)#my gang to me day will never be over in our hearts queue

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erindarroch · 7 years

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Hey! I'm a huge fan! In one chapter of Domestic Bliss, Han and Leia are recalling a mission gone awry where they have to sleep together before they are together. What made Leia let her guard down and allow this to happen? Will you and Justine ever write a story about this event? You also wrote that this wasn't even the first time they'd had to share a bed. How did those arrangements work out? Will you be treating us to stories about the other times this happened early on in their relationship?

Hello, Anon! Thank you for your question, and please accept my apologies for taking so long to answer it. I've been on holiday.

@jhgraham and I hold virtually the same headcanon re: the development of the relationship between Han and Leia in the period between ANH-ESB and we have plenty of rough sketches in our "plot bunnies" box for that period, but we've never actually made a proper story of any of it (yet). I guess we've been too preoccupied with making happy H/L kiss and canoodle (among other things) in the post-RotJ period. ;) But your questions have our minds awhirl once again, as it's a period we're both strongly attracted to (as readers) and we do plan to write our own versions of events...someday.

It's just that...to do it properly means to take it slowly, because that's the way H/L's relationship developed (slowly). However, as writers, we're often too impatient for the payoff to dedicate ourselves to writing that build-up, you know? And we're too lazy! Compared to the cozy/settled post-RotJ period, the UST between ANH and ESB is fairly difficult to master and maintain, imho, and so we tend to depend on others in this little H/L community who are better than we are at writing that delicious stuff. We just gobble it up greedily and beg for more! haha

Having said that, though, we think about it A LOT and I imagine we will someday attempt to write some of these things up ourselves....

As for what made Leia let her guard down and allow Han to cuddle up to her when they were alone on a mission and sharing a sleep sack? Well... we think that sort of thing took a loooong time to develop, too. From their first touch in the trash compactor and that warm embrace after the first DS was destroyed, we extrapolate and imagine that they became increasingly comfortable with physical contact after that. Of course, at first, it was purely out of necessity and/or the result of strong emotion but, over time, mission after mission, year after year, they get closer and closer. They are allies, after all, and they have to trust each other to a certain degree, even at the beginning. Then their friendship becomes increasingly warm and intimate, trust grows, and the attraction just gets stronger.

For example, we have a fairly well developed outline for a story in which they are betrayed by a contact and find themselves cornered in an unfamiliar city. They hole up for a day or two because Leia is injured and needs to rest before she can move without attracting attention. In that short time period, they are forced to share a bed and each takes some comfort in the other's proximity and touch (although it doesn't last). Leia wants Han and she knows he wants her, too, but she won't allow herself to become involved with a man who continually insists that he won't be sticking around for long....because that would be foolish, and Leia Organa is no fool. In the meantime, Han wants Leia and he knows she wants him, too, but he has developed an aversion to close attachments (Chewie being the only exception), and his life and livelihood pretty much depend upon him keeping a low profile and avoiding Imperial entanglements. He certainly doesn't think it's a good idea to become attached to a headstrong revolutionary whose whole raison d'etre is to provoke the Empire and bring it down. So he's conflicted....

But the heart wants what it wants. And so it goes.

We don't think it was anything like "love at first sight" for either Han or Leia, but we do think their attraction was powerful from the start. They are drawn to one another over and over again, but then one or the other of them veers away for the reasons stated above. However, each and every experience they share is a thread in the tether that eventually binds them to each other forever. We imagine that things were beginning to intensify between them just prior to when we see them again in ESB, when they were slowly inching in the direction of becoming sexually involved. By the time we get to ESB, they have history. They have shared all sorts of things that comrades-in-arms share (including occasionally enduring rough sleeping arrangements while on missions). They are friends, but (so our headcanon goes) definitely heading in the direction of becoming "more than friends" by the time they get to Hoth. We don't think they had a sexual relationship before the trip to Bespin, but we think they were getting awfully close to it. Promises were made.... And then Ord Mantell happened. Han changed his mind about staying. Leia got really pissed off about that. And that's how we see them at the beginning of ESB.

If you want to know exactly what our head canon is re: this period, read "Mergers and Acquisitions" and "Between the Lines" by Sue Zahn [ @suezahn ] These are the fics leading up to her trip-to-Bespin story, "Into the Fire". In particular, there is a scene in M&A that takes place on the couch in their hotel suite, which is mmmmm-mmmm-mmm good! Immortalized in a rough sketch by the great Leela Starsky (Kate McCredie), too. That is (according to our shared hc) as close as they ever get to sleeping together before the trip to Bespin.

Thanks for your interest and support, Anon! Sorry for writing you a novel-length reply. I think about these things waaaaay too much.

#hanxleia #han x leia #han/leia #what's the proper tag for these two anyway?#Anonymous

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