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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

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Hello there friend! It is a me once again 😌 Dare I request some fluff?

27. piggy back hugs

MY FRIEND! Of course you can request some fluff since I broke your heart with my last drabble! >:D

BEHOLD, Fane, the chivalrous dragon! >:3

***

The Emerald Graves bore a duality that Solas found was a persistent theme in his life. Blissfully serene, but beautifully chaotic. Laden with sorrow, but thriving with joyous life. Awash with scars of the past, but still with the peace of the present. The lush forests with their tombstone trees, the various creatures that frolicked and loped, the babbling streams with old Elvhen monuments or statues lining their banks, and ruins upon ruins of a home that was taken as readily as it had been given. All of these things held the duality of nature, the light and dark, but there was, perhaps, one thing he found himself only seeing the dark side of an otherwise shimmering gold coin.

And that were roots, gigantic and jutting as surely as the wooden bodies that bore them. The trees within the Graves were large, towering, and their sturdy, ancient roots matched that tenacity, tearing through the verdant ground and bursting upwards as if those who had fallen were rising from their hallowed grounds.

However, it had not been the hand of a fallen Emerald Knight that sought Solas now as he walked beside Fane; his dragon's emerald eyes glistening with quiet gold as they stared forward, occasionally darting towards a rustling bush before a nug would scurry from it, eyeful march resuming its forward steps. It was just the two of them, Fane having ordered a split of their party to cover more ground, mark more landmarks for later observation and consideration, and as per usual, he took his place beside his dragon; always beside, never behind. It was an arrangement they both had declared silently, but knowingly, the bond of centuries answering for them.

Sadly, it was proving to be increasingly difficult to keep that arrangement as they proceeded deeper and deeper into the grove they had stumbled upon, the path narrowing, but only bringing them closer together, not apart, even if the alternative would be easier, but truthfully, Solas had no one to blame but himself for their venue, ancient energy making itself known within his mind and along his skin. It was a beautiful area, however, laden with colorful blooms of Embrium interspersed with Prophet's Laurel and Royal Elfroot. He would have to make note of this particular spot, but once they found the Elvhen artifact, it would be no issue relocating the prosperous path they tread.

Or rather, the treacherous path they tread, the ground rife with thick, winding roots that made it difficult to traverse without stumbling or getting caught up for a moment. Fane was having no trouble, long legs easily stepping over or a heavy boot merely crushing the wooden with a crack before its bearer would continue onward. He, on the other hand, was a little less...assured, occasionally catching the tip of his foot along a loop from where his leg would draw up short.

Solas let out a quiet growl of frustration as he, yet again, felt his foot catch, nearly stumbling and tumbling into the taller man beside him. These roots were truly irksome! He had traipsed into many a forest, many a crumbling ruin laden with obstructions all their own, but these specific obstacles were proving to be cunning and infuriating!

"You said it was around here, right?", Fane's voice sounded in his ears, deep and mildly flat as usual. The shifting of metal and leather telling Solas arms had been crossed. "Usually I can sense them, too, but I don't this time. Huh."

Solas glanced up from where he was glaring at the ground to see one pale, freckled cheek jutting out slightly as his dragon did his normal habit of pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, but unfortunately, he was unable to wax poetic over it as he was trying to traverse the maze of roots they had wandered into. Why were there so many?!

"It is...", Solas began, halting his words as he carefully side stepped and tiptoed over a rather pesky bunch of gnarled wooden arms. He kept his eyes glued to the ground as he continued, "..deeper in. The Veil has various abnormalities in these forests, so perhaps it is affecting your--", he tried to finish, but was cut off as another thick root had one of his feet twisting like it was twisted, looping and aggravatingly elegant. "Fenehdis lasa!" The curse spilling out unbidden as sudden pain had him grimacing and stumbling forward a bit.

Solas nearly tumbled forward due to having to take the majority of his weight off his foot, but, as quick as vipers, Fane's hands shot out to grab a hold of his shoulders, digging into fur and cloth to pull him back from meeting the earth. He winced a bit, pinching pain radiating through his foot and up to his ankle as he leaned towards Fane. Curse it all! How he managed to walk through life at times was a mystery! If this were the Fade he could disperse these blasted roots without growing tired!

"You okay?", Fane asked, voice dropping deeper with worry as his face came into view, eyes sparkling like iridescent runes and pale visage holding a sunlight glow from the sunlight filtering from down from above. Those all encompassing eyes held concern and typical protectiveness, the hands gripping Solas' shoulders tightening a bit.

"I..am fine..", Solas managed to get out, but winced in the next moment when he tried to ease his foot onto the cool ground, sharp, searing pain shooting up through his ankle. "I..merely twisted my ankle a bit." It felt more than a bit, scorching and throbbing, but the last thing he wanted was to induce more worry onto Fane, but with the way emerald eyes seemed to narrow with exasperation told Solas that that was but a dream.

"Describe the pain.", Fane said, practically demanding, inherent growl working its way forward from concern and Solas' attempts to divert.

Solas sighed, turning his head up a bit more to connect their gazes more completely. Emerald and gold flowed and shone as emotions began to run high within his dragon, snowy eyebrow twitching, lips down turned into a displeased scowl. He should know better than to hide from a dragon, but still he tried. Foolish.

"It is...uncomfortable.", Solas finally said, reaching up to give one of Fane's clawing hands a pat and a soothing stroke of a thumb. He smiled a bit, reassuring and calm despite the pain he felt in his foot. "That is all, ma'isenatha. A simple healing spell later on will suffice in soothing it." He hoped that would ease a draconic mind, but with the same emerald and gold sharpened told Solas otherwise, letting out a tiny sigh. And he was the worrywart of the two of them?

"You can't walk.", Fane growled, no question in it, only fact.

"I can walk perf--"

"Try it, then."

Solas gaped a bit, fumbling for another deflection, but came up short as another sharp surge of pain had him hissing, squeezing his eyes shut to the point where he saw static. Okay, so it would appear he would not be chancing strides any time soon. He sighed again as the fiery pain slowly ebbed again, cracking his eyes open to stare up into firm, but deeply worried orbs that reflected the mightiest of jewels. Fane was frowning with concern rather than scowling with irritation, inked vines of Sylaise seeming to wilt along with otherwise youthful muscles. Solas felt himself smile a bit despite not finding pleasure in such a sight. For his dragon to always be so concerned for his welling being, for everyone's well being, was truly touching, even if it was unnecessary at times.

"It would appear you are right in that I cannot walk.", Solas admitted, letting out a tiny chuckle as he shook his head. "But, there is a task yet, and I can endure." The Elvhen artifact was the priority at the moment, and it would be wasteful to them both if they had to abandon the grove now because of his gracelessness.

Fane scoffed, rolling his eyes. "On one foot? Yeah, okay. I'll just let you hop around until you bite it again.", he said with an exasperated growl before continuing, voice softer, but no less annoyed. "Don't be a fool.", he admonished before a large frame gingerly let go of him, but staying close as it descended onto a knee, turning from him. Solas tilted his head, blinking a bit and bracing himself on broad shoulders to keep himself steady.

"Fane? What are you doing?", he asked, brows knitting together in confusion as emerald and gold met him again from over a shoulder. It was unusual to be the 'tall' one in the relationship, Fane about a foot taller than he was.

It was...quite interesting, truth be told, warmth not born of bruised muscle making itself known across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Solas swallowed a bit as a knowing smirk turned up one corner of Fane's mouth, the heat rising, the interest spreading it. Oh, yes. This was...this was very interesting. So interesting, that he almost tuned out his dragon's next words.

"Get on.", Fane commanded flatly, motioning to his back with a jerk of his chin. "You point the way towards the artifact, and I'll take us to it." Snowy hair swayed as he turned his head forward again, but glimmering eyes continued to watch from the side, observing his reaction oh so typically, but not unwelcome.

"You wish to...carry me?", Solas questioned, the heat upon his face rising evermore when his inquiry was met with silence and a tiny smirk upon tender lips. "You..do." His voice eking up slowly, somewhat sheepishly. Again, this was interesting, interesting, interesting. This deciduous forest suddenly felt like a rain forest, hot and sweltering, his collar feeling tighter than usual, the layers upon him feeling like there were far too many, that they were far too heavy.

Fane chuckled, dutifully waiting on bent knee. "This is your chance to ride a dragon, my sky. Best take it.", he joked, smirk growing ever wider.

Solas let out a shaky chuckle of his own, hands upon sturdy shoulders gliding forward to find a niche before he carefully, so as not to aggravate his ankle, as well as the scars he knew laid beneath metal and leather, hopped forward a bit to straddle a wall of a back. He lowered himself gingerly, leaning in to press their bodies together before shifting his arms to wrap around Fane's neck. Hands appeared to pull and grip his thighs gently so that they hugged a toned waist before Solas felt himself rise along with Fane, the endeavor effortless, the motion fluid without a grimace of pain or a grunt of exertion.

In. Ter. Est. Ting.

Solas felt his face go deadpan, mind whirling, thoughts bordering on impure as large hands squeezed flesh and their bodies seemed to meld and mold together perfectly, his arms tightening around Fane's neck to where he was practically hugging the man of his intense, intense, interest. He felt oddly weak all of a sudden, and almost unbearably hot.

"Comfortable?", Fane's voice pierced his scorching thoughts, timbre and baritone making Solas shudder lightly before he sighed, actively burying his face into the black leather of the dragon's jacket. It smelled of the forest, oddly, snow, and familiarly of chamomile. He could die smelling those scents and be happy. Yes, he could.

"You are..", Solas mumbled into Fane's coat, taking a deep breath as he tightened his hug around his neck, but careful to not choke the man. It would not do for them both to be out of commission. "...strong.", he finished, internally berating himself for his lack of eloquence. It would appear his ankle wasn't the only thing beginning to numb with heat.

Fane chuckled deeply. "Like that, do you?", a tease slipping out, its cadence holding a, no doubt, intoxicating smirk, but Solas couldn't will himself to look up, to bask in its snowy disposition for his face was burning, a blush spreading all along the expanse of his face and down to his neck, he knew, but Fane didn't have to.

"I..", Solas paused, shifting a bit as strong hands squeezed at his thighs, movement beginning as Fane effortlessly strode forward, boots crunching through treacherous roots with far more force than was necessary. "..merely believed you enjoyed the benefit." He was fumbling, falling, and frazzled beyond belief, his only stabilizing influence the sturdy shoulder, that was flexing on occasion from gentle shifts and general movement, that his face was now practically burrowed into.

"Mm.", Fane hummed, knowing and pleased. The arms holding Solas' legs jerked a bit, repositioning him deftly without breaking strides. That action nearly had Solas growling before he took in a deep breath, chamomile and nature cooling him a bit, but not by much. He couldn't even feel the heat of his ankle anymore, the inferno now coursing throughout his entire body, his blood.

And that had him acting bold as he shifted his head a bit, peeping out from his hiding spot to immediately see a sidelong glance of glittering emerald and delicate gold watching him, observing him, their depths holding wells upon wells of unbridled emotion. Concern, love, devotion, and most of all, acceptance. Solas smiled a tiny smile, eyes going hooded as Fane's did in turn. How foolish of him to act the damsel when he understood the knight holding him would never look at him adversely for his softer habits. No, if anything, they were both on equal footing; walking beside, never behind.

"But, since you asked..", Solas whispered, leaning up a bit to nuzzle at a pointed ear, smirking a bit as it twitched and hands clawed into his thighs, goosebumps rising even underneath leather to where he let out a quiet, but heated sigh. "..I do like such undiluted power, ma'isenatha. Do you wish to show me more of it?"

The Elvhen artifact was but an afterthought as roots snapped along with a draconic leash and Solas, too, felt his shackles break as surely as waves against a rocky shore, chaotic, but wholly beautiful.

***

Did it get away from me a bit? Is it slightly spicy? Did I twist Solas' flirting dialogue to adhere to him and Fane's dynamic?! *gasp* I DIIIIIID! AHAHAHAH! *coughs harshly* E...Enjoyyyy! <3

#prompts #drabbles #solavellan #oc: fane lavellan #solas #these two can't go two seconds later in their relationship without testing the other's restraint XD #solas has a thing for raw power #he likes the muscles #OHHH YES HE DOES #somft solas :3 #fane being a dragon of few words but KNOWING the effect he has on the sky #HNNNNG #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! <3 #dragon age #my writing

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mach-speed-spin · 3 years

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My thoughts on some of the major changes made in the English dub

This will mainly cover the original series since besides some name changes the mfb and burst dubs have been pretty close to the Japanese version. The original series changed a lot though so here we go

Bit beasts

Original version: Very few can see bit beasts. Mostly it’s just bit beast wielders and a few others who have connections to them

Dub: Everyone can see bit beasts (except for the Saint Shields’ bit beasts who had the power of invisibility)

Opinion: The fact that bit beast users fight non users in tournaments feels kinda unfair. The dub doesn’t fix this completely but it makes it less bad. At least everyone knows they exist and it’s not like non users don’t know what they’re getting into

Ryuunosuke Kinomiya/ Ryu Granger

Original Version: Takao’s granfather is an upbeat but wise man. I don’t know Japanese but his dialogue doesn’t seem to be over the top

Dub: I need a compilation of all his lines. His very first line of dialogue is “Tyson! C’mon little dude, get your head into what you’re doing, capiche? Now get down and boogie.” Don’t believe me? Here is my source

Opinion: Ryuunosuke Kinomiya is likeable but overall not that memorable. Ryu Granger is amazing. Easily one of the best parts of the dub (which makes sense, as his VA was by far the most experienced at the time). Love it. Ryu Granger blasts Ryuunosuke Kinomiya out of the water with his radical swag

Dizzi

Original version: Dizzi doesn’t exist and most of her dialogue is Kyoujyu’s. It’s also more technical

Dub: Dizzi is a bit beast that inhabits a laptop. Her dialogue is mostly witty rather than technical

Opinion: Dizzi’s existence helps elaborate more on the idea that bit beasts inhabit objects that aren’t just beys. Dragoon was in a sword and Draciel was in a necklace, but they were there for around 1 episode after their introduction. Dizzi serves as a constant reminder of something the original version mentiones maybe twice. Her dialogue is a different story. I appreciate some of the quips, but I wish they kept the technical aspect of it (which is one thing mfb and burst did really well). If I had to choose between one or the other, I’d rather keep the technical dialogue over Dizzi

AJ Topper and Brad Best

Original version: Blader DJ serves as the referee and sole commentator

Dub: DJ Jazzman serves as the referee. The commentary is done by AJ Topper and Brad Best in a sport-channel like fashion

Opinion: Beyblade is a sport. AJ and Brad help give it more legitimacy as a sport. Plus their dialogue is amazing (I don’t mind it not being technical since the job of a commentator is different from that of an analyst)

Baihuzu/ White Tigers

Original version: No member of the clan had ever left the village and contact with outsiders was strictly forbidden. Rei basically commited treason

Dub: The White Tigers (the team, not the clan) were pissed at Ray for abandoning them and taking Driger, but he didn’t break any laws (other than unspoken ones)

Opinion: The fact that Baihuzu left the village in search of Rei (thus breaking tradition) showed how important Byakko was to them. The dub made it more personal. Less about Rei vs the clan and more about Ray vs Lee soecifically. I prefer the original version here except for 1 thing: Bruce. The fact that an outsider like Bruce was affiliated to Baihuzu doesn’t make much sense since they still avoided outsiders. The dub doesn’t have this issue. If Bruce was stated to be a member of the clan then the dub would have nothing on the original

All Starz bit beasts

Original version: They are normal bit beasts

Dub: They are artificial bit beasts

Opinion: The All Starz have no real conflict with the BBA in the original version (aside from Max’s mom). They’re dicks and that’s it, but unlike Euro Team, Baihuzu, or Borg, their is no ideological conflict. The dub doesn’t fix this entirely, but it’s less bad. It brings up the idea of humanity vs nature and that humans shouldn’t mess with ancient magic (which would be brought up again in 2002/ V-Force). It does however, create a plot hole in the next season. If the cyber bit beasts are unprecedented as Dr B says, then what happened to the All Starz? This is a plothole that can only be fixed by headcanons (my personal one is the the PPB bit beasts are like drones and aren’t fully sentient like the cyber bit beasts)

Team WHO/ Dark Bladers

Original version: Team WHO were some of the rare no bit beast users who were aware of their existence. Pissed at what they thought as unfair (they were right), they sell their souls and obtain bit beasts. Now they’re on a revenge quest to destroy all bit beasts. After the defeat of the Euro Team at the hands of the BBA, they kinda accept that they’re cursed and forgive the Euro Team

Dub: The Dark Bladers were non bit beast users who lost to the bladers that would later form the Majestics. They are cursed, losing their souls, but gaining bit beasts of their own. The 2 ways to break the curse are to have the Majestics defeated or steal all bit beasts. After the Majestics lose to the Bladebreakers, the curse is lifted, so they regain their souls and get to keep their bit beasts

Opinion: Team WHO’s arc was never resolved properly. This is because it couldn’t. They were right and the only way to resolve their arc was to have them win (or at least have bit beasts stop being used in tournaments). The Dark Bladers fix this by having their arc be about lifting the curse. Team WHO was a massive mistake from the anime staff (they weren’t in the manga) and the Dark Bladers were a stroke of genius from the dub

Music

Original version: The 2000 ost used a lot of brass intruments. Personally my favorite tracks were American Dream and Russia. I sadly couldn’t find the 2002 ost and I’ve only seen a few clips of the Japanese version but the ost seems to have shifted to being more rock based. I can’t describe it perfectly but every track seems to have a “tense” feeling. The G-Revolution ost is more upbeat. I only have a surface level knowledge of music genres but it seems to be mainly speed metal in the earlier tracks and shifting to more orchestral later. The earlier tracks remind me of Ron Wasserman’s work in Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers, with songs like Fight and I WIll Win

Dub: Insert songs that replace much of the battle music. The non battle music is also original, but fairly unremarkable. Tracks 15-25 of this playlist cover the insert songs (note: Hang On is a cover because the original version was never released)

Opinion: 2002 had the weakest ost of all. It’s not that it’s bad, but it’s horribly misused. If you have a battle that’s supposed to be fast paced action, don’t make the music tense. Make it energetic. 2000 has by far the best non battle music, but the battle music isn’t that great. It’s alright, but it’s not nearly as good as G-Revolution, which in turn had great battle music but ok non battle music. The English dub’s insert songs are pretty good but otherwise the ost is lacking. I’d say G-Rev >= 2000 > dub >> 2002

Bonus: Robert’s dub dialogue

“You’re just talking trash” “Alas, I am talking to trash”

Conclusion

The dub wasn’t great overall. The voice acting was bad (that’s what you get for having the VAs be teenagers). However, the dub did fix some major issues with the original version (Team WHO in particular). The dub’s worst changes made thing go from great to ok and the best changes made things go from bad to good. Plus Ryu Granger exists so the dub automatically gets extra points

#beyblade #sub vs dub

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pally1985 · 3 years

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closer look at the relationship between zues and aphrodite and athena. and why its deeper than you think.(part 1)

its going to be a long one so strap in.

why aphrodite?: Aphrodite was the goddess of erotic love and beauty. Today she is one of the best known goddesses and easily one of the most recognisable. Images such as Botticelli’s *The Birth of Venus* and statues like the *Venus de Milo* are some of the many iconic representations of Aphrodite. Her status as a goddess of love is well documented. Homer, Hesiod, and Euripides have all shown her to be a goddess of great beauty (naked or adorned), seduction, persuasion and passion. She is the divine source of *peitho*, "persuasion," *eros*, "sexual desire" and *himeros* "longing" and Eros was her companion. Hesiod links Aphrodite inextricably to sex with his account of her birth; from the sea where Ouranos’ castrated genitals had been discarded. Before researching this I thought Aphrodite’s remit was limited to love and seduction but there are other sides to Aphrodite that I feel have been a little neglected. Homer repeatedly calls her the Dios thugater (daughter of Zeus) which brings into light the relationship between the Homeric and Hesiodic Aphrodite and Zeus. Aphrodite was the goddess of mixis, the “mingling” of bodies in an intimate physical contact, in a martial and sexual sense. She could also be fiercely protective and brave at times, such as when she rescued Paris from the Battle of Troy. I want to discover why she called Aphrodite Pandemos “She who Belongs to all the People”. Was it because she encompassed so many ideas in one deity?. So it is because of these different and lesser known traits of this deity that I have decided to make this post solely focused on her. I want to explore the little known sides of Aphrodite and in doing so learn a more about her, her interactions with other figures from ancient Greek religion.

Zeus and aphrodite (part 1) In this entry I want to start analysing the relationship between Aphrodite and Zeus. Were they, father and daughter, aunt and nephew, oppressor and rebel or tease and pursuer? From Aphrodite’s birth and marriage, to Zeus’ fatherly instincts and attempted rape, I will look at different examples of the interactions looking into a very complicated relationship between two of the most significant Olympians.

The birth of Aphrodite is a contentious issue as Homer and Hesiod disagree; either she was the daughter of Zeus and Dione or she was created out of the sea where the castrated genitals of Ouranos had floated.

Hesiod believed that Aphrodite was Ouranos’ daughter albeit with an unusual birth. If so then it is understandable that Aphrodite would disobey Zeus over incidences such as her marriage to Hephaistos. She was of an older generation, effectively Zeus’ aunt and therefore not strictly under his control. If she was his daughter then her defiance whilst abnormal is a testament to how powerful she was.

The marriage of Aphrodite to Hephaistos, engineered by Zeus is a key example of Zeus’ power over Aphrodite and then her defiance succeeding. Zeus decided to marry Aphrodite to Hephaistos it was to prevent the desire for her causing conflict amongst the gods. As Aphrodite’s father, or at least as king of the god’s her *kurios,* it was his responsibility to marry her off but as the embodiment of sexual desire it was not in Aphrodite’s nature to be bound by marriage, she was not suitable for this institution. Aphrodite caused the conflict Zeus was trying to avoid when she and Ares were caught in bed. Hephaistos trapped them both in a net of bronze filaments and demanded that the gods come and bear witness to his wife’s lust for Ares. He also demanded that Zeus repay the dowry. According to Cyrino this is an example of Aphrodite being clearly under the parental control of Zeus but I disagree. The significance of this incident lies in the fact that Zeus tried to be in command of Aphrodite but ultimately she still overcame his demands and defied him. He attempted to oppress Aphrodite by making her conform to the norms of Olympian society by becoming a wife, the possession of one male but Aphrodite’s flagrant disobedience, bringing of conflict amongst the gods and subsequent apparent failure to remarry shows her continued dominance over Zeus.

There is no account of Aphrodite remarrying, it seems as though she had a substantial relationship with Ares but no actual wedding and judging by the number of children they had it was more than a casual affair. This would make sense, she was not suited to lifelong fidelity but that does not mean that sexual desire is fleeting; her affair with Ares was very in character. She was never suited to what Zeus had planned. Zeus also played the fatherly role when Aphrodite was hurt in the battle of Troy whilst rescuing Aeneas. Aphrodite’s wrist was wounded and she fled to Dione. Zeus “teasingly rebukes” her by calling her his “dear child” and patronizingly tells her to “take care of the pleasures of love and leave the fighting to Ares and Athena”. Despite seeming weak when running to her parents the fact that she even entered the battle shows her strength and bravery. Zeus displays a caring, fatherly side but his teasing highlights the fact that it would be dangerous for Aphrodite to have access to both love and warfare; she was powerful enough as it is. Jackson says that this scene can be interpreted as Zeus trying to keep Aphrodite away influence in love and war. When telling Aphrodite to take care of the pleasures of love Zeus may have been unaware just how powerful Aphrodite was in this respect. There are many examples of Aphrodite and her son Eros causing gods and mortals to fall in love, for example when Phaedra falls in love her stepson. Euripides describes Eros as her winged partner and her agent in her erotic control.Whether Eros and Aphrodite are active participants in the situation or not as personifications of love and sex they were always responsible for the feelings evoked. Cyrino says that it is the sheer force of Aphrodite’s existence that caused individuals to join together in sexual contact. In this respect all of Zeus’ extra-marital sexual encounters were a result of the force of Aphrodite. Zeus often had to prevent Hera from finding out about his affairs; hence taking disguises when meeting his partners. His desire to sleep with other individuals stems from Aphrodite; she was a major thorn in his side. Hera’s scorn and jealousy towards the children of these liaisons, Dionysus and Heracles for example was a result of Aphrodite’s effect. All the liaisons between deities (and mortals) inappropriate or not were due to Aphrodite. Her power was immense.

The sexual force emanating from Aphrodite made Zeus want to be with Thetis but either Themis or Prometheus told Zeus that a son born by Thetis would be more powerful than the father and would become the ruler of heaven. As a result Zeus arranged for Thetis to marry Peleus. Aphrodite made him desire Thetis, a deity that he could not have without risking his reign. An impossible love is a terrible emotion to feel, Aphrodite was unintentionally asserting herself over Zeus. Her power is making him have feelings that could never be acted upon or reciprocated; Thetis was raised by Hera and frowned upon Zeus’ infidelities. When Zeus united Aphrodite with mortal Anchises it was in response to her serial habit of uniting gods with mortals and then “mocking them all”\[ix\] This has been cited as an example of Zeus demonstrating his supremacy over Aphrodite and whilst he succeeded it does not mean that he was always superior to her. This is a rare occasion when Zeus gives Aphrodite a taste of her own medicine, but in mind this is an isolated incident; Aphrodite actively does this to other individuals regularly and inactively to individuals and animals constantly as she represents sexual desire.

Aphrodite also had enough force to make Zeus desire her. Greek poet, Nonnus, tells us in three fragments of his *Dionysiaca* about the time that Zeus tried to rape Aphrodite.

"once when Kypros \[Aphrodite\] fled like the wind from the pursuit of her lascivious father \[Zeus\], that she might not see an unhallowed bedfellow in her own begetter, Zeus the father gave up the chase and left the union unattempted, because unwilling Aphrodite was too fast and he could not catch her: instead of Kypros' bed, he dropt on the ground the love-shower of seed from the generative plow. Gaia (earth) received Kronion’s fruitful dew, and shot up a strange-looking horned generation \[the kentauroi or centaurs of the island of kypros\]."\[x\]

It is another example of her power over him that she could captivate his desires and then evade his attempts. Eventually when Aphrodite did allow an affair with Zeus Aphrodite became pregnant with the child Priapus.\[xi\] Kerenyi talks of Hera’s anger and jealousy due to Aphrodite pregnancy by her husband and she cursed the unborn Priapos to have unnaturally large genital and he was exiled from Olympus.\[xii\] When Priapus was conceived it was at the discretion of Aphrodite, when she deemed it suitable she then allowed them to sleep together. She teased him with no plan to satisfy him until she was prepared to do so. She was in control of the situation, not Zeus. The relationship between Zeus and Aphrodite is complex but there is another dimension. Zeus greatly favored Athena over Aphrodite she was the lynch pin in the maintenance of his tyranny and the attempted of dominance over Aphrodite. That I shall discuss in Part Two. closer look at the relationship between zues and aphrodite and athena. and why its deeper than you think.(part 2)

### Aphrodite and Zeus Part 2: The Athena Effect: In the last post I looked at the relationship between Zeus and Aphrodite from the starting perspective of them being father and daughter. Aphrodite was often disobedient and took pleasure in humiliating Zeus and many other deities and mortals, but she also posed a much greater threat to Zeus. Aphrodite instigated the Battle of Troy[i], she may have been of an older generation than Zeus and she had control of his sexual desires. However Zeus had a weapon against her; he used Athena who represented everything he could want in a male heir to undermine the fundamental tenets of Aphrodite’s existence. There was animosity between Athena and Aphrodite; at Troy they both supported different sides and Athena could be very scathing towards Aphrodite. After Diomedes wounded Aphrodite’s wrist and she ran to Dione, Athena and Hera taunted her for her efforts on the battlefield.

### “But Athene and Hera, as they looked upon her, sought to anger Zeus, son of Cronos, with mocking words. And among them the goddess flashing-eyed Athene was first to speak: “Father Zeus, wilt thou anywise be wroth with me for the word that I shall say? Of a surety now Cypris [Aphrodite] has been urging some one of the women of Achaea to follow after the Trojans, whom now she so wondrously loveth; and while stroking such a one of the fair-robed women of Achaea, she hath scratched upon her golden brooch her delicate hand.”[ii]

### The competition between them stems their similarities and thier differences. Both were famous for their beauty, hence why Paris had to choose between them. They both possessed a gleaming, golden quality to their beings. Homer records them both has having the attribute of glaukopis; darting or gleaming eyes. He also tells us of how Athena was one the few deities whom Aphrodite's powers had no effect on. Both goddesses have key roles with mortals, Aphrodite makes them mate (with gods also). Athena comes across as a sister and friend to mortals and assists them with powerful gifts and wise council.[v] The animosity arises from a difference of purpose; Athena was celebrated for her mind and wisdom, Aphrodite for her beauty and sensuality. It was also due to Zeus’ relationship with both of them that their animosity grew. The Zeus portrayed by Homer is not an omnipotent ruler; he still faced challenges to his office. Whilst Strauss Clay says that despite the occasional disturbance Zeus’ reign can “no longer be shaken”.[vi] Jackson rebuts that the majority of the divine action in the Iliad is made up of such challenges to his authority. After all if Homer had wanted to show Zeus’s authority as unchallenged then why would the Iliad feature so many subversive elements? Jackson argues that due to this instability Zeus needed someone to help instil order; that someone was Athena. His obvious favouritism of Athena was aimed at subduing Aphrodite. This conflict between him and Aphrodite also highlights the greater conflict between the Zeus and the other gods. Hesiod and Homer have different accounts of Aphrodite’s creation and whilst superficially the two Aphrodite’s appear very different they serve the same purpose relating to Zeus. The Aphrodite in Theogany similar to Athena in that they were both born of one male parent. This created a strong tie with each father; Athena with Zeus and Aphrodite with Ouranos. The place which the two deities sprung out of can also be linked to the characteristics surrounding the father’s reign and the daughter’s actions. Zeus gave birth to Athena out of his head, hence Athena was renowned for her wisdom and Zeus’ reign was “one of the mind”. Hesiod also describes Athena as having “courage and sound council equal to her father’s”[vii] Aphrodite was produced out of Ouranos’ genitals in a act of grotesque violence. In this respect Ouranos’ reign is one filled with “gross physicality”[viii] and Aphrodite is linked with sex and fertility. As Aphrodite was born out of the succession struggle between Ouranos and Kronos then she is linked with the succession process and therefore she poses a danger to Zeus’ reign.[ix]

### Aphrodite’s link with sex and therefore childbirth is a regular source of threat to Zeus. In Hesiod’s family trees he describes the women during conception as literally “dominated in love by golden Aphrodite”. She is inextricably linked with the birth of those who would later challenge Zeus for example Typhon who Zeus would have to engage in single combat to display his right to his throne.[x] When Zeus fell in love with Thetis (due to Aphrodite’s power) then she was setting him up to have a child that would bring instability to his reign. Involved in the conception of dangerous offspring Aphrodite often brings menace to Zeus’s rule. However Zeus’ reign was partly secured by Aphrodite; his repeated infidelity and the children it produced earned him the title of “father of gods and men”[xi]. This infidelity created a network of kin bound to Zeus through love and familial ties.[xii] This network that entrenched his reign stemmed from Aphrodite’s powers over promiscuity; Aphrodite helped establish his reign and Zeus feared she could just as easily demolish it.

### It is in relation to this threat that we must look at Athena again. The creation of Athena was Zeus’ master stroke in maintaining his reign. Both Ouranos and Kronos tried to maintain their reigns by imprisoning their children; Ouranos locked his children in Tartarus and Kronos ate his children, obviously both failing. The way Zeus managed to maintain his rule was by placing all the gifts that would so dangerous in a son (courage, wisdom, skilled hands) in a daughter: Athena.[xiii] She is all he could want in a trusted lieutenant but as a woman she could not assume the throne from him. And as a virgin goddess she could not continue the line of succession so she represented the end of the succession cycles. With the birth of Athena out of his head Zeus placeed the significance of thought (Athena) above the groin (Aphrodite). Still Aphrodite, with her children, and her link to the higher echelons of divine power posed a threat. Although it should be remembered that whilst Zeus may have feared her power; as a woman Aphrodite also could not have claimed the Olympian throne; it would have been one of her children. Thus Hesiod created Aphrodite to be the “other” in Zeus’s reign, always lurking and posing a subtle threat.

### The Homeric Aphrodite is just as dangerous and Zeus curbed Aphrodite’s influence by placing Athena at the front of his affections. In the Iliad Athena is obviously Zeus’ favourite; in Books 5 and 8 she wears his armour and in book 5 Ares accuses Zeus of ignoring Athena’s unruly behaviour. It is interesting that Ares would slight his father in this way; was this the action of a god jealous of his father’s attention on Athena or a god defending his lover Aphrodite? But Ares wasn’t the only jealous deity around; Athena prized her place as Zeus’ darling. When she believed Zeus favoured Thetis she claimed that “the day shall come when he shall again call me his flashing-eyed darling”[xiv] Athena’s jealousy would also lead her to become far more active in the story of the Iliad. Up until the beginning of Book 4 Aphrodite was one of the most active participants in the story, she instigated the war, saved Paris and persuaded Helen to reprimand Paris’ cowardice. It only took a slight mention from Zeus of Aphrodite’s achievements and Athena and Hera’s relative laziness to make Athena take over a prime divine role in the fighting; hence why several mortals prayed to her believing she would be the deity most likely to act for them.[xv] Zeus was being defensive; Athena could be as powerful as she liked but she could never usurp Zeus, Aphrodite was much more powerful and therefore needed to be limited. By placing Aphrodite’s power in the hands of Athena and trying to replace Aphrodite’s inappropriate contact with humans with Athena’s more demure approach Zeus belittled Aphrodite’s power. By championing Athena’s powers of thought over Aphrodite’s powers over the groin Zeus is distancing himself from his father and grandfather and stopping the cycles of succession. By defending Aphrodite from Athena’s mocking, and then teasing Aphrodite when she is wounded, Zeus brings her into the family and places her under his control. It is through the relations with Athena, Zeus’ greatest weapon that he manages to keep Aphrodite a subtle threat, but still a threat to be wary of. Aphrodite is predominantly a goddess of love but despite the best efforts of Zeus to keep her away from influencing warfare there are many strong links between the spheres of love and war under Aphrodite. She might not have been as war hungry as Ares but there is evidence to suggest she did not do as Zeus told her and just “take care of the pleasures of love and leave the fighting to Ares and Athena”.Aphrodite is the goddess of mixis. Cyrino defines this as “the blending of bodies in intimate physical contact, both sexual and martial.[ii] Her birth shows the martial future she had”. The remarkable act of violence which created her[iii] embodies the violence and antagonism which the ancient Greek poets linked with the intensity of human sexuality.[iv] It also linked her from the beginning of her existence to violence and power struggles. In the Iliad she was the first point of intimate contact between mortals and gods, when saving Aeneas from the battle. She was also the first god to be wounded by a mortal in battle which led other deities to engage in further god-mortal combat, for example Ares and Diomedes.It must be asked how Aphrodite could be comfortable entering a battle. When rescuing Aeneas and Paris is it her passion as a goddess of love that gives her the strength to enter a battle. There are many literary examples of Aphrodite being a goddess not of war but linked to war. In Book Five of the Iliad she rides Ares’ war chariot back to Olympus, in Book 21 she helps Ares away from the battle when wounded[vi], she was married to Hephaistos; maker of weapons and armour and most importantly she was the instigator of the most famous military battle in Greek mythology.[vii] As a result Aphrodite is also responsible for all the honour that is bestowed upon the gods and heroes who fought.[viii] Regardless of whether Aphrodite was actively part of the fighting or not the emotion she embodied was inspiration enough for many fighters to bear arms.[ix]

### Aphrodite’s golden quality is most often associated with objects of power and prestige for example armour, breast plates and spear rings.[xi] Other divine objects with this quality were Zeus’ scales, Apollo’s aegis and Athena’s armour. Instead of being a quality just of beauty it is also one of power, it is another embodiment of mixis. There were physical monuments erected to the war-like Aphrodite. In the 2nd century AD Pausanius mentions the existence of “armed” (hoplismenē) statues of Aphrodite. She may have acquired a militarised personality in Sparta where there was a temple to Aphrodite Aria. This temple suggests that Aphrodite was worshiped as a warrior herself or as a mixis between her and her lover Ares.[xii] It must also not be forgotten that two of Aphrodite and Ares’ children were his followers representing fear (Phobos) and terror (Deimos) she must have had war-like attributes to produce children like them.

### The Aphrodite Hoplismenē may not have been worshiped by the majority but her embodiment of mixis, her relationship with Ares, her instigation of Troy and her bravery in battle all point to her being a goddess of war but with a twist on it. It is a mark of her power that even though she may not have shouldered a weapon like Artemis or Athena that she still caused and actively participated in the greatest war in Greek mythology. Jackson believes that Hera is using Aphrodite’s seductive power to subdue Zeus in order that the other gods could fight unhindered and give advantage to the Greeks in battle. Hera asks Aphrodite if she can borrow the “ornate sash” which contains Aphrodite’s powers of desire and seduction because she wants to unite the quarrelling Tethys and Okeanos. But Hera had “every intention to deceive”[iii]; she used Aphrodite’s power on Zeus giving Poseidon the chance to assist the Argives in bettering the Trojans. Jackson states that whilst this scene recognises Aphrodite’s “awesome power”[iv] it also removes Aphrodite’s power from her control then turns it against Aphrodite and her beloved Trojans. Jackson’s Aphrodite is naive and is easily depowered by Hera.I however believe that Aphrodite knew exactly what she was doing and allowed Hera to use her power to seduce Zeus so that she could gain the upper hand over both of them. Zeus had forbidden the gods to intervene in the Trojan War and it was a strain for the gods to obey. By helping Hera distract Zeus it left the gods open to completely rebel against his rule.But Aphrodite would have also liked getting one over Hera. Relations between them were often hostile for example Hera (with Athena) mocked Aphrodite’s efforts in battle[vii] After Aphrodite fell pregnant by Zeus Hera cursed the unborn Priapus resulting in him being born with unnaturally large genitals leaving him exiled from Olympus. Whilst Aphrodite favoured the Trojans and would do almost anything for them, her pride was more important. Hera had been antagonistic so Aphrodite would have relished the chance to be superior. Aphrodite was a powerful goddess and would have liked that both she and Hera would have known Hera was subordinate to Aphrodite on this occasion.Cyrino introduces the reader to the idea of Aphrodite embodying the concept of Mixis. She claims that Aphrodite represents the “blending of bodies in intimate physical contact, both sexual and martial”.[i] Mawr states that in Cyrino overuses of the word mixis and “weakens its effective usefulness as an interpretive tool.[ii] But I believe that mixis is the starting point to view Aphrodite as a binary goddess linked to many opposites; sea and sky and love and war are the most obvious.Not only is she a goddess of female sexuality but in uniting male and female individuals she encompasses both their sexual ideals. The individuals that she unites were of course not just mortals, any combination of god, titan, nymph or mortal could be united under Aphrodite’s power, either in sex or combat. She was a wife and an adulteress. She has a dual parenthood, in one account she is the offspring of Ouranos alone[iii] in the other she has two parents, Zeus and Dione.[iv] Aphrodite also represented the struggle between the desires of the mind and the groin in her competition for superiority over Athena and to a large extent Zeus. In this competition she also represents the clash between what was expected of a male and female deity.

I interpret Aphrodite’s capacity to represent so many opposites as one of her greatest strengths. Mawr might disagree with Cyrino and say that Aphrodite was not one of the most widely worshiped deities in Ancient Greece\[v\] but I agree with Cyrino. I believe that in some places she received the epithet P*andēmos* meaning “she who belongs to all the people”\[vi\] because with the multitude of different notions that she embodied or were related to her how could she be anything but belonging to all the people?

#mythology #greek gods #greek mythology #aphrodite #athena #zues #mythical society #Wicca #Hera #culture #Greek culture #Greek goddess #Greek gods #female power

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

Note

Why do you like Lore Olympus? I'm genuinely curious because I've seen a lot of harsh criticisms toward the comic, from its inaccuracies regarding its use of Greek Mythology to the plethora of harmful queer stereotypes. I tried reading it myself but honestly, if you took out all the Greek Mythology references and naming, it just seems like another "far older man courts a barely adult woman" love story with bad queer rep thrown it.

Happy to explain! Let’s tackle what’s perhaps the most complicated aspect first.

As a former Classics major I can tell you that there is no “Greek Mythology.” Meaning, there is no singular Greek Mythology that can be referenced and consulted in any uniform way. Which is a really difficult thing to conceptualize in an age of print publications and careful record keeping. Unsure about whether Harry ever cursed Draco with such-and-such hex? Re-read the Harry Potter books to find out. Want to claim that Sherlock was horrible to Watson and frequently insulted him? We can comb through Doyle’s shorts stories and novels, tally every insult, and find out. These are canons and, as messy as the term “canonical” has become with more adaptations and transmedia storytelling, most characters have a set, fixed existence that we can return to and use as evidence. Not so with Greek Mythology. Born of oral storytelling, there are a hundred different versions of every myth, some changes more stark than others. Some of those versions were written down. Then written down again (differently). Then written down again (differently still). Then we realized they were almost all being written down by men and huh, I wonder if that has any impact on how they framed the story (spoiler: it absolutely does). And all of this doesn’t even take into account the issue of translation. Regardless of what Ovid may have put down on the page, you’re going to get a different experience depending on whether you read Melville or Gregory. There’s a reason why everyone was so excited over Emily Wilson being the first woman to translate The Odyssey into English. Her perspective and her experience as a woman by default changes the way she approaches the text. Even something as simple as a single description can have a HUGE impact depending on how it is translated. Take this excerpt from a NYT article:

“The prefix poly,” Wilson said, laughing, “means ‘many’ or ‘multiple.’ Tropos means ‘turn.’ ‘Many’ or ‘multiple’ could suggest that he [Odysseus] is much turned, as if he is the one who has been put in the situation of having been to Troy, and back, and all around, gods and goddesses and monsters turning him off the straight course that, ideally, he’d like to be on. Or, it could be that he’s this untrustworthy kind of guy who is always going to get out of any situation by turning it to his advantage. It could be that he’s the turner.”

Is Odysseus a poor victim turned around by monsters and fate, or is he a schemer capable of turning it all to his advantage? It all depends on how it’s translated and whoever wants to make a case for Odysseus being a “good” or “bad” guy can point to this translation as evidence… or another. Or another. There are just too many versions for anyone to definitely say what these gods and others are “really” like.

I put so much emphasis on this because the biggest criticism I’ve seen leveled against the comic is the characterization of Apollo. He would never rape Persephone! How dare you twist his character like that! Except Apollo isn’t a character that exists in a fixed canon. He belongs to an overwhelming corpus of complicated, contrary, contrasting myths… and yes, in some of those he raped. Arguably. It, again, comes down to translation and interpretation. Take this excerpt from Nancy Rabinowitz’s paper “Greek Tragedy: A Rape Culture?”

Creusa, raped by Apollo years ago, conceived a child and abandoned him… For the purposes of this paper, I have to address the question of whether Creusa was in fact raped by the god. Hermes mixes the terminology in the prologue; he asserts that the god Apollo “yoked the daughter of Erechtheus in marriage (γάμοις)”, but he also says “by force (βίᾳ)” (10-11). Ion later (1524-25; cf. 341, 325) wonders whether Creusa was really raped, or whether she was just alleging that the god took her by violence to cover up an indiscretion of her own – a similar situation could be imagined in our own day, where false allegations may arise from young girls’ fear of confessing consensual relations to their parents. Lefkowitz argues that women tend to cooperate in their seduction by a god. While it might seem obvious that Ion is simply wrong, there is the further implication that though Apollo raped Creusa, she also desired him” (11-12).

So if we’re looking for evidence that Smythe’s interpretation of Apollo is the “correct” one, it exists… depending on what you read and how you choose to interpret it: whether a mortal woman can ever truly give consent due to the power difference between her and a god, whether it was safe to say no, whether she might have lied to protect herself, whether it was something a part of her desired but perhaps didn’t entirely want, etc. It’s that last bit in particular—those difficult questions—that Smythe explores in her comic. Persephone wants to explore her sexuality. She wants a way out of her virgin obligations. But she’s also pressured into sex by Apollo. He doesn’t stop when she expresses discomfort. She doesn’t feel safe asserting herself and telling him to stop. It’s rape, but it’s a far more complicated situation than the rape scenario of “Evil man forces himself on woman in the back of an alleyway” and Smythe treats the tragedy with nuance and respect, even in a comic filled with so much humor.

The people I see most upset about Lore Olympus are those who talk about the gods and their associated mortals as if they’re characters out of a book. They read one version once—or maybe two—and, as is natural in the 21st century, decided that This Is How The Story Goes. Even though every academic would be losing their mind over such definitive statements as, “Such-and-Such would never do this.” That’s simply not how records this ancient, sporadic, political, and downright messy work. So as someone with some knowledge of how Greek Mythology functions, I’m not at all put off by the comics’ “inaccuracies.” Because they’re simply not inaccuracies, just interpretations. Not liking those interpretations is fine, but that doesn’t mean Smythe was wrong for providing them.

As for the rest, I’ll try to limit myself to bullet points:

The age difference between Persephone and Hades is definitely A Thing and I admittedly didn’t realize that was the case when I started reading. I assumed that Persephone, like most of the cast, was hundreds/thousands of years old and just had a child-like personality. I basically realized around the time Hades did that she’s so young. That being said, the issue of age differences changes for me once you reach such insane ages. That’s why I still ship Ozqrow: Ozpin is hundreds of years older than him but at that point he’s going to be older than everyone. Always. Limiting his ships to only those who are close to Ozpin’s age means you can’t ship him at all (unless you ship him with Salem post-grimm pool and… no). It’s a similar situation with Hades. Yes, there are plenty of gods his age that he could date (and indeed he does) but he is always going to be thousands of years older than Persephone. She can literally never catch up to him, so if someone has an issue with the age gap then they have to accept that it will simply never go away. They can never be a couple in which case yeah, then the comic just isn’t your thing.

Really, I think the bigger issue is not the gap itself but Persephone’s age, period. Again though, I appreciate that Smythe treats the situation with a great deal of respect. This isn’t a story of a much older man hunting a younger woman. It’s the story of a much older god who, like me the reader, assumed he had fallen for a slightly younger goddess… and then freaked out when he found out he was wrong. He’s called out for his ignorance. Others are incredibly protective of Persephone. They both try to stay away from one another and find themselves struggling. Which, to be frank, is an interesting dilemma to me. And it’s one I’m more interested in with gods as characters as opposed to humans. Because it feels less predatory to me. A man going after a much younger woman is threatening in part because we’re mortals who have so much to lose, including our youth. If you enter an abusive relationship that alone is horrible enough, but it also means you’ve lost all those years and all that experience to toxicity. When a god goes after a much younger goddess… they’re kind of static. They have eternity stretching out before them. Persephone potentially “losing” ten years to a relationship with Hades just isn’t the same thing as a mortal losing ten years to a relationship of their own. Gods, though they seem quite human, simply aren’t and thus for me questions of morality and what’s ethical in any given situation changes. We have a cast who, when Eros gets upset and murders a whole bunch of humans, Zeus shrugs and says they’ll just make more. Their concept of right and wrong differs from ours and it invites the reader to apply that to every situation: is it as wrong for an older god to go after a 19yo goddess as it would be for an older man to go after a 19yo woman? Many readers may decide it is—to some extent the text decides it is—but the story still possesses ambiguity and invites the reader to grapple with it. That’s compelling.

Connected to this, I like how much agency Persephone has throughout the series. She’s very much a character who defies expectations, particularly when it comes to her sexuality. Far from being a meek, vulnerable woman who is preyed on by Hades, she is making constant, active decisions about her own romantic and sexual encounters. Even if that decision is just acknowledging how unsure she still is: does she want to remain a virgin? Does she want Apollo? Does she want Hades? Is it okay to make out with Ares? Wear this very short dress? Get drunk? Explore a city? Invite this person over? Have feelings for your boss? Persephone is grappling with a lot of questions that don’t have easy answers and the fact that the story gives her the room to do that grappling is fantastic. I’ve spoken before about my dislike of the Strong Female Character—someone who is not just physically intimidating but who also never, EVER hesitates. She knows precisely what she wants and she’s going to take it! Which is a great portrayal of one kind of woman… but I’m not that kind. I hem and haw and am anxious like Persephone. So for me it’s refreshing to see a story that paints uncertainty as strength. She’s allowed the space to be unsure and confused and is never belittled for that.

Honestly I’m not sure what the issue with the queer rep is? Beyond the fact that Lore Olympus doesn’t seem to have any (unless I’m forgetting some. Very possible). Which, admittedly, is far from great, but if I dismissed every story due solely to a lack of queer characters I would limit a lot of my potential media. So for me, personally, that’s not a deal breaker. Taking a stab in the dark, I’ll make an assumption that people are upset about certain characterizations like Eros? Which, fair. But we also have the flip side that effeminate, flamboyant men do exist. It’s another complicated, touchy subject, but there’s a fine line between enforcing stereotypes and acknowledging that those stereotypes often do arise out of something. Some people hate the media image of the queer kid decked out in rainbows. Other people look at their own wardrobe and backpack and go, “Actually… yeah. That can be accurate.” For me stereotypes are primarily an issue given their prevalence. It’s an issue when that’s the only way queer characters are portrayed, but Lore Olympus doesn’t have that problem because, again, it’s focused on het relationships. Eros might potentially be a (non-confirmed?) queer stereotype… or he’s a battle-hardened warrior who also likes to gush about gossip while baking, the sort of complex gender portrayal that people claim to want. It depend on how you approach it. So no, Lore Olympus isn’t breaking any ground with queer rep but, as said, I do appreciate how it treats sexual assault—among other sensitive, relevant issues. It’s a trade-off. No piece of media is going to be perfect. I could say the same thing about so many great stories. The Mandalorian doesn’t have any queer rep! No, it doesn’t, but it is giving us a fantastic story about a bounty-hunter turned dad that challenges a number of Western gender assumptions so… trade-off.

I likewise enjoy that characters call one another out on shitty, toxic behavior without completely losing who those characters are. (Again, supposedly who they are based on the lecture I gave at the start lol). Meaning, it would be kind of weird if Zeus wasn’t a womanizer. That’s what we expect of him, so changing that would likewise change one of the most fundamental aspects of what makes Zeus-Zeus in the general public’s perception of him. But we still have scenes of Hera and others calling him out on that shit, so it’s a balance between modern sensibilities and character expectations.

The characters overall are just wonderfully complex. Persephone doesn’t seem so at first glance, but that’s partly the point: she’s nothing like what everyone assumes she is and it’s those assumptions that she’s learning to push back against. But overall Smythe has a real knack for emphasizing the human (or god) complexity. We hate Eros for helping Aphrodite punish Persephone. Then we feel bad for him because of his sob story. Then we pull back because he’s called out for being a dick and making himself look like the victim. Then we come to the realization that his side of the story was still accurate in many ways and finally end on… he’s flawed. He’s just a flawed person. He’s not a saint. He’s not the devil. He’s a guy who screwed up one moment and did something good the next. Perhaps it’s just me coming out of the nonsense that was Volume 7 of RWBY, but it’s refreshing to read a story where that complexity is emphasized and (most) flaws are forgiven while still being acknowledged.

Overall I just find it to be a fun, entertaining story! lol. The artwork is beautiful. The humor is great. There’s a nice balance between plot and introspection. There are issues with the series, sure, but none thus far have kept me from enjoying the experience of reading it. I fully support anyone’s right to go, “Nope. Not for me.” For any reason. But I also feel like Lore Olympus is a good example of Tumblr’s recent emphasis on pure media: it must be PERFECT. Otherwise chuck it in the bin. Lore Olympus does a lot of the things that people on this site call for. Respectful depictions of assault. Emphasis on mental health. Storytelling from a woman’s perspective. Numerous types of woman characters. Being careful about who engages with sensitive material and how (each chapter that contains such issues has a trigger warning at the start, impossible to miss). Lore Olympus does a lot right… and some things wrong. Which is what we would expect of any good story. So it feels disingenuous of me—if not outright dangerous—to paint it as worse than I actually think it is. I want media to continue to improve, but I also don’t want to scare off authors from even trying because they were raked across the coals for not creating perfection. Smythe, to my mind, is definitely trying and that should be acknowledged.

#Anonymous #rape tw #lore olympus #greek mythology #mymetas

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min-meowmeow · 4 years

Text

The Fairy Shirt

History Teacher Taehyung x English Teacher Reader

Fluff/Angst if you squint

Word Count: 9,514

Synopsis: Taehyung has been a massive flirt for as long as you've known him, but what happens when he finally drops the facade?

Reader is mad thirsty for Kim Taehyung and will deny it for the rest of their life.

---------------------------------------

"I don't understand," Taehyung muttered through a disgruntled swipe of his hand through the blue cardigan adorning his chest, "how students get glitter on everything!" He switched hands, left taking over for right while right fumbled under the sticky grip of the sparkly decoration. "We haven't even used glitter!"

You scraped the contents of your T.V. dinner —now turned lunch— into your awaiting mouth that then pressed into an unsatisfied frown. "They're fifth graders. Their blood is made of glitter."

"Well can they keep it to themselves." He rubbed exasperatedly against his sweater and yet, somehow, only more glitter stuck. The contained screech was just barely silenced by the grit of his perfectly white teeth.

The only other teacher in the lounge, Mrs. Lee, peered over the district's newly issued community magazine with a sour pout directed at the irritated 5th grade History teacher, but if Taehyung knew, he didn't particularly care. Her eyes followed him until his sullen figure fell into the 80s deco couch positioned just behind the small break room table you had taken residence in when the glorious lunchtime bell had rung not fifteen minutes ago. She only dropped her gaze when he dropped his head along the back of the couch, face disgruntled and glasses askew.

"This is the third sweater this week," he grumbled.

You peered over your shoulder to find the despondent man pathetically pouting with eyes delicately closed against the filtering of the sun through the turn of the century blinds covering the windows. A shimmer fluttered along the blue of his sweater with every breath that passed through his ridiculously sturdy chest while the scent of barely contained crayon wafted from the dredges of his clothing masking his usual scent of pine and coffee. “Did you, by chance, have Katie color anything today with her glitter crayons?”

One sullen eye popped open.

“Goddamnit, Katie,” he cursed.

Mrs. Lee’s head popped up again from her magazine, glare placed just above the rim of her glasses absolutely piercing into Taehyung who continued to ignore her. You, however, did catch her stare and decided to intervene before she tore through his precious blue sweater. Nonchalantly, you rose from your chair and dumped your leftover tray into the nearby trash bin before returning to extend a hand towards Taehyung.

“Come on, I have a lint roller in my room,” you offered in place of an explanation for your outstretched hand.

He eyed it then eyed you suspiciously, but not really. Taehyung had been glued to your side as diligently as unwanted glitter since the day you both started at the elementary school, so you knew any cantankerous reactions from him were simply for show. The gentle way his fingers delicately, almost fragile, wrapped around the expanse of your wrist proved this to be fact. It also accelerated your heart stupidly fast as if you were one of those love-struck kids you often shook your head at when they passed notes between them in class, but that was neither here nor there.

You pulled him to a stand and begrudgingly released your hold from around his skin before Mrs. Lee caught you lingering. Tae said nothing, rather simply proceeded to follow you out of the lounge where Mrs. Lee sighed loudly. Tae’s chuckle quickly drowned her out.

“She hates me,” he grinned beside you.

“She hates anyone who wasn’t alive when the dinosaurs roamed,” you quipped in return.

A loud chortle was this time forced from the confines of Taehyung’s chest that startled you only enough to jump slightly. Thankfully, no one else occupied the hallways that led back to your adjoining classrooms, the fifth grade hall empty save for the two of you and one stray janitor, so you were the only one surprised by his outburst.

You turned to him and caught his own cheerful gaze peering ahead, no sign of the annoyed man you had rescued from being told off by Mrs. Lee.

“Was it that funny?” you questioned.

He chuckled lowly this time, his lips pulled into an amused boxy smile. “Tyrannosaurus Lee.”

Your classroom door swung open easily when your key slid into the ancient lock revealing a mess of literature posters that you thought were hilarious, but your students begged to differ. Taehyung released a whistle of surprise at the bags of paper mache flowers and butterflies lying around your classroom in messy bundles of Spring Festival preparations. You ignored it all, stepping over a large flower stem your students were still in the process of finishing. Taehyung followed you inside but side-stepped over the decorations before stopping at your desk when you reached it with a sigh.

“I never get tired of seeing Shakespeare in MC Hammer pants,” he joked with a point behind you where the bard sat laminated in poster form.

“It’s what he would have wanted.”

A low mumble of affirmation followed Tae as he turned to peer across your vacant yet messy classroom while you began the search for the lint roller in the most logical place: your purse. Pushing aside your make-up bag, your wallet, a year old granola bar, and other miscellaneous snacks, you returned nothing in the way of a bright blue lint roller. Your nose scrunched at the center, mouth pulling in a sour pout.

“Please tell me you didn’t pay for all of this yourself?” Tae’s voice came as a distraction pulling your attention to where he stood next to the largest bag filled with miscellaneous spring bugs. His expression matched your disgruntled one.

You gave a deep sigh with a roll of your eyes. “Yep.”

“Why?”

“There wasn’t room in the budget this year for the Spring Festival, so we had to make due if we wanted to keep it,” you explained, turning to dig through your messy drawers for the sought after lint roller.

He made a weird, confused noise from across the room. “I thought parents were donating?”

“Wasn’t enough for decorations.” You closed one drawer a little harder than you intended before opening another. “We tried asking Principal Do for a little money, but he wouldn't budge. Said it wasn't a priority.”

Taehyung released a bitter laugh, knowing exactly what you meant. Every excuse you had both received from the administration had something to do with the fabled budget. There was never enough money to replace Taehyung's ancient and faulty overhead projector, but Mr. Won down the hall could get a brand new smart board for his Math class that he never uses. You had to carry the burden of your school’s yearly Spring Festival while the boy’s basketball team could have an end of the year party on the school’s dime. You were almost certain “the budget” was code for “go fuck yourself.”

“Ah, here it is!” You called triumphantly with the blue handle tucked securely in between your fingers.

Tae smiled gratefully as you extended it to him, taking it gingerly in his hand. He struggled a little bit in between rolls of the sticky substance along the fabric of his sweater, especially when he had to rip off a new clean sheet to pick up the remaining specks of glitter, but by the time Tae was done, he looked as clean as ever.

A sigh fluttered out from his rosy lips, expression at ease. “What would I do without you?”

“Walk around all day looking like a fairy,” you snorted.

“I’d accept looking like a fairy if I could commit to the aesthetic, but this,” he waved his hands over the cardigan once more, “ this is not suitable.”

“That may not be, but I’ve seen the majority of your wardrobe. You definitely have pieces in there that’ll work.”

He dropped the lint roller back on your desk. “Any suggestions?”

Your gaze held his in contempt with an unamused frown pulling the corners of your lips low. Tae, on the other hand, beamed at you with a trickster’s glint in his brown eyes. “That white button up with the green collar”

“The one with the flowers and butterflies?”

“That’s the one.”

“How is that appropriate for fairies?”

“Throw some glitter on there, you’ll be golden.”

“Nice to know you think about my clothes often.” He tilted his head to one side, brush of bangs sweeping across his tan forehead to deliver the most sultry stare you had ever received from him.

You grabbed the lint roller off your desk, twisting the handle under fidgeting hands. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

Taehyung leaned against your desk, hip pressed to the edge drawing your attention to the sly slant of his grin. His eyes softened around the edges when your gaze held strong with his. “Do you need help with the Spring Festival?”

“It’s almost done.” You shrugged.

“At least let me help set up, then.”

You tapped your foot against the edge of your desk opposite of Taehyung, your mouth twisted to one side in thought. On the one hand, you were touched that he offered to help when he didn’t have to, but on the other, you didn’t want to burden him with a project he didn’t sign up for just because you wanted an extra hand and maybe some eye candy to get through the grueling afternoon set up. Besides, you knew you wouldn’t be the only one ogling the vivacious redhead.

“You’ll just distract the PTA moms.”

The roll of his eyes was almost audible.

“Don’t avoid this by making jokes,” he whined, “That’s my job.”

“It’s fine.” You spun your swivel chair in a circle until it came to a stop facing him.

“If you deny me, I’ll stay anyway and really distract the PTA moms.”

“Why?” It was your turn to whine.

Taehyung gave you a chuckle. “So at least you’ll have someone to walk you to your car at night.”

A heat began to rise on the tips of your ears with the stutter of your heart at his words. Taehyung was an incredible flirt, but sometimes, when he dropped the flirtatious exterior and became genuine— even thoughtful—with you, it was just too much for your poor little heart. You felt that he sometimes acted that way to disarm you, perplex you, because he found it funny to see you stutter at his words or blush furiously at his small touches. At times you wished he would stop, but the majority of the time you wished he would go further than simple touches or the tame offer of walking you to your car.

“Teacher Kim? What’re you doing in here?” Ten year old confusion startled the both of you to turn to the door where you found a student you both dealt with standing just outside the threshold of your classroom. She peered at the two of you, a small crease appearing under her straight bangs that dangled over her suspicious gaze.

“Talking about fairies,” Taehyung winked conspiratorially at you.

The ring of the bell tore your gaze from Taehyung back to the entrance of your classroom. Vivi, to her credit, looked as confused as you suspected anyone would, but she simply shrugged and proceeded to her seat. A chorus of excited voices proceeding down the hall finally forced Tae to give you one last smile before exiting the room with another deliciously delivered “thank you.”

---------

Pastel colored streamers already dangled from constructed booths and systematically placed tables around the fake wood floor that creaked beneath your feet as you entered the school gymnasium with a huge chunk of wood balanced precariously along your toes. A small speaker somewhere among the mess played some generic pop song through the echoing walls, all of the committee members along with volunteers sorting and hanging the decorations that had been made by numerous classrooms and students. Your eyes scanned over the mess, a slippery anxiety slowly crawling it’s way up your esophagus.

You hated being on the Festival committee.

“Why is paper mache so heavy?” Taehyung complained from beside you, the three large bags of the decorations trailed behind him along with the legs of a step stool latched onto his shoulder until he came to a stop at your side, exhausted exhale passing through plump lips.

“I think it’s the glue,” you muttered.

He hummed as his eyes gave a cursory glance around the crowded floor with an indifferent expression. However, you could see that a lot more eyes were on you now that he stood beside you, a lot of thirsty, hungry eyes that were devouring him where he stood. Like with Mrs. Lee, you knew he was ignoring it, but you couldn’t.

“Come on, you’re already distracting them,” you grumbled, leading Taehyung away from the door to a small corner of the gym where no decorations lay.

At your last meeting, you had divided up the gym into game sections where everyone from the committee would set up their game and help run it during the event. You had gotten the bug toss, a run of the mill carnival ball toss game where participants had five chances to stack up as many points as they could by throwing a bug shaped ball into five openings on a board painted to look like a grassy field with a ladybug on the side. Your third period class had happily painted the board instead of learning the thrilling parts of speech, but you got to torture them with it another day anyway, so it didn’t really matter to you.

You propped the board up against the wall in a huff, your arms not long enough to properly carry such a large piece of wood, but you had been damned to let Taehyung do all of the heavy lifting. He had offered, oh how he offered, to carry literally everything from your room and had almost succeeded had it not been for his own hubris and a rather comical arm cramp. That’s when you had won and were allowed to carry at least one thing. You were sure he assumed you’d go for one of the bags, but you decided to challenge him instead. Your arms hated you for it, but your pride gloated.

He dropped the bags next to you then stood back to look over everything now on the floor. It was going to be a long afternoon.

“Where do we start, boss?” he asked, hands already ripping open the bag closest to him with glee.

You opted to open another bag, the one with the giant flowers and fake grass, and shrugged. “We just gotta make it look nice. Coherent.”

“Can do,” he grumbled.

Pulling out the paper grass first, you laid it out on the floor in a heap of pieces before taking a seat facing the wall where you were planning on taping them. The pieces were numbered, something your second period class had decided to do since the color of grass apparently went in a sequence of dark green to slightly lighter green, but you didn’t complain once you started sorting it. You found it odd how meticulous they had been, their pride exuding from their little faces when they approached you with the pile of colored paper. At least they had something to be proud of, you thought, as you began taping section by section along the glossy paint of the gym wall.

You noticed Taehyung take his position on the other side of the board with bug cut outs in hand, but no tape. You hadn’t thought far enough to grab two rolls of the gorilla tape, so you slid your only one over to him until it hit his foot quietly. He looked down, a goofy smile appearing across his face as he went to pick it up.

“We’ll have to go get more eventually,” he remarked as he ripped off pieces of the sticky fastener, alternating between sticking one piece of it on the board by his side then handing another piece for you to use.

You flattened your hand along the newly secured blades. “We’ll deal with that when we run out.”

Taehyung hummed, one vibrantly colored butterfly being pressed into the wall with the help of four pieces of tape. You both worked in quiet unity as you dealt with the lower section while Taehyung went for the higher stuff. You had to admit, it was rather peaceful having Taehyung with you, his presence making you feel less overwhelmed than you would have been had he not insisted on helping you.

As you worked, you continuously stole glances up at him as he moved back and forth between the bag of decorations and the wall. He had changed into sweats and a plain black t-shirt after the last of your wonderful students had left the building, the blue cardigan from earlier discarded into a gym bag he kept in his car for his work out days.

The shirt was loose, but hung over his frame so exquisitely that you could make out the working muscles in his back, the bulge of his biceps when he raised a paper mache lady bug up to the wall, and every once in a while, the dip of his collar bones when he bent down to retrieve more decorations. His sweats, while laced at his hips, showcased the curve of his ass so much better than any of the other pants he owned. You suddenly could really relate with those sexually repressed PTA moms.

“Like the view?” Taehyung asked without turning to you, but his voice was enough to snap you out of your reverie.

You turned back down to your work, hands securing an already secure piece of grass. “I’m just checking to make sure you’re doing it right.”

“Right.” Taehyung nodded, unconvinced. “Or maybe you’re cataloging this outfit since you’ve never seen it before, you know, because you always ignore my invitations to work out with me.”

You pushed yourself to stand once the final piece of grass was on your side of the wall. Next was going past the board and over to Taehyung’s side. “The only exercise I do is chasing my cat when he tries to steal student homework.”

You eyed the area by his legs, understanding that if he continued to work on the same side, you would end up being pressed between him and the wall. You decided to brush him away instead, ensuring that he was a few feet behind you before plopping back down on the floor.

“Your cat eats their homework?”

You pulled a few pieces of grass towards you. “I’ve had to write a few apology notes to parents.”

“That must have gone over well.”

“My cat’s an asshole.”

Taehyung crouched down next to you, the remaining pieces of grass firmly held in his palm along with all of the tape you had saved for the job. You gave him a confused pout that made him laugh, his body so astronomically close you could feel the vibrations from the action. “I can do these. Start putting up decorations on your side of the wall.”

Your pout revealed itself unallowed, but you pushed yourself to stand even if it was just to give yourself some space from the gorgeous man. He immediately took the seat you vacated with a grin and a wink up to you. Chills found their way up your spine as they often did when Tae looked at you like that and you found yourself cowering in awkward attention. “Th...the colors are numbered. Students made sure of it.”

The cocky grin fell to an endeared smile. “I know, fairy.”

If you turned any redder, you were sure you would wind up looking like the streamers adorning the first grade booth in the corner of the gym.

Your mouth set into a thin line that you attempted to turn into a smile, but thankfully Tae only winked and turned down to the task at hand instead of saying anything else. Without his attention, you felt it a little easier to breathe.

Focusing on your own task, you began dragging out the large flowers and bug cut outs left in the plastic bag you had chosen as yours. Your students had the most fun making the flowers, especially when it came to construct the paper mache stem to attach to the large flower heads they made out of many, many pieces of construction paper. More than a few of them had stuck the gooey pieces of newspaper to their friends instead of the flowers, but no injuries were incurred so you didn’t really care that much as long as it got done.

You settled the step stool firmly against the wall with one hand occupied with a bundle of cut out bugs. You then grabbed the tape and climbed up until you stood higher than the edge of the board settled between you and Taehyung. Your gaze fell down to him for half a second and that's when you noticed not so subtly that you stood at the perfect vantage point to gaze down Taehyung’s loose shirt like a pervy gawker at a Hooters. Cheeks sparked in rosy flames just in time for you to turn away before he noticed your reaction to the skin visible past the neckline of his shirt. It was his choice to wear such a loose shirt, you justified, unable to stop your mind from wondering what lay just beneath the dip of his collarbones.

Butterflies soared in your stomach along with shame at the mental image your mind produced for you. Obviously, you thought Taehyung was handsome and, obviously, you had maybe fantasized about him once or twice, but you couldn't understand why you were so thirsty for him now of all days. Maybe the slimy energy from the PTA moms was rubbing off on you.

Shaking your head of the thought, focus and attention turned back to the bug cut outs you were supposed to be taping to the wall. Quietly you cut off three pieces of tape then let the core slide down your arm until it settled against your elbow. Your fingers tentatively stuck two bugs haphazardly along the wall to give the appearance that they were flying with the other remaining cut outs flattened in the press of your thighs.

"Think I could get some more tape?" Taehyung pulled your attention from your work to find him with a hand extended up towards you.

You were dazzled for a minute by the look of his deep, brown eyes gazing up at you expectantly, but you quickly came back to your senses when he began to get up.

“Yeah sorry. Here--”

The heel of your right foot met air on your way off the step-stool finding you toppling backwards unexpectedly. Your heart shot up into your throat as the same step stool screeched against the polished wood and you didn’t even have a chance to try to save yourself by the time you met a softer surface than the floor. One that smelled suspiciously like pine needles and coffee.

Eyes grew wide when you realized who you were pressed against just in time for him to settle you on your own two feet, then turning you to face a very concerned expression on Taehyung's face.

“Are you ok?” he questioned, hands roaming over your arms, waist, and back in search of an injury.

The sensation of his hands on you jarred you enough to brush him off. “I’m fine.”

He ignored your complaints, instead holding your head firmly between his two palms, his bright brown eyes boring holes into your own through the sheen of his round glasses. You were so enthralled with his intense gaze, you didn’t notice his fingers until they flicked you across the forehead. “Watch where you step next time.”

Your response came in a grumbled “ow” that he only caught because he was still ridiculously close to you, but that was fixed when you pushed him away in retaliation, panicked eyes looking for the roll of sticky substance he had wanted only to find it a slight distance away.

“Can you help me get the tape? Please?”

He only shook his head, his hands brushing over your hair one more time before his footsteps squeaked their way along the wood floor to retrieve what you had accidentally dropped. You inhaled as many gulps of air as you could, heart jack hammering away in your frantic chest.

Taehyung returned a moment later, hand offering the roll of treacherous tape. “Here. I---”

“Mr. Kim? What’re you doing here?”

Both you and Taehyung turned to find the expensively beautiful mom of glitter enthusiast Katie Benton standing with hands perched on her hips and a Pan Am smile on her red painted lips.

Taehyung scratched the back of his neck. “Just helping out, Mrs. Benton”

“Oh, wonderful! If you don’t mind, I can’t seem to reach high enough to place this hook. Can you help me?” she asked with a perky grin.

“Sure thing." He nodded then turned to you, the roll of tape being tossed to your unexpected form. “I’ll be right back.”

You began scratching at the loose piece of tape, eyes focused heavily on his too charming smile. “Distraction.”

You watched him walk away with one last wink in your direction before he was engulfed by a throng of overly peppy suburban moms. They crowded around him like bottom feeders to a carcass laughing and placing perfectly manicured hands all over his shoulders and arms. Taehyung, for his part, mostly laughed as she strategically shrugged off one claw for another, but he never told them no. You believed he secretly liked it and no matter how much he denied it, and you were certain you would never believe otherwise.

Turning back to the pile of paper bugs and plants strewn around your feet, you gave a hefty huff of breath through your parted lips suddenly finding the work just a bit overwhelming without Taehyung by your side, but you knew it had to get done. You grumbled once more after Mrs. Benton and her hoard of middle aged Desperate Housewives before tucking in your resolve and getting to work.

--------

You couldn’t say you were particularly proud of the way your booth turned out—paper bugs unevenly placed on the wall, board propped up against two buckets filled with miscellaneous gym supplies, flowers crumpled and one halfway broken from your inability to stop them from falling—but given the lack of help and your overly exhausted body, it would have to make due.

Taehyung never returned to your booth after he got whisked away by Mrs. Benton, the poor man being passed around to many different booths depending on the lie the moms told to get him there. You watched it happen between your own tasks, begrudgingly muttering under your breath how nice it must be to be rich and shameless. However, you hadn't taken a look in quite a while and you weren't entirely sure if Taehyung was even still around. The thought hurt your heart a little bit, mostly because he had offered to walk you to your car at the end of the night, but you figured it was for the best.

After cleaning up your area as best you could, you wiped sweat and residue from the paper mache off on your already dirtied jeans glad that you would now be able to go home. Sweat dribbled it's way from your hairline as you gathered your things and you went to wipe it off when you turned and found Taehyung sauntering over to you. You would be lying if you said your heart didn't skip many beats, but you sure as hell wouldn't admit it, either.

"Finished already?" He asked and you only nodded, tucking the strap of your satchel bag across your chest. He threw a sturdy arm around your shoulders in response. "Let's get out of here, then. I'm tired of being their mule."

You laughed despite yourself, already making your way to the entrance of the gym. "You can be an ass sometimes."

"Are you saying that because I abandoned you?"

"Maybe."

"I'll make it up to you, fairy," he muttered. Unsure if you were supposed to respond, you ignored the statement.

Walking together through the gym and out into the almost empty parking lot was a quiet affair that found neither of you really wanting to break the silence. Tae still had his arm around you, the weight of it more comforting than you would care to admit, and you found yourself wishing it could stay wrapped around you forever.

You could imagine how secure you would feel lying under his arm at night snuggled deep into the blankets with Taehyung slotted behind you. His body perfectly fit against yours like two puzzle pieces meant to lay side by side with the delectable smell of his cologne mixed with the scent that was so undeniably Taehyung enveloping you. You could almost imagine how that warmth could change to a searing heat as he held himself above you, his same arms caging you in between his body and the mattress beneath you.

The thought of being pressed against his naked skin came so quickly that it clashed with the real reality you faced making you want to squirm away from him, unsure why the image of you two together was suddenly rearing its ugly head when you had never let your emotions get the better of you around Taehyung. He wasn’t really doing anything different, either. Maybe you were hormonal.

Your cars came into view at the end of the third row with your smaller silver Kia looking down right pathetic next to Tae’s bulky red camaro. You had joked once that it looked like a husky pitbull revving and rolling down the asphalt every morning at 7:30 AM. He didn’t appreciate it, but you got a good laugh out of it, so you considered the joke a win.

Tae’s arm fell from your shoulder when you stopped next to your car, shimmering flecks of multicolored dots glinting off his clothes and hair from the street lamp high above you. You smiled stupidly to yourself, hand unconsciously brushing away at the annoying craft supply. “You’re full of glitter again”

Tae gave one disgruntled look down, heavy sigh puffing against your face. “Seems Mrs. Benton likes it as much as her daughter.”

You leaned away from him to press your back against your driver’s side door. “She also seems to like you quite a bit, too.”

“Gross.” His nose scrunched in the middle. “She’s married.”

“That’s not stopping her.”

“Well, she can’t have me. I’m not that kind of man.”

“That you’re not,” you grumbled, tense fingers digging into the taut muscles of your shoulder as you gave the stiff joint a roll.

Taehyung’s head tilted, confused crinkle tucking his eyebrows closer together under the fringe of bangs. Soft hands ran up and down the length of your arms, sympathetic gaze and hushed baritone voice calling you to meet his eyes. “You ok?”

“Yeah, just a long day.” Your heart stuttered.

“I’m sorry.” He frowned, only to wipe it off with one of his best cocky grins. “Hopefully I made it a little more tolerable?”

Your eyes rolled halfway to the back of their sockets.

“Yes, Taehyung, your immense help this afternoon was great.”

“I said I’m sorry!” He whined.

“I’m kidding.” You grumbled, dropping your gaze from him to stare at your awkwardly shifting feet beneath you. “It was nice having you there. Being on committees like that freak me out. It was nice not dealing with all of that nonsense by myself.”

Fingers pressed under the dip of your chin forcing your eyes back to his and you noticed that he wore a soft expression again. The change in his temperament nearly gave you whiplash this time around, but his deliciously sweet smile pulled you right into him despite the dizzy feeling overtaking you.

“Well, I’m always of service. You know that. Just ask.”

You fought the blush, but felt it rising onto your cheeks nonetheless. “Thanks, Tae.”

His fingers kept a grip on your chin absolutely refusing to let you look down or away again. Your body jittered under the glow of the parking lot's hazy light with every pass of Taehyung’s brown eyes over your facial features, focus diligent as if he were trying to find a glitch in your code that would make you disappear as soon as he discovered it. Lungs felt tight making it almost difficult to breathe, but you didn’t move. You didn’t even try to look away.

A fond grin spread over the stretch of his lips as his hands moved to encompass your cheeks comfortably between his large palms. Eyes flashed down to your lips quickly startling your lungs to a near halt. He began leaning closer, hope spiraled and warred with dread in your bloodstream.

Then gently, his eyes dusted closed just as the plush of his lips warmed the space on the edge of your lips far enough to be mistaken for a peck on the cheek but close enough to prove that wasn't the case. Your hands balled into fists, unsure if your natural instinct was to push him away or pull him closer. You settled on neither, keeping your hands, instead, close against your sides as your mind reeled.

Shocked wouldn’t even begin to cover what you felt as Taehyung pulled away leaving the sensation of his satin lips pressed into the edge of your lips. Elated, yes; blindsided , most definitely, but above all else, you felt confused. Confused because Tae had never exhibited any form of physical touch before. At least not of the kissing variety. And it made you panic. Your face must have worn your feelings plain as day, because once Taehyung opened his eyes once more, the satiated expression disappeared leaving uncertainty in its wake.

“I---” he began, but you quickly brushed his hands off of you and turned your head to look anywhere that wasn’t at him.

“Don’t worry about it. Those PTA moms must have gotten you really riled up.”

“That’s not---”

“I’m gonna head out, Tae.” You pulled open your car door with more force than you intended, propelling your body into the seat before he could stop you. “See you tomorrow?”

He stood there dumbfounded, andalusite eyes the size of the moon on his masculine face. He stuttered a few times before settling his anxious mouth down into a defeated pout. “Yeah, see you tomorrow. Drive safe.”

You hummed in response and pulled the door away from him effectively locking you inside the safety of your moderately dirty Kia. He waved you off once you pulled away and you sped away from that parking lot as fast as you could, desperate to get home and bury the events of the night deep in your subconscious until you couldn’t reach them.

------------

You usually refrained from drinking a glass of wine on school nights, much less three, but the heat you still felt from your interactions with Taehyung today left you exhausted. Your mind felt numb along the edges while your vision remained only a little fuzzy. The ludicrously narrated nature documentary that played on your TV garnered a half-hearted chuckle from you every time the whiny man complained to his TV producer, but you weren't sure whether you actually found it funny because of the alcohol or just clever. If you suddenly blacked out, you wouldn’t particularly mind.

Tipping the lip of the glass into your mouth, you discovered that no wine remained in the cheap plastic. A frown presented itself on your pouty lips with a grumble following shortly after. You promised yourself only one glass, but you had broken that promise an hour ago. Now, you reached for the bottle nestled beside you on the floor, emptying the contents into the glass until the liquid almost reached the lip once more. It was the bottles turn to be empty, and you giggled as you dropped it on the ground.

The two fast buzzes from your phone dropped your smile from your lopsided lips as your eyes fell upon the glowing screen perched on your coffee table. You almost decided to ignore it, your attention falling back to the swarm of jellyfish on your T.V. screen as the narrator compared them to his vacuous coworkers, but something told you to check and see who it was.

The drunk part of you, mostly, who really wanted it to be Taehyung.

Struggling with the wine glass and your own imbalance, you reached over to the coffee table and snatched up the phone in unsteady fingers. You turned on the screen to find a text message awaiting you once you unlocked it, the name of the sender sending excited jitters down your spine.

Mr. Kim.

It was a picture.

Your eyes scanned over the photo he sent you hungrily taking in every detail you could of the man posed in front of a mirror wearing a velvety navy blue shirt over nice fitting black slacks. His hair appeared slightly tousled and a little wet from what looked to be a shower. You couldn’t help the way your mouth watered, eyes only catching the words below the picture after scanning the whole image twice.

[9:48 PM] Think I should wear this shirt tomorrow?

A crinkle formed on the bridge of your nose at the question.

[9:50 PM] You: Why are you asking me?

[9:51 PM] Mr. Kim: I was gonna wear the fairy shirt, but it’s dirty.

[9:51 PM] Mr. Kim: Help me pick out another one?

[9:53 PM] You: Why?

Suddenly your phone began buzzing in your palm with the same name of the man you did not want to speak to while inebriated flashing green across the glass screen. You hesitated in swiping to answer, but answered the call too quickly before he was sent to voicemail.

“It’s the Spring Festival tomorrow. I gotta look sparkly!” he offered in place of a simple hello, his voice sounding far too awake for someone who had to be back at work in seven hours.

“So Mrs. Benton can find you easier?” you grumbled.

“Jealous?”

“How about the rose pink button up? That’ll look good with gold glitter.”

“Nice change of subject.” You could hear the amusement in his voice being slightly rustled by what sounded like fabric being pulled over the speaker until it quieted and he gave a sigh. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more today. You were right. They’re vultures.”

“You liked it.”

“I would have liked being with you way more.”

“Stop being a flirt.” You dropped your head into your available hand, his words making your drunken cheeks burn hotter than before.

“I’m being honest! I like you so much more than all those PTA moms combined.”

You wanted to ask if that’s why he kissed you, but lost the courage. “That’s just because we’re on the same team.”

“That’s not the only reason.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Mmm, I’ll tell you tomorrow. Get some sleep. It’s gonna be another long day.”

He hung up the call before you could pester him into giving you an actual answer, leaving you sat in silence with only the company of the whiny British man on T.V. to help you make sense of your muddled thoughts.

-----

You hadn’t seen Tae all day. You weren’t avoiding him. Not necessarily. You just happened to be so busy with the Spring Festival preparation that had taken you out of your classroom before first period even began that bumping into Tae was almost impossible. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him. You just hadn’t had the chance. Your freakishly early arrival and blatant ducking every time Tae made an appearance had nothing to do with it, either. At least that’s what you proclaimed to an imaginary judge and jury that sat judgmentally in your brain.

Heading into the afternoon portion of the Spring Festival, you yawned. It wasn’t a pretty yawn, a delicate yawn, something akin to a dainty fawn snuggled warm in a bed of roses. No, your yawn was ghastly, wide, and tumultuous as it fell from behind your pressed palm loud enough to call the attention of your two homeroom helpers, Vivi and Luisa. They giggled when you turned from them with a five minute signal, asking them to man the station while you took a small walk to the snack table by the stage on your right. Your first order of business: nabbing some sort of bread thing.

You weren’t worried about leaving the two girls behind. After all, they were two of your favorite students, hard working and diligent, and they often made it a habit to linger by your room when they had free time. You trusted them without a doubt. And they liked you enough to stick with you for all six hours of the festival without complaint. It was a good little thing you had going.

However, it was because of their favoritism towards you, no doubt, that they picked up on your downcast demeanor that morning when they showed up to help. They asked if you were sick, and you had to contend that, no, you weren’t you were just tired. They then proceeded to tease you, asking if you were tired because you had stayed up all night with Mr. Kim. You let them live with that lie, because even that was better than the truth.

What you didn’t tell them was how viciously hungover you were from that bottle of wine the night before, the stench of the sugary liquor still stuck in your nostrils. All because of their second favorite teacher, Mr. Kim.

Gingerly, you nibbled on a piece of Graham cracker you snuck from the donations box hidden under the snack table, hoping that it would stave off the nausea you so vehemently felt. This is why you didn't drink often, you kept telling yourself, present you chastising past you for putting you in this kind of predicament. And the day before the Spring Festival, come on really? You almost wanted to go back in time and slap the wine bottle out of your past selves hand. This was cruel and unusual punishment. You felt so bad that the very idea of crawling under the snack table to stop the world from spinning seemed like a viable option.

But you didn't. Because you were an adult. And people were watching.

Instead, you cast your eyes outward over the crowd of happy children and mildly annoyed parents taking inventory of those you had met before and those you’ve never seen in your life. You could make out the teachers in the room just by body language alone and the way they all kept to the edges of the commotion with watchful eyes trained on their group of homeroom rugrats. It was then that you spotted a familiar face, the one you weren't intentionally hiding from, strolling your way through the mess of people that were currently crowding up his gym.

You noticed the handsome, young gym teacher before he noticed you, but when he did notice, a bright smile overtook his charming face as he approached you at the table, a hoard of small plastic cups filled with the sugary beverage provided by Mr. Park's homeroom nestled just behind you in your own treasure pile. Just like a magpie.

“Hey Jungkook.” You waved happily at him as he arrived, your own smile mirroring his bright one.

“Hey, Teach. How’re you doing?”

You hummed through a piece of graham cracker. “Hungover, but don’t tell anyone that.”

“Secrets safe with me.” He motioned an x over his heart, ensuring you that he wouldn’t tell anyone. It made you giggle a little bit.

Jungkook was one of your colleagues that you actually, genuinely liked as a person. He was funny in a dorky, charming way that often left you endeared to him after speaking with him for a handful of minutes. He also never took himself too seriously and was not afraid of being the butt of a joke if it meant others around him would be happy. His looks didn’t hurt either because, shit, was the man hot. That was neither here nor there though, as you actually saw him as a close friend, not a potential romantic interest.

However, not everyone crowding in the gym felt the same as you did towards the younger gym teacher. If you thought the PTA moms were being vicious with Taehyung, you had another thing coming when they locked their sights on poor, defenseless Jeon Jungkook.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked whilst you subtly eyed every thirsty mom who threw longing gazes Jungkook’s way.

He awkwardly shrugged. “You know, checking stuff out.”

“Hiding?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

You raised the half eaten Graham cracker to your mouth, nibbling on an edge like a gerbil. “Tae had the same problem last night.”

Hearing this, Jungkook's expression opened like the floods unleashed on an unsuspecting biblical village. His eyes grew wide, mouth hung ajar in bewilderment as he groaned. “Dude, they’re vultures. Like can’t they buy vibrators or something?”

“I’m sure they have plenty."

“Oh, that’s a mental image I did not want."

“You gave it to yourself,” you snickered.

He only winced.

You continued to nibble on your sweet treat as you and Jungkook fell into silence once more. Well, as silent as you could be in a room full of kids and parents all pretending they didn't mind the nauseating Baby Shark playing over the speakers. You almost wanted to ask Jungkook if he could watch your booth for a minute while you suffered in true silence somewhere else, but a figure strolling into the gym made you pause. Body growing tense as eyes cast downward to avoid him seeing you staring at him.

Jungkook, for all the good he was, bent down so his mouth was closer to your ear level. “Looks like I’m not the only one hiding.”

You flashed him a glare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Did something happen with you and Mr. Kim?”

“I’m gonna feed you to the vultures.”

It was his turn to snicker as he caught sight of Mr. Kim looking around the gym, no doubt looking for you. He wasn't sure what the situation was between you two at the moment, but he knew sexual tension when he saw it and fuck was it rolling off the two of you whenever he caught you guys talking.

Jungkook watched Mr. Kim, Taehyung, seemingly attract to you like a moth to a very enticing flame and he wasted no time in b-lining straight for the pair of you when he did catch sight of you gnawing on the graham cracker. You refused to lift your head to watch him make his way over and Jungkook had half a mind to stay quiet just to see how this would play out. For amusements sake, of course.

He found it best to warn you before you punched him for not warning you. “He’s coming over. Give me a signal if you need to be rescued”

You very nearly told him to fuck off. In front of the students.

“Hey! There you are!" Taehyung's voice interrupted your angry thoughts calling your attention to him rather than the annoyingly mischievous gym teacher.

“Hey,” you muttered, enthusiasm lost on the syllable.

Taehyung didn't notice. Instead, he stretched one arm away from his body, the other tucked behind his back, as a shit eating grin plastered itself on his gorgeously tan face. “So what do you think? Fairy enough?”

“Why’s your hand behind your back?”

“Ah. See.” He cleared his throat, then swept his arm out to reveal a pretty red rose, freshly cut. “Some students felt generous enough to give me a rose they won, but with one caveat: I had to give it to you”

You could blame your reddening cheeks on the hangover, but that would be a lie. Blaming the sudden wave of nausea on the hangover would be a lie too. “What? Tae, you don’t have to it’s fi---”

“I really owe them for this, actually. Didn’t have the guts to just outright say it,” he grinned right through your stuttering response.

“Say what?”

Instead of answering, he extended a hand out to you-the hand without the rose-and shifted his grin into a charmingly shy smile you couldn’t exactly resist.

“Come take a break with me. I’m sure Jeon won’t mind watching the booth for a few minutes.”

“I---” you stammered, brain all but pudding in your cranial cavity so much so that you couldn’t even resist. All you could do was look back to a very pleased Jungkook who looked like the cat that caught the canary. “Kookie, do you mind?”

“Remember you’re still at work, please?” he winked.

“That’s not---we won’t---”

“No promises, Jeon.” Taehyung waved him off as he grasped your hand in his.

You swore you heard entertained snickering as you walked away from Jungkook, but it could also have been the beehive swarming in your ears that produced the noise. You weren’t sure. You also weren’t sure how you ended up in front of Taehyung’s classroom given that you didn’t even remember leaving the gym. You were quite surprised you made it out without any big issues, if you were being honest.

Tae unlocked the class then swiftly pulled you inside before locking the door once again, probably so no one would bother you. Your confusion only grew when you came back to yourself fully and realized that you were alone. With Taehyung. In his classroom. And he looked amazing. As always, but still. Nerves began to grow despite you trying to stop them.

“Tae, what’re we doing in here?” you turned to him in bewilderment, but he left no room for a verbal response.

Eyes grew the size of cathedral windows when you felt the soft press of his honey mint lips against your very chapped ones. Your body froze in the moment as you took it all in, the absurdity of the situation unfolding before you.

There you were, dressed in messy jeans and a rumpled t-shirt with a vicious hangover paling out your complexion. Your hair was, no doubt, a horrendous rat’s nest and your breath, no doubt, tasted of expired alcohol and graham crackers. And you were kissing Taehyung. Taehyung, the man who stole your heart slowly without you noticing. Taehyung, the man who you never would have guessed wanted you in the way you wanted him. Taehyung, the man you swore was going to be just your friend for the rest of your life. You were kissing Kim friggen Taehyung. Or rather he was kissing you. Because you couldn’t fucking move an inch with your body set to stone from anxiety alone.

You wanted to fall into a deep hole of self loathing. That is until Tae’s large hand came to press against the back of your head, his tongue giving your bottom lip a bold swipe and you were lost.

To hell with insecurities, the kiss felt damn amazing.

You weren’t bold enough to dig your fingers into the loose shirt adorning his torso, but you did allow yourself the comfort of falling into his body with every inch of your chest pressed tightly against his own. The surroundings faded the longer the kiss went on until you both forgot where you were along with the even more pressing issue of what you two were doing being absurdly inappropriate.

Because it was absurdly inappropriate. If the school principal caught you...

It seemed that thought, covered in images of the school principal firing both of you, added the cold dose of reality for you and you softly pushed Tae away until only your breaths mingled. He chased your lips desperately, yet you kept your steady palm resting along the flat plains of his chest until he was able to look at you with clear eyes.

You didn’t dare verbally ask the question that was raging in your mind, but you were shit at hiding your emotions, so you knew Tae was able to read every last word on your perplexed expression. He sighed after a few heartbeats, eyes falling for a second to the crumpled rose on the floor then rising back up to meet yours.

“I like you. A lot. So much.” He gulped, unsteady lungs pumping unsteady breaths across the expanse of your face. “I’m sorry I’m being so forward about this. I’ve tried...so hard to show you how I feel, but I could never tell if you understood. You always look at me with those damn doe eyes...I didn’t want to take a chance anymore. I like you.”

Utter sincerity dripped from his expression, yet you could do nothing but remain silent. So many emotions warred within you from elated to cautious then circled right around to fear and dread. You didn't know how to interpret all of them at once, so all you did was stare back at him like, well, a deer in the headlights. It made Taehying anxious, tongue running nervously over his bottom lip, hand clenching in a fist where it came to rest on the wall behind your head. “Please say something.”

You gulped. “Tae...we work right next to each other”

“I know.”

“If this doesn’t work out…”

“Trust me, I know.” he sighed, very nearly relieved as he rested his forehead against yours. “But, last night...when I kissed you...I knew I couldn’t get around it anymore. Vivi and Luisa just helped push me along, I guess.”

Hearing the name of your two students made you pause and pull away from him, mind working overtime to figure out when in the hell they had time to do that. “They gave you the rose?”

“Told me to just tell you I loved you already.” His laugh turned into a bewildered expression when he caught the shocked stare you gave him. “Don’t freak out. I’m not saying I do--- but totally not saying I don't ...although that’s the natural progression right? If this works out and we---”

His nervous chattering quieted with the layer of your lips against his, which was exactly what you wanted. You weren't worried of him loving you or not loving you, at least not yet. You just got him. You wanted to explore your relationship first. Just the way you never wanted to stop exploring his delicious mouth. But, when you started grinning at the thoughts of all the things you would get to do with each other, you knew you had to stop and set the record straight.

A cheesy grin spread across your mouth when you noticed how pacified he looked.

You couldn’t help but give him a single peck. “I like you too, dummy.”

He hummed. “You do?”

As an answer, you resumed where you left off absolutely living for the soft slide of your lips that worked in tandem while, unaware, somewhere out on the school grounds were scores of parents, teachers, and your boss who were all none the wiser of what was happening in the fifth grade History teacher’s classroom. It almost made you laugh with nervous excitement were it not for Taehyung's arms slipping around your waist.

He pulled you flush against his body until you could feel every firm, toned muscle under his goddamn self proclaimed fairy shirt. He was radiating a comforting heat you couldn't get enough of. You wanted to run your hands over his warm skin, slip your greedy fingers under the offensive fabric and see how it feels to have Taehyung under your fingertips. How he would squirm under you, but you refrained.

After all, you were still at work.

He pulled away from you first with a look of nervous intent in his eyes you couldn’t quite read. After a confession like the one he just gave you, you weren’t sure why he would be unsure of himself now. Yet, there he was. You softly brushed your thumb over the glistening saliva surrounding his mouth, hoping to give him a little courage.

“Wanna come over to my place tonight?”

This time, you were the one unsure. “Tae--”

“Not for that,” he laughed, then tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, all tenderness in his smile. “I want to make you dinner. Have an actual date with you.”

You wouldn't be able to stop the jack hammering in your chest even if you tried. And you didn't try. Because those words, this feeling, were exactly what you always wanted with Taehyung. You couldn't deny yourself any more.

“I would love to.”

#taehyung scenarios #kim taehyung scenarios #bts scenarios #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fluff #v fluff #bts v fluff #bts v scenarios #v scenarios #bts #kim taehyung #taehyung fic #kim taehyung fic #v fic #bts v fic #fluff #angst if you squint

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years

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Psycho Analysis: Roman Sionis

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Birds of Prey is a fun, silly movie. So you’d expect a fun, silly villain for such a film, right? Well, we sort of get that… but this is an R-rated fun, silly movie, so the villain is going to cuss a lot and peel people’s faces off and be a raging psychopathic manchild. Roman Sionis, everybody!

Good old Roman Sionis, known to comic fans as Black Mask (he isn’t ever called that by anyone except Harley during his introduction, and he doesn’t even wear his mask until the end), is just an absolute raging lunatic. He gets mad at the drop of a hat, is creepily posessive of Dinah Lance, has a very close relationship with his murderous second-in-command Zsasz, and is just generally unpleasant to every single person who crosses his path.

But that’s par for the course for Roman Sionis, who is never really EVER portrayed as a charming, likable guy. The real question here is, is he an entertaining villain? Well he’s played by Ewan McGregor, what do YOU think?

Motivation/Goals: Roman is a relatively simple villain, but I think this works in his favor. You see, a big issue with Harley’s previous outing, Suicide Squad, is that the mission was way too high stakes despite the cast featuring a group of people who didn’t really have any powers beyond “fighting really good.” or “has weapon skills.” You’re telling me you’re gonna put Harley Quinn, Deadshot, and Captain Boomerang up against Enchantress and her army of ancient Aztec super-zombies? WHAT? Here, we have a street-level threat much more suited to Harley’s capabilities: Roman is just a very powerful gangster, and his goal in this movie is the simple “get this diamond that was stolen back to me so I can make fat stacks of cash.” That’s really all their needs to be here, a simple MacGuffin to drive along the plot to its various setpieces.

Performance: I love Ewan McGregor, so, really, he didn’t have to do much with the role of Roman Sionis to make him great. Still, this man went above and beyond despite having comparatively little screentime to Harley. Roman seems incapable of going a single sentence without cursing up a storm and is the epitome of a psychopathic manchild, tormenting people for the slightest of reasons. He forces a woman to strip and dance on one of his tables because she was laughing too loud when he was upset, and decides not to spare a girl’s life because she had a gross snot bubble on her face from sobbing while he had his crony Zsasz peel off her parents’ faces. As funny and hammy as he gets, the dude is a stone-cold ruthless bastard who has no line he won’t cross to get what he wants.

Final Fate: Cass hides a grenade on him and steals the ring, and then Harley kicks him off the pier while he panics. Before he even hits the water, BOOM! Never would I have expected to laugh out loud at the sight of Ewan McGregor being blown into bits, but this movie was just full of surprises.

Best Scene: I think that the honor has to go to his establishing character moment with Zsasz, as they cut off the faces of a family who crossed Roman, and then when Roman decides to spare the daughter, he notices snot on her face, says “Ew” like a petulant child, and has Zsasz cut her face off anyway. It’s a great way to establish that Roman is an awful human being no matter how you slice it, and firmly establishes that while, yes, he is a misogynist villain in a female-led blockbuster, his misogyny is just a tiny facet of how unabashedly terrible Roman is.

Final Thoughts & Score: So, this is gonna sound weird, but… Roman kinda reminded me of Justin Hammer. Hammer is a villain who I have greatly warmed to over time (mostly thanks to Nando V Movies on YouTube), to the point where I think he’s actually pretty funny but is held back from true greatness by the sloppy nature of Iron Man 2. The film was big, bloated, and didn’t know what to do with itself. And this film is KIND OF like that… but it knows what to do with Roman.

The movie has an undercurrent of female empowerment, so why not make the villain emblematic of things women have to overcome? Roman is creepy, misogynistic, and even a bit racist especially with his condescending actions towards Dinah. And he even throws a fit when she “betrays” him and decides to murder her. But the movie is smart so as to not make this hamfisted; the movie makes it entirely clear that even if you take away his misogynistic elements, Roman Sionis is just an utterly disgusting human being. Everything about him is just so hilariously vulgar and repulsive, but the way he’s performed helps lighten it and help keep him within the tone of the movie. He’s just dark enough and just hammy enough to work.

My big issues with Roman are mostly due to his utilization and the wasted potential, which is a problem that really hits a lot of stuff in Birds of Prey. He is great every time he’s onscreen, but his screentime is fairly limited, and then he dies at the end which robs him of any chance of coming back in the future as an antagonist. He actually functions great as a more grounded threat rather than some larger-than-life end of the world threat, but the fact he dies horribly – before even having his mask burned onto his face, even! - just kind of feels like a waste of a character. To be fair, Black Mask is not the best or most interesting Batman villain crime lord; we have the Penguin for that. But when you cast someone like Ewan McGregor and he’s clearly having a blast, it’s hard not to feel at least slightly bitter when he gets hilariously gibbed at the end.

Still, I can’t let Justin Hammer’s sacrifice go in vain; he walked so Roman could run, and Roman ran so that perhaps someday Hammer could sprint. Roman gets a nice, fat 8/10, which he definitely earns with the heaping helpings of ham he brings to the table, though he is held back at least a little by the wasted potential of his character.

But hey, if you want to talk about wasted potential…

Psycho Analysis: Victor Zsasz

I really like Victor Zsasz in this film. I really do. The angle they went with, the implied homosexuality, the actor… it’s all good stuff that helps make a disturbing character like Zsasz easier to swallow. But he gets hit with wasted potential harder than even Roman does.

Motivation/Goals: He’s Roman’s right-hand man, so basically his motivation is to do whatever Roman wants him to do. However, there is a bit of an implied thing between his boss and him; Zsasz seems undeniably irritated with the attention he lavishes on Dinah, and is very hands-on and affectionate with his boss. A lot of his later actions in the film and his cruelty towards Dinah does seem to stem from some place of anger towards her for taking Roman’s attention away from him.

Performance: I have to say, Chris Messina does a stellar job at portraying Zsasz as creepy and obsessive, and certainly showcases the fanatical loyalty he has towards Roman, making him something of a dark mirror to Harley’s former relationship with the Joker. I also appreciate that, despite not going with Zsasz’s original psychotic serial killer angle, they still made him a bloodthirsty psycho with a sort of nihilistic edge to him. Frankly, this might be the best possible take on a live-action Zsasz without things getting intensely uncomfortable.

Final Fate: This is probably the worst element of Zsasz: his death. Right before the climax he gets shot out of the blue by Huntress and then Harley just repeatedly stabs him with the arrow. And I have to make it clear here – Zsasz barely got to do anything. He never really poses any sort of physical threats to the heroines, never gets into a fight, and is never mentioned again after his death despite being very close to Roman (to the point where the two may have been lovers).

Final Thoughts & Score: As far as henchmen go, Zsasz is pretty solid conceptually. He’s established early on as a psychopathic enforcer of Roman’s gang, he has an eerie air to him, and he has a lot of elements from the comics you rarely see on Zsasz in other media, such as being blonde. Messina does a fantastic job at making the character seem like a competent killer in the employ of Roman.

But the key word is “seem,” because Zsasz frankly never lives up to his hype. Despite being introduced peeling the faces off of a family, he is just never utilized to his fullest extent. He’s kind of just there in a lot of scenes, and while he isn’t unmemorable or anything he never really does anything that makes him into a worthwhile addition to the franchise. He’s honestly just a glorified mook with a few interesting gimmicks to help set him apart.

I’ve gotta give him a 6/10. While he’s definitely a step above average, he’s really not anything amazing, mostly because the movie refuses to allow him to reach his full potential. He doesn’t have any great quotes, his most memorable scene really serves more to establish Roman than anything, and he is dumped and quickly forgotten right before the climax. He would easily be a 7 or 8 if the story treated him with a little more weight or respect, but he just ends up underwhelming despite having so much going for him, and it’s frankly a bit depressing. It’s just a very sad state of affairs for the character, especially when he managed to be more intimidating in the Arkham games despite the fact that he posed even less of a physical threat than he does here.

Well, while we’re here, let’s go over THAT Zsasz briefly.

Portrayed in the games by Danny Jacobs (who you may know as Sacha Baron Cohen's stand in on The Penguins of Madagascar. Yes, Zsasz and King Julien had the same voice actor.), Zsasz is never really a major antagonist and is, in all honesty, a pretty weak fighter; you can always take him down in one punch. The thing with Zsasz in the games, though, is that it’s always tricky to get to him, because he usually has hostages of some kind. In Arkham Asylum, he appears twice, and you need to use stealth to take him out before he kills his hostages. In City, he gets a much longer sidequest where he requires you to pick up ringing telephones and then glide to another one across the city within a time limit. Once you’ve listened to all of his messages, Batman finds out where his lair is, sneaks through it, and whoops his ass.

I certainly can’t say he’s the best villain in either game he appears in, but he’s definitely scary. His messages and game over screens are really freaky and unnerving, and the Riddler even requires you to find some of Zsasz’s work as parts of riddles… and by “work” I am of course referring to corpses posed in life-like positions. There’s also the horrifying little tidbit that in City, Zsasz actually does kill one of his hostages and there’s nothing that can be done about it; if you switch to detective mode in his lair, you can see a corpse at the bottom of the water in the room.

I think how creepy and intense he is really helps make him stand out among the more colorful characters in those games like Joker, Clayface, and Riddler, so I think giving him a nice 8/10 for his appearances is well-earned. I feel like Birds of Prey could have learned a few lessons from this portrayal; if they wanted to make him more creepy than physically intimidating, that could have worked well and it would have made his anti-climactic defeat a bit more plausible. Instead, they kind of tried this middle ground where he’s creepy enough and intimidating enough physically that it just feels like a letdown when he’s offed.

Oh yeah, did you know he appeared in Batman Begins? He had a brief cameo and didn’t do anything significant and looked like this:

Pretty sure he’d get a low score if he wasn’t just a quick little reference.

#Psycho Analysis #Roman Sionis #Birds of Prey #birds of prey (and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn)#Ewan McGregor #victor zsasz #Chris Messina #Danny Jacobs #Arkham series #Batman

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all-hail-the-witcher · 4 years

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out of time

so this is an original work. and yes, i did tag list it because i want to know if people like it/find it interesting. ive been slowly building this universe for the last like 6 years and i legitimately want to write a novel in this universe and this might be the beginnings of the first chapter. you dont have to read it if you dont want to though.

_____

genre: angst i guess

warnings: implied death/violence, visions that could be interpreted as hallucinations, implied anxiety, distress

words: 2791

editing: yes

*note: the bold and italics together represent talking telepathically (sorry if its confusing)

_____

Lynnie where are you?

Trace counted slowly to five as he waited to hear his sister’s response echo in his head.

Dance floor, came his sister’s gentle voice. Your 1 o’clock.

Trace’s eyes scanned the dance floor below him before finally landing on his little sister. The ancient castle that the Friday night dances were held in was definitely not Trace’s favorite place, but tonight he was willing to put aside his hatred for the drafty candlelit rooms and appreciate the long walkway at the top of the grand staircase for giving him a full view of the room below. His shoulders relaxed as he saw Lynnie on the arm of some boy with too much gel in his hair. Her massive poof of an evening gown glistened like freshly fallen snow in the candlelight as she twirled.

Don’t knock over the punch bowl again, he warned, savoring the uncharacteristic misstep he saw her take.

Oh shut up. He could practically hear her eye roll. What’s up though? Do you see someone?

Trace was certain that nothing was amiss and normally he trusted his instincts, but tonight he took his time scanning the area again, even squinting at the frosted glass windows for good measure, just to be sure he hadn’t missed anything. No, he thought, shifting his weight back and forth subtly so he could feel the small vial tap against his chest. I just have a feeling.

He watched as Lynnie curtseyed, bidding farewell to the boy she was dancing with before navigating her way through the crowd and towards the staircase.

Hold tight, I’m coming.

Trace nodded, unable to formulate a response. His hands were suddenly itching to grasp the vial.

Trace’s Gift was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it helped many people and saved countless lives. But on the other hand, it meant that he had to take a horrifying look into the future, which was often not the happiest place. It wasn’t as if he could prepare for it either, he never knew when his Gift would demand to be felt.

The urge to grab the vial jerked through his body again, jolting him forward into the railing. The room began to blur in front of him and he squeezed the ornately carved wood with such force that he was sure it would break. Lynnie please, I need you, Lynnie please, please, Lynnie-

A hand gripped his shoulder and he jumped, reaching blindly into the inside of his navy blue suit jacket for his father’s knife, cursing himself for letting his guard down.

“Hey! It’s just me! I’m here.”

“Lynnie.” The immediate safety his sister emanated overwhelmed him and he slumped forwards into her unexpecting arms, the knife clattering to the ground, forgotten. Lynnie tensed as she attempted to keep him from drowning in her dress and he distantly wondered if she was worried. Surely she should know that this was just another vision, right? There was no real need for her to worry, the visions themselves weren’t the dangerous part. It was what happened after that she should be worried about.

But then again he had just collapsed on her, and dropped his knife accidentally for the first time since he’d been seven and gotten scared by a mouse that had snuck into the training room. That mouse had been scary, scary scary mouse. But he had just wanted to touch it, touch it, just touch it-

Lynnie’s muttered uncharacteristic string of curse words interrupted his thoughts. “Just hang on a minute Trace.”

Had he said that out loud? Oh no. Even at their worst, Trace had always had control over his visions. He firmly clamped his mouth shut, choosing instead to focus on the pressure of Lynnie’s arm around his shoulder as she guided him into one of the private rooms, away from the people that were undoubtedly staring at the scene he was making them. Hopefully no one would tell his mother about this embarrassment.

Before they could duck into the safety of the room, Trace’s hand unpinned itself from his side and thrust itself at the vial. He struggled against the unseen force drawing his hand towards his neck. “Stop...it,” he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut forcefully. Lynnie froze next to him, no doubt staring at the spectacle in front of her. Lynnie. He couldn’t let her see him like this, succumbing to an invisible force. With renewed determination he clenched his fist tightly and finally managed to fling his arm back in the opposite direction.

He opened his eyes, unable to hide his relief as he felt the tension momentarily drain from his body. He could control this. All he had to do was get into the room.

He reached out to grab the doorway, ready to pull himself inside and get the vision over with already when the air became still. Too still. He squinted suspiciously, straining his ears for even a snippet of the previously overwhelming noise from the dance below. Trace slowly turned his head down towards his chest, dread overcoming him once again. Screams bounced around his head, imploring him to just touch the vial already! His hands were stuck, floating in the air, unsure whether to listen to his mind or his heart. One commanding voice rose above the rest, drowning them out.

Look at your sister. What do you see?

Trace’s gaze hardened as he forced himself to focus. Lynnie emerged from the fuzziness, holding up the majority of his weight despite the fact that she was wearing a huge blue sequined ball gown and heels. In that ball gown he knew there were exactly five hidden knives in addition to her white pouch of fairy dust. She was wearing their grandma’s diamond necklace and chandelier earrings, her long blonde hair arranged in an elaborate updo. One of her earrings had scratched the side of her neck and he found himself wanting to reach into his own fairy dust bag and smear some over the minnescule mark. The delicate silvery swirls of her dust marks graced her shoulders and bare arms, their familiar patterns grounding him. Tiny lines puckered up between her eyebrows and around her mouth, the only evidence suggesting she was worried. Her eyes, the same steely blue-green as his, remained unreadable.

No. Look deeper. What do you see?

Trace squinted. There was the tiny scar above her left eyebrow that she had gotten when she was six and trying to shoot her bow for the first time. The arrow had rebounded backwards and smashed into her forehead. He had never told anyone, but looking at his sister’s face frozen in shock with blood gushing out of her forehead had been the first time he had been really, truly worried. The spray of freckles across her nose looked exactly like the ones that littered his mother’s face. She was the only one of all his siblings that shared their mother’s freckles. Her silver hoop earring glinted in the candlelight from its position at the top of her ear. He had given her that piercing at two am in their kitchen when she had been thirteen and their father had said she couldn’t get one. She referred to it as the “first of many acts as a rebellious teen” and so far she hadn’t disappointed. There was the birthmark on her right wrist that looked like an x. She often joked that she had probably been stabbed there in a past life because “x marks the spot.” Everytime she mentioned it he couldn't help but shudder - he did not like the thought of his sister ever being stabbed, no matter what life it had been. She was too important for him to ever fathom losing. Her eyes were set, the determined glint in them reminding him of the way she looked when he proposed a crazy idea to her, except there was something else there as well. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on…

“Trace?”

He snapped back into the present, immediately resuming fighting his body as his eyes clouded over again. “Hm?”

“Are you ready to go inside?”

Strangely enough, he smiled despite the circumstances, finding himself grateful for his sister’s perpetual calm and collected state. She was always so dependable, there without question any time he needed her. He could only hope that she thought the same of him.

He nodded, letting himself be led through the doorway before slumping to the floor, not trusting the bed in the slightest. Who knew what kinds of unspeakable things had happened there.

“I need- it's- the vial, the one around my neck,” he said, quieting the screaming voices clouding his consciousness. “It’s time.”

She nodded in understanding. “What do you want me to do?”

“Pull me out.”

Unable to wait for a response, Trace’s hand snapped up from his side again, this time successfully clutching the vial, issuing a guttural scream as images flashed faster than lightning before his eyes. With every anxious breath the images cycled faster and faster, until he couldn’t see anything but color after color after color until they morphed together to form a murky image.

It was dark. That was all he was able to register, darkness. And water. Somewhere water was dripping, pinging against what must have been a stone floor. A door banged open and a bright white shaft of light splayed in, illuminating the bars of the jail cell in front of him. He shielded his eyes, blinking as he scanned the area. To his horror, when he looked into the cell across from him he was met with a gaunt skeleton person staring blankly back at him, their blue-green eyes empty. But he wasn’t the only one. There was another in the cell next to that, and next to that, and as far as Trace could see in the eerie lighting. He looked back to the person in the cell across from him, inhaling sharply when he noticed red marks glinting on their arms, like dust marks that had been ripped off.

Heavy footsteps echoed off the cells and he craned his neck. Coming towards him was a tall man with clean cut hair. He walked slowly, peering into each cell as he went, but said nothing to its inhabitants. Behind him was a girl with a roughly cut black bob, her silhouette flicking on the wall as if she wasn’t really there. The only thing he could see was her eyes, bright purple against the blackness. She was gone as soon as she had come and it was just the man again. The man was close to his cell now. There was a muffled curse from the cell across from him and something glinted against the man’s all black ensemble, something long and pointy and sharp and-

The dim cell block swirled and changed. This time there was a girl with short hair and blunt bangs dressed in green and brown traipsing through the woods. Peeking out from under her shirt were silver dust tattoos, swirling down her shoulders and arms in a familiar pattern, catching the light in the exposed places. Her brown eyes were heavy as she trekked through an overgrown pathway with shaky steps, a sword sheathed on her back. No, not just any sword. His sword. The family one that had been passed down through so many generations that they had lost track. What was she doing with his sword?

As she came closer he could see a boy trailing behind her, his mouth moving with words Trace couldn't hear. But while the girl’s clothes blended into her surroundings, the boy was wearing a tattered pink shirt that made him stick out against the trees. It was clear that he was bothering the girl, and Trace wondered why she didn’t just ditch him. Tactically, he didn’t seem any more useful than a pile of leaves.

The girl, still ignoring the boy’s rambling, tensed slightly and slowed her pace. Up ahead, two figures had appeared on the path in the traditional green fight clothes, weapons drawn. The girl unsheathed the sword and he saw her flinch as her eyes hardened, the briefest flash of blue in a sea of brown. He opened his mouth to call out but words escaped him as the colors flashed again.

This time when the haze cleared he was outside the castle. People dressed in formalwear were running around him, clinking their various blades against an army of black-clad soldiers on a moon-lit battlefield. Screams and cries echoed against the blooming red sky. Distantly, the raid siren was blaring. Instincts kicking in, Trace felt himself taking a low stance and reaching into his jacket for a blade.

One black-clad figure flew past him, sword drawn, target locked. Trace followed the figure's path as he ran several more steps before smacking his blade against one of a blonde boy wearing a navy blue suit that had obviously seen better days. The blonde boy moved in a familiar manner as he jumped, dodged and stabbed at the blade of his attacker. His skill was apparent, but there was doubt clouding his features. Despite the enemy in front of him, the blonde boy’s sword began to hesitate, deflecting the blows only at the last minute until the opposing blade ripped open his dress shirt, gushing blood onto the cobblestones. The dark figure jumped over the body and onto his next victim, but Trace found himself staring at the fallen boy, his stomach sinking with every breath.

He looked up, scanning the crowd of tattered fighters, half hoping that he wouldn’t see her, that this wasn’t possible. There were too many people, she would never find them. But a path appeared in the chaos there she was, blonde hair coming undone as she ran, shreds of blue ball gown cascading around her as she dodged attacker after attacker, heading straight towards the fallen boy at Trace’s feet.

She sank down beside him, tears already staining her cheeks as she swiftly grabbed his sword and scabbard. She placed a gentle hand on the ripped shoulder of his suit, pieces of her hair falling in front of her face like a curtain, giving her a much needed sense of privacy. But Trace could still see her shaking hands reach down and unclip something from around the boy's neck, fastening it instead to her own. She leaned her face down, lips moving in some inaudible phrase before she kissed the boy's forehead. She stood slowly, keeping her eyes trained on the boy for as long as possible before a shout from somewhere further down startled her and she tore past Trace, away from the battle, down the street and-

Come back to me Trace.

Trace gasped, the bloody cobblestone street and clashing blades slipping away as he was drawn back by Lynnie’s voice. He left his eyes closed, focusing on his sweat dripping off his nose and onto his hands, which were tightly clasped in his sister’s. He didn’t move as he attempted to process the fragmented scenes that he had just witnessed. His eyes grew heavy as he found himself arriving at the same conclusion each time. The Gift never lied, he had learned that the hard way. This time though he couldn’t help but hope that it was wrong. It had to be wrong. There was no way that-

Trace. Breathe, Lynnie’s voice spoke in his head. Thankfully she had the sense not to speak out loud. But then, she always seemed to know exactly what he needed. He should have told her that more often.

Almost involuntarily, he felt his lungs fill with much needed air again and again, pushing his tears pushed further and further down with every breath.

What did you see?

I, uh, Trace paused, not knowing how to articulate what he had seen. Normally he always shared his visions with Lynnie, but this time he didn’t think he could. Well, not entirely. There were still things she needed to know. The time had come and he had to pass the job onto her now. What he needed to say had to be said out loud.

“I know what the vial around my neck is,” he whispered, voice rough with emotion.

Lynnie waited several long moments to respond. “What is it?”

“It’s hope,” he looked up at her for the first time and took a deep breath, holding onto as much of the calm moment as he could. He knew it wasn’t going to last. “Protect it at all costs.”

In the distance, the raid sirens began to blare.

_____

for a culmination of 6 years of work its not the best. but i like the au i created and i would be open to writing fics in that au to develop it more if people want. or i also have like, 2 other characters developed in this universe and if people want i could write about them

anyway thanks for reading, comments are always appreciated, hmu to be on the tag list

tag list

@fairly-awkward-trashcan

@sun-kissed-star

@racetrackcook

@ughwaitwhat

@aw-jus-let-em-try

@voice-foundshoe-lost

@stopthe-presses

@pinecovewoods

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing

@getchapapes

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen

@stellar-alpaca

@saxoph-ella

@smolcanadiankid

@disney-princess-sized

@the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog

@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn

@have-we-got-news-for-you

@thatfancyclam

@legoflambwrites

@albertdasillvaprotectionsquad

@entschuldigung-bitches

@thebroadwayaesthetic

@tea-and-theater

@seasickdolphin

@auspicioustarantula

@newsies-of-ny

@papesdontsellthemselves

@deathcast-s

@the-poodles-of-pulitzer

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

@humanracoon

@irondad-spiderson-duo

@albert-eats-cookie-cake

@nico-nat

@localfakeitalian

@carryyourownbanner

@writing-makes-me-antsy

@racetrackyeetgins

@panpervinca

#saphie scribbles #my original work #please let me know what you think honestly cause id really like to build this up more #and thanks if you read it #i know its not fic

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dafukdidiwatch · 4 years

Text

As Above So Below

This somehow both scared and bored me at the same time

Overview

: After years of searching, Treasure Hunter Scarlet finds a clue that would lead her to the fabled Philosopher's Stone somewhere in Paris. She gathers together a crew to find the stone in the catacombs of Paris, but there are other things that lurk down below.

I would consider myself a big time movie/tv person. Have I seen everything? No. Do I like watching anything? Yeah, I'll give it a chance. I like most genres.

Horror though, I have mixed feelings.

Now, I'm gonna be honest, it was hard trying to go into this movie open minded. I have a love/hate relationship with the Horror genre of movies. Older classics like John Carpenter's Thing, Alien, even Scream are movies I adore. But...modern horror movies are a pain to me. I hate how they use shortcuts to try and scare me with random ass Jump-scare for no purpose other than to scare me. It's ridiculous! I can call out when the jump-scares happen, and they Still scare me because of the freaking sound track!

Anyway. I felt it would be unfair for me to say how much I like/dislike the movie without mentioning my preferences. If you like the newer horror movies, awesome, you do you, but for me, its like one of those gatchapon machines where theres a 50/50,chance you'll like it or not.

With that out of the way, lets Actually start talking about the movie.

The movie is shot in Found Footage style and that already added a tally against it in the 1st minute. I am not a fan of found footage. I know that it's popular to make it cheap and personal, but it makes it so hard to follow what is going on. When they are being chased or attacked, I don't know whats happening! Its too dark to tell, the camera is jostling around making me slightly nauseous, and if it does show something, its only for like 5 seconds unless it is stupidly close! There were parts that felt more like watching a Let's Play of a 1st person horror game. Run Run Run, Punch Monster, Run.

It is due to this 1st Person view that, not gonna lie, I barely followed how they got into the catacombs in the first place. Scarlett was in Iran...then she went to France, then...a church to pick up a reverse vandalizer, club, tunnel, catacombs. I can remember the place order, but like hell can I remember what exactly they were saying. All of that took 30 minutes and I was bored out of my mind. And the things that I do remember, they just sort of randomly popped up? Like, they were discussing on whether to jump into the hole

There are parts of the movie that I think was their attempts to build atmosphere, but sort of came out of left field. They say a pale woman walk away from a club: ok. They see her...directing the creepy ass ghost choir?? No idea what that was about. Then They ran into statues that just....came to life to bite at them??? This,was Never Mentioned as potential threats anywhere, it was as if the movie decided it needs random encounters to fill the climax, which is a shame because the tension in this in the middle was really good.

In the middle, when they are Finally going underground to when things got fucked, had a good tense build up. Showing landmarkers that shouldn't be on their route later on. Local lore of "don’t go down the cursed tunnel" (PSA: If the locals say don't do something, don't do it). They get trapped trying to crawl through a pile of bones. Now that part wasn't scary, but was Very Uncomfortable, especially if you have claustrophobia. They have just...random ass things appear like a Piano and Phone which, these people are dumbasses for thinking those things are natural to be there, but does add a good "what the hell" moment that just pikes on. I thought they might go the whole "vague supernatural tunnel turning tricks and getting them to turn on each other" route instead of "slowing pick one off one by one" type. And maybe that’s what they were trying to have, but it was still random monsters popping out to attack so... c'est la vie.

Another thing I take issue with is part of the lore they use for the Philosophers stone. First, they use the legends and work of alchemists. And that’s pretty cool. Like mystical National Treasure, unlock secret symbols and solve chemical problems. There was a part where they had to figure out the number of celestial planets in the sky based on what century the stone came from since it kept changing over the years, that part was pretty clever. I didn’t know the information, but i appreciated the history.

But they just add random bits from around the world to be like "ooh they connected" like, ok. They have alchemist lore, 14th century Flamel. Makes sense. Then they add a mummy of a crusades guy. I don't know which crusades, but it doesn't matter since he was used more as a prop than plot device. Hell it might be Flamel himself, I don’t know. Then they throw...Ancient Egypt....Sure. Why not. Alchemists could go to Egypt to learn then stick hieroglyphics and traps in the french catacombs. Given how I don't know anything about alchemists history, I'll go with it.

What I WONT accept is them calling Dante's Inferno Mythology! That is Bullshit! I call BullShit! That! Is where I DRAW THE LINE!!

Because they carved "abandon all hope he who enter here" into the tunnel wall when things turned batshit and thats where i gave up on the lore.

Dante's Divine Comedy is not a myth! It is a poem! A poem written by Dante about Christain ideology of what heaven and hell is like! But the movie doesn't give a shit. The line just sounds cool to have as they go deeper into the tunnels!

If they just went with Dante references and alchemist lore, I would have been fine there. The main reason I got angry at that part with Scarrlet saying about "Dantes myth" is that she knows like 5 languages + 2 dead ones, all this backstory and alchemist stuff, and she doesn't know that inferno was a poem? Yes, part of that is semantics and technicalities, but it sort of pulled me out of the world a bit. Because at that point, it felt like they were picking and choosing lore to fit in because it sounded cool. Have an egyptian trap! Why? Because it was cool! Have hieroglyphic puzzle to find the stone? Sure, don’t know why it’s in France but whatever! I dont know. It threw me off because it felt like they were adding too much, which is a shame because some of the Dante references like traveling through a pool of blood was really good.

I don't get the visions. I really don't. Like...random pianos and telephones just appear on level one of their journey, that calls out to their memory. Which is...bizzare. Especially since they actually touch the freaking things. Like, don't touch the childhood piano! It will make things worse! Seriously! White people!

You later learn that the visions come from their sins (like the one and only tormented sin they got) and it is only when I googled the end of the movie did I learn that they have to acknowledge their sins or die. Which if you have to google the movie to understand the message, the message didn't go through. And opens up to more questions.

Because there were other people that died that didn't get to see their sin visions. George and Scarlett got taunted with pianos and objects since the 1st floor. What about Benji? He was followed by the creepy ghost choir and fell down a hole. Tell me what sin that means. Do They....all have sins, or did the vague demons here have to kill off the innocent ones first before putting the focus on the true targets?

And Scarlett finding out that the power was in her all along? What? Did she...consume the power? Was it transferred? Did she have it since she was born? Does she still have it? It felt like a bad moment to throw in a self esteem psa in this movie.

I will give the movie credit though, i liked how they were forced to go down to get out. When everything turns to shit and they have to do the same things they did but in reverse order, but still forced to go down, that was good. It adds to the tension of "holy fuck how are they gonna get out is this even the right path?" And that last scene with the manhole, gorgeous. Really truly gorgeous. It just shakes you to the core with what you are seeing.

But Overall.....yeah did not like this movie. Wasn't a fan of shakey cam. Wasn’t a fan of the "gotcha" jump scares. The movie felt a little more uncomfortable than scary to me with the claustrophobia. There were a bunch of times where I had to check how long was left in the movie because I was really bored with what was happening. I did like the use of alchemist lore, the Egyptian trap scene, and the end scene, but just wished they stuck to one part than try to mash up different myths to fit.

And if they wanted to stick with Dante, fine. Apparently this entire movie was an allegory of Dantes inferno. (Thanks google) But while i can appreciate looking back on it in hindsight, it doesn't change the fact that I really didn't "get" the symbolic nature of what they were trying to do in the initial watch. Maybe if I rewatch it I would appreciate it more, but I would just skip like half the movie to the actual cave exploring part because I am not sitting through the full thing again.

If you like horror movies with historic flair, this might be for you. But its not my cup of gatorade.

#dafuking films #as above so below #as above so below movie #week 6 movie #dafukblog

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roseamongroses · 4 years

Text

W.A.L: “Fly Me to the Moon” Part One (22)

s u m m a r y:

Eden was the lowest of the low, a monster, hardly human, and was set to be executed. Roman was on trial, perpetually stuck in time until it was time to atone for his families sins.

Neither cared much for staying trapped.

So when a Stranger offered freedom, offered peace, offered power, it was hard to say no.

Even if it put them on the wrong side of history.

v i b e s :

time is irrelevent, homophobia who?, magic and beasts, demigods

w a r n i n g s

Imprisonment, Mentions of execution, Blood/ injuries, Mentions of past Death, minor character death/suicide, repression, cursing,

c h a r a c t e r s

Deceit(Eden) Sanders, Remy Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Emile Picani

Ship: Roceit

1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

(6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)

(12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17)

---

“Are the rest of the brats getting ready?” Roman asked, picking up a comb and a jar of moisturizer.

“Uh-- I think so?” Lauren winced sitting back, “I wouldn’t know, Kai’s being… weird,” Roman ran their hand experimentally through the now kinkier coils in her hair, the light tugging of her scalp painfully nostalgic.

She’d always prefered her hair straight, but she never went so long without taking a break. It was mainly luck that she hadn’t had any major heat damage, but even that fear didn’t make the idea any more appealing.

You could say she was avoiding it in a way.

Her mom had always insisted on braiding Lauren’s hair herself, so the act was tangled with her in every way. Doing it by herself now only made her mom’s absence louder, but having Roman here made it better.

“Weird how?” Roman asked, detangling her hair, “Is he getting pissy about getting his ass kicked?”

“No…” She said, bracing herself, “That’s why it's weird. He’s not complaining, he’s avoiding me,” She sighed, feeling strangely annoyed. It wasn’t like she liked the constant arguing, but this was just odd…. Did she do something wrong?

Why does she even care?

Roman’s hands stopped mid braid, “Oh,” he hummed before resuming, “Maybe he’s just in a mood,” he said, a laugh peeking through his tone.

“What?” Lauren demanded.

“Nothing, nothing,” Roman snickered, “I’m just thinking about how pretty you’re going to be in that dress,” he cooed, pinching her cheek and effectively smearing whatever moisturizer he was using all over her cheek.

“Gross,” Lauren scowled to keep the smile from her face, “Anyway you’re too calm about this,” she said, her worry bubbling at the thought of just… walking into Council territory, “Do you really believe Drak’on’s going to play fair?”

It could go a lot of ways.

Logan was fair to a fault, so she wasn’t worried about dirty tricks from him. But he was predictable in a dangerous way. He had a never ending consistency that tended to wear people down. Roman wasn’t as unpredictable as Remus, but he had a similar quality. He couldn’t afford to trust that his body and magic would perform the same way every time, so he had to be creative, and more than often had to run himself ragged.

“Are you worried?” Roman asked, but it was more like an observation.

“You should be,” Lauren grumbled.

“I’m not,” Roman said.

She was oddly comforted by the finality of the promise.

---

Upon opening the letter, they were taken in a flash of light.

They first saw a glittering series of arcs that were almost translucent. It was as if the towering structure was merely ideas carved into the stars, but it solid beneath their feet. Deceit wasn’t sure how he was breathing with the world so far beneath him, with the stars so close.

The Offerings were a series of events, of elaborate ceremonies, of balls. A celebration at it's finest, but preformative grief at its core. Councilmen decked out in elaborate gowns and ancient suits milled inside the glittering gates, magic flowing from people’s tongues as easy as they laughed.

The brats were pretty much gawking, but thankfully they didn’t wander off.

Roman’s face betrayed nothing but unapologetic decadence. Their hair braided high before exploding into a fire of curls and flowers. All signs of exhaustion were wiped clean behind rosy lips and impossibly dark lashes that were stark against his eyes. Roman was in his element to anyone with eyes, but his death grip on Deceit’s arm told another story.

Which to be fair, was expected. They were deep in Councilmen territory, with their invitation only being allowed due to the technicalities of their situation--i.e all the alleged crimes not being directly linked to anyone, but The Stranger-- and Drak’on’s disturbing amount of influence.

Still Deceit knew that wasn’t it, “Roman?” He said, the question hanging in the air between them as they handed off their bags.

“The curse,” Roman sighed, “Even if I have temporary immunity, I keep expecting to...It’s more mental than anything,” he explained, low, “It shouldn’t be a problem, but...forgive me if I’m a bit more clingy,”

“That’s it?” He said scrutinizing them. They'd gotten better at actually vocalizing their limits lately, but Deceit knew he’d be more willing to cover it up in order to not cause a scene.

“E… Darling... tonight will be fine,” Roman promised. He tilted his head, horns catching the light and his eyes having a hungry glint, “You trust me?”

Deceit was breathless, “Something like that.”

---

Virgil stirred the brothy, something, in front of him, mildly impressed by how shiny the utensils were, but mostly getting sick by how rich everything tasted. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to eating “good” food, in fact from what he could remember he was most likely used to it, but there was a different level of luxury here. It was almost irritating.

Actually a lot of things were irritating, the key one being that his supposed date fucked off to schmooze with rich bastards, but the most alarming part of that was that Virgil wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to Logan at all right now.

It was all duel this and duel that lately. About how this is what he always deserved, how he’ll somehow become better--how everything will become better once he finally puts this to rest and claim his rightful place. Virgil’s beginning to suspect that Logan didn’t even realize how obsessed he was getting with it.

In fact, Virgil suspected that Logan’s always been obsessed with this, but Dr. Picani never let him fixate on that need entirely. Even if Dr. Picani was low-key just as dysfunctional as his Apprentices, the man was disgustingly determined to create a somewhat functional life for them.

But Dr. Picani was gone, even if they found him-- his consciousness had yet to return. All they had now was Ms. Annalise Drak’on, someone who apparently had no issue with feeding Logan’s obsession.

Virgil felt sick.

He stood, not caring about how loudly he dropped the utensils or about the dirty looks sent his way as he pushed his way through the crowd. The band was some pseudo-jazz, a thundering accompaniment to his rising anxiety and the dazzling lights were getting too much and--

His spiraling halted upon catching the faintest blue flash in the corner of his eye. Turning around he met Patton’s eyes. Virgil flinched and for the briefest moment Patton’s brow furrowed, before smoothing into his normal dazed expression, “You’re alone?”

Virgil wanted to scowl, but he couldn’t. He was alone and he wasn't sure how long its been draining away at him.

Patton nodded at his non-response, “You need air,” he said, before turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd. It took a few seconds before Virgil realized he was meant to follow.

Virgil somehow found himself out of the crowd, feeling the cool air first, and the relief of being away from all of those people all at once. Patton was already there leaning against the balcony, the translucent beads of their gown soft against the blue of the distant earth.

Patton turned his head to acknowledge him, “Is this better?”

“I think so,” Virgil sighed, slumping against the balcony, “Uh… thanks, I guess,” Patton laughed, an off colored chirp that normally unnerved Virgil, but now only made him blush, “What?”

“I don’t scare you anymore, do I?” Patton said, covering his mouth.

“I was never--” Virgil winced at the lie, “Was I that obvious?”

“Yes, but…” Patton started, trailing off, “I didn’t mind completely,”

Virgil frowned, “You didn’t mind me being an asshole?”

“I minded,” Patton said, “But at least you didn’t hide it,” he shrugged as if that explained it all, “I knew Logan and Emile cared about me, but… it was like they were afraid to admit that they didn’t always feel safe,”

“...Should we feel safe?’ Virgil said, twisting and untwisting the loose hair.

Patton didn’t respond immediately, tracing the rail, “I wish you could, but I…” he sighed, “Watchdogs aren’t meant to be outside the colonies for long without a bond...we aren’t built for that. When I’m home I can feel-- I’m in control,” he said, “But here, it feels like all I can do is take orders and hope, there’s nothing else there,” His face twisted unnaturally, but his eyes remained blank.

“Why…” Virgil tore his gaze away, “After Remus….Why didn’t you go to Roman?” he asked. It seemed simple, just go to another Sanders, a legal, full magic Sanders--

“I wasn’t in love with Roman,” Patton said, with no theatrics, but the simplicity throbbed with something intense, “Why didn’t you die in the river?”

“I-” Rushing water, blood everywhere,it was only supposed to be a game, it was a game it was a game, it was a game, “I didn’t want to die.”

“You’re lying,” Patton said, matter of fact.

Virgil blew out his cheeks, “I got lucky,” he admitted. Lucky that he wasn’t deemed enough of a threat by the other two. Lucky that the vial seared in his hand instead of in his eyes or down his throat. Lucky that at the end of the day, he thought it was a just game. Something stupid to do before church.

If only he knew that it was The Stranger’s Game he was playing.

“Well...I’m glad you were lucky,” Patton said quietly, “I wouldn’t have met you and I certainly wouldn’t have stayed for as long as I did without you two…”

Virgil’s throat tightened, “I…” he wiped his eyes, “Why do I feel like that’s a goodbye?” he choked out a bitter laugh.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Patton smiled, “You could always visit the colonies,” he said wistfully, and Virgil swore he glowed a little bit brighter, “I might be a bit...different there, but it's a good different,”

“...Can you tell me more about it?” Virgil asked.

Patton did.

He told Virgil about the fountains-- how water dripped like fire, but was icy to the touch. He talked about how young watchdogs burned holes in their cribs and terrorized their families. About the family dinners, with plates overflowing with food--how each story and laugh was never the same.

He told Virgil about how the community grew closer and took care of each other in spite of the stricter regulations. About how they’re even planning to build their own schools instead of relying on council tutors. He told Virgil about his mom and dad, about how they missed him, but understood he wanted to see his friends. He told Virgil about everything he missed and hated and seemed to glow a little bit brighter with each second.

Virgil doesn’t know why, but it felt nice. It sounded nice--talking to Patton was nice in a way that Virgil didn’t even know he missed. It's been awhile since he just...had fun.

The music changed, to something delicate--a soft piano, followed by a low, breathy voice. Patton’s voice trailed off and he closed his eyes swaying to the lullaby.

Virgil asked him for a dance.

#ts sides #roceit #ts deceit #ts janus #ts roman #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #Winners Among the Losing

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margridarnauds · 5 years

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Can you please talk about Imhotep x Anck Sun Amun. Anything. I’ve come back to one of my age old opts and I need your help

Oh my God, I’ll try! (Warning: Contains some salt for the second film, though it comes from a place of love and affection, and much rambling, which isn’t helped by the fact that it’s been a little while since I’ve seen both films but still have many feelings, also tw: for references to rape)

Like you, they were probably one of my oldest OTPs, and I’ve always been more or less consistent on them. (I remember being SO disappointed as a kid with the finale of the Animated Series when Imhotep just...walks away from her.) I absolutely loved how EPIC and tragic it was, and I was always rooting for them to get a happy ending. (And I was always disappointed, until I discovered the wonderful world of fanfic.) The Mummy is actually what got me started with my interest in history, and so I really do owe it a big one for that. It’s probably one of the single most influential pieces of media I’ve consumed in my life. I definitely think they were at their strongest in The Mummy; that’s the film that really DEFINES the ship for me, despite Anck getting relatively little time. Like, in the course of the introduction, we find out several things in quick succession: That Imhotep was Pharaoh’s high priest, that Anck was his mistress, and that they loved each other enough that "For their love, they were willing to risk life itself.” And then, after THAT, we learn that they were willing to kill PHARAOH, AKA the MEDIATOR BETWEEN THE DIVINE AND THE MORTAL REALM for the sake of each other. One of the things I actually realized while I was rewatching The Scene is that there’s actually a moment immediately after Pharaoh’s asked her who touched her where she looks at her arm and has a brief moment of surprise, starting just a LITTLE before she turns to look at Seti and then, behind him...

She is TERRIFIED at this point. I think that killing Pharaoh was probably been something they’d considered, possibly talked about, but I have some strong doubts that this particular part was planned out. (Though I could also be very, very easily persuaded otherwise as well; it’s the kind of thing I’ve gone back and forth on over the years.) And then the two of them work TOGETHER to kill Pharaoh. Anck isn’t passively sitting by while her lover kills Seti, she’s actively participating in it, taking the first stab even before Imhotep gets to it, when he’s just drawn his sword. And, when the Medjai come, Imhotep was willing to DIE for her, only being dragged away by his priests, even though Anck had begged him to leave so that he could resurrect her. And then we learn a little bit about why she might not have hesitated to kill Pharaoh before Imhotep did...

This is what she chooses as her LAST WORDS. A defiant statement saying, once and for all, that she’s never going to be violated again, her last action seizing agency for herself, killing herself before letting her fate being dictated by someone else again (and to prevent her from the painful, painful death that would have awaited her otherwise). All while letting the man she chose to be with, to love, escape while she took the full blame (it’s mentioned in the original script by Narrator!Imhotep that “For murdering Pharaoh, Anck-su-namun's body was to be cursed. And it was I, the High Priest, whose duty it was to curse it.” Which...holy ANGST Batman. Given how IMPORTANT the body was to Ancient Egyptian beliefs relating to the afterlife and how important the afterlife really WAS, this must have killed him, even if he might have justified to himself that he was going to get her back.

I’ll never entirely forgive the second film for changing her from “mistress” to “fiancee” (which seems to give her more...security, than her just being a concubine, though realistically Seti has MULTIPLE wives, but The Mummy doesn’t MENTION them or Nefertiti’s mother, so...) and deciding that she was going to be an Obvious Dark Sexy Lady from the get-go, when this is pretty damn self-explanatory. But they’d decided that Nefertiti was going to be Evie, and Seti was now the BELOVED FATHER of our heroine, and so of course Seti has to be a loving, kind father whose death was a great tragedy. (Though...personally, I choose to go with Nefertiti as an unreliable narrator. Of course she’s not going to have sympathy for a common concubine who murdered her rightful king, she had to have been a scheming, manipulative woman from the beginning. Seti can be a loving father...who still treated Anck as if she was an object for his pleasure.)

It’s just...so, so important for me to emphasize that she CHOSE to love Imhotep, that he might very well have BEEN the only man she CHOSE to be with in her life

And I’ve focused a lot on this opening and how IMPORTANT it is because it’s literally the first thing we see, and it’s what sets up the entire series. “For their love, they were willing to risk life itself” and, as it turns out, their afterlives as well. Even while Imhotep’s been turned into a cursed figure, doomed to bring the Ten Plagues of Egypt, he has two essential goals (1) Get himself rejuvenated so he won’t run up a tree whenever a cat comes along and (2) Get Anck back. Like...holy SHIT. He was willing to tear down this world and the next just to have the life with her that they SHOULD have had, in another world.

One of the things that really stood out while I was looking for sources to work with was something that Pete Hammond, a film critic said, which is that "people want to believe in a life after death situation," which is TRUE, and explains a lot of the appeal of figures like ghosts and zombies and mummies (who are kind of specifically Egyptian zombies, as far as their ties to imperialism are concerned, but I digress), but also with Imhotep and Anck-su-Namun in particular, it’s the idea of a star-crossed love so incredibly powerful that it lasts for MILLENNIA, in defiance of death and life. It’s destructive, to the society they live in, to the world at large, but it’s epic love at its finest and it was something they both fought like Hell for.

And then we get the second film. And in the second film, there’s obviously the ambiguity between Anck and Meela, and which one is which. Still, I think that for the MOST part the person we see in the film is more or less meant to be the person that Anck was in the past, given that there are traces of that in the pre-canon flashbacks, such as the opposition of Nefertiti VS Ankh su Namun, Pharaoh’s daughter VS the mistress, light feminine VS dark feminine, which then is repeated throughout film with Evie VS Anck/Meela, though to be fair, I’m not sure that the WRITERS were 100% sure where one began and the other ended. Which is probably a consequence of defining Anck in the first film mainly as “a goddess” and “gorgeous” the latter of which the film notes EVEN AFTER SHE’S DEAD, but I digress. The novelization plays with it a little bit, having Meela be the one to desert Imhotep, not Anck, running as her identities collapsed in on themselves. The one script I was able to get my hands on that seemed like it might be halfway legitimate rather than just a transcript said that he “realizes that she never loved him,” which seems to swing the opposite direction, being more in line with the Animated Series which would follow it where Anck is a villain whose “Love” for Imhotep is entirely opportunistic.

Personally, even though I waffle back and forth on this one, I think that Meela is slightly more outwardly vampy than Anck, slightly more pragmatic (Anck was always pragmatic, don’t get me wrong, THAT’S shown by her asking Imhotep to leave so he could resurrect her, but it’s...DIFFERENT, in that I can’t see Meela stabbing herself in the stomach either.) But, we did get some solid OTP content in this film:

THE LONGING. HOLY SHIT. Like, we know so little about their relationship pre-canon, but obviously, with the whole “Body paint” issue, I honestly don’t see how they would have had TOO much time available for sexytimes, and so you have this situation where they have to try to repress so much around each other when they love each other so much, and sometimes they fail and there are those LOOKS (which cues Nefertiti in on it, so bad move guys, but...#YouTried). I don’t think that they were chaste, per se, given that they were going to do SOMETHING in Anck’s bedchamber before Pharaoh arrived, but I think that their time together was limited and always fraught with the danger of being discovered.

Which also ties into one of the major THINGS in both movies, which is that almost-but-not-quite-touch. There’s such an INTIMACY there, so much mutual pining. Even when they kiss and everything is ruined for them, look at how they do it.

It’s so SLOW and longing, the way that Imhotep’s hands just kind of hover for a little while before going to her shoulders as he angles for the kiss. I mean, this is some REGENCY level pining here. Albeit. In Anck’s bedchamber. But still.

Honestly, I think one of the biggest dick moves the second film did was use them as a foil for the O’Connell’s One True Love. Like, at the end of the first film, there are two love arcs, and for Imhotep to fulfill his and get Anck back, Evie has to be sacrificed, while for Rick to succeed (and save the world!), Imhotep’s gotta go. There’s no real way around this.

With the second film, though, it comes down more to the two ladies, with BOTH of them having the chance to save their respective love interests. Evie, obviously, goes to save Rick, but Anck...wavers? Suddenly? And you could make an argument that Imhotep wavers himself, given that he chose fighting the Scorpion King for power rather than staying behind with her, but...still. After all these years? The novel explains it as Meela coming back and reasserting herself, but in the film proper it really doesn’t make as much sense, unless you go with the idea that she was never in love with Imhotep, as mentioned in the script above, or at the very least, that it was somehow LESSER to the love that Evie has for Rick, which switches the narrative of the first film from World-Destroying, Epic Love of the Undead VS World-Saving Love of the Living to Fake Love VS Real True Love (With the appropriate child to show it, while Imhotep and Anck can...obviously not produce children. Which I wouldn’t want to bring up normally but given how MUCH of Evie’s identity in the film is tied to her being Alex’s mom, Rick’s wife, and Seti’s daughter...). Which...I fundamentally can’t believe. I can’t believe that after everything the two of them did for each other, how IMPORTANT they both were, that it was just an infatuation. It adds a pointless element to Imhotep’s arc that doesn’t really make sense with what we’d seen before. The tragedy, for me, with their relationship was never that one loved the other more or less; it was that they lived in a world where it simply couldn’t happen, whereas Rick and Evie DID.

The quote that I’ve gone back to time and time again is, “For their love, they were willing to risk life itself,” THEIR. Always THEIR. No matter what, they felt strongly enough for one another that they were willing to do anything so long as it kept the other by their side, and they did it TOGETHER.

Tl;dr: Iconic ship, iconic characters, 100/10 will stan for eternity

#the mummy #anck su namun #long post #xenowlsome

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parasite-core · 4 years

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@aggressivewolfstarshipper Thank you so much for the OC questions :) I hope you don’t mind I answer them here, it got a bit long to answer in chat.

When does each OC go to bed?

Aiden: Is a morning person by necessity. He goes to bed early and gets up early. He had a lot of work to do daily, starting early and lasting for much of the day. He would fish early in the morning at dawn, help with mending tools and making new ones, and lend a hand with farming or hunting when needed.

Lyra: Is a deep sleeper who would be a night owl and late riser if she could get away with it, but is generally woken up early to help with chores around the house, sewing and mending, and taking care of the animals.

Ceron: Huge night owl. He loves nothing more than the quiet hours in the dead of night when nothing is expected of the few people still awake, and he can peacefully read his books or work on his research uninterrupted.

Dawn: Neither a night owl nor an early bird by virtue of living underground with no sense of day or night. Her people simply sleep when they’re tired. The fact that different people have different natural sleep cycles works in their favor, since some people will always be awake when others are asleep, so there’s always someone with eyes open for a possible Diaske attack.

Where do they live?

I’m going off where they grew up, because a few of them end up unable to return home early in the story so some of this changes early on.

Aiden and Lyra: The Valentia siblings grew up in a small coastal village called Grymora. It’s a self sufficient little village that doesn’t have much contact with the larger cities to the north due to the danger Diaske raiding parties present to travelers moving between towns. Much of their livelihood is made from fishing and farming.

The village is kept safe from the Diaske raids because once a decade they draw lots and sacrifice a dozen people between the ages 16-60 by throwing them into the Abyss for the Diaske to take. These sacrifices keep the Diaske appeased. It’s considered the highest act of cowardice to run away from your duty if you’re chosen, and it’s also the most noble act to volunteer to be chosen. Those who volunteer exempt the rest of their family from the lot for that decade’s drawing, and this is often chosen by people nearing 60 who don’t want to put their younger family members in the line of danger.

They’re led by a council of elders, who are all people who have lived past the age to be eligible for sacrifice. ‘Strangely’ it seems some families make it to this age more often than others, which has created an unofficial ruling class within the village.

Ceron: Ceron grew up in the largest human city on the continent Tymprase. It’s been able to reach a higher level of prosperity than the smaller villages because it’s under the direct protection of the Twilisk, who keep the Diaske raiders at bay. Unlike the smaller towns, people in Tymprase can travel to trade with other human settlements, as followers of the Order of Twilight can get members of the Twilisk to escort them safely outside the city walls. The city is dedicated to learning, science, and the growth of humanity.

In exchange for their protection, the people of Tymprase follow the edicts of the Twilisk. While the majority of people in town are just regular people going about their business and casually following the Twilisk as much or little as they feel is socially acceptable, there’s a very large portion of people fully dedicated to the teachings of the Twilisk, and anyone with any sway in the city is a follower. The Order of Twilight is the most powerful group in town, the Shineblood at the head of the city’s temple is the closest thing to a ruler they have. The goal of members of the temple is to master themselves enough to be seen as worthy to ascend by the Twilisk, to be taken to the Isle of Twilight to become Shineblooded themselves, and return as something more than human. Only a select few have ever been chosen, and even fewer have ever returned, but the promise of self actualization and power beyond human comprehension keeps people reaching for this goal.

Dawn: Dawn is from The Abyss. Specifically a small settlement called Jra’Starr, settled by Shadowblooded rebels who call themselves Elves, in reference to an ancient story of a race of immortals said to have been sent by the Twilisk at the dawn of time to drive the Diaske to the Abyss. This settlement is made up of former humans who became trapped in the Abyss for one reason or another, and who eventually succumbed to becoming Shadowblooded out of their hatred and desire for revenge against the Diaske in the Abyss who tortured and hunted them at every turn. They took the name of those who bested the Diaske once before, and swore to become the avengers of humanity within the Abyss. The majority of them have no desire to return to the surface anymore, in part because they fear their new forms will be hideous to former loved ones, and in part because their desire to destroy the Diaske has become so integral to their being that the idea of leaving the fight to return home isn’t even an option in their minds.

Jra’Starr has little in the way of commerce or sustenance, as a rogue settlement in the heart of the Abyss. The elves primarily scavenge and hunt for food, although there are some edible fungi and roots that they’ve cultivated within their village to help ease the need for dangerous scavenging missions. All members of the elven people old enough to learn a weapon are trained as warriors and hunters by necessity, as they’re a small settlement in the heart of enemy territory, always one attack away from being wiped out.

Which ones have mental disorders they refuse to address?

This is a tough one, in part because these characters haven’t fully settled so answers to something like this might change, in part because I’m not neurotypical so I don’t think I’ve ever written a single wholly neurotypical character in my life (although I don’t always have the knowledge to say what a character would have in reality if they were to be diagnosed with something), and in part because of the setting. They’re not in a setting where mental disorders are treated well, especially in the human society, so even if they knew and had the right language for it, it would be difficult to seek legitimate help. A lot of this is because of humanity following the Twilisk, who believe emotions are a weakness and a poison, so many mental disorders are waved off by followers of the Path of Twilight as the person’s weakness and inability to better control their mental state, rather than being taken seriously as something they have no control over.

For instance Lyra and Aiden’s mother has severe depression, but is considered anywhere from lazy to cursed rather than being given the sympathy and help she needs, and as a result Lyra ends up in some difficult situations without her mother’s help, because her mother isn’t in a fit mental state to be the mother Lyra needs. This also causes Lyra and Aiden to mask any similar symptoms they might have, in fear of being treated the same, which wears on a person over time.

Ceron has a lot going on in his head and wouldn’t go looking for help for any of it. He was raised in the Order of Twilight temple, so he was submerged from a young age in the teachings that emotions are dirty evil things that humanity needs to purge to ascend to greater heights. He isn’t good at controlling and masking his emotions at all, he wears his heart on his sleeve whether he wants to or not, which causes him a lot of self loathing and guilt, because he’s trying his hardest to live up to the Twilisk’s edicts but still falling short. He feels like anywhere from a failure to a monster depending on the day, which makes him try even harder to hide his feelings, which in turn inevitably leads to his emotions exploding when it’s too much and him circling back around to feeling terrible about ‘losing control’.

Aiden and Ceron both have some level of anxiety. Ceron’s is more generalized anxiety, while Aiden’s is more about how others view him. Aiden has a great deal of self doubt he masks by trying to act tougher and braver than everyone else, because it tears him apart to even think someone might think he’s a coward like his father. Lyra and Aiden both have some level of abandonment issues from their father leaving. Aiden shows it more, becoming a bit clingy with people he gets close to and stressing when they leave, whereas Lyra bottles it up and gets distant when she starts getting scared she’s going to be abandoned. Essentially beat them to the punch of cutting ties, make it on her own terms in her perception.

Dawn is probably the most well adjusted of the main cast, but she was still taught as a child how to be a warrior and that fighting the Diaske is the most noble cause she should always strive for, so there’s definitely still some issues there. Probably some PTSD from fighting and killing from a young age, and a bit of a dangerous hero complex, if nothing else.

#long post #into the abyss #oc questions #Imm sorry for the long post I’m on mobile and I apparantly don’t know my password anymore #and I used an old enail address to make this accoubt #so I can’t log in on my computer anymore to put a read more on my posts D:

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ardent-apprentice · 5 years

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Sol, The Ardent Apprentice

A short story by: Ominous_The_Unknown

In the magical world of Runeterra, mountains move, forests come alive, the dead assault the living, and reality sometimes fractures to give a brief glimpse to the horrible Void beyond. But even though the arcane energies course through all the nations, there is no other place quite as whimsical like Bandle City, the central hub of Yordle life. Across the lands, these short creatures are seen in a multitude of different perspectives. Forest fae-folk, mischievous imps, urban legends, valiant warriors, and heinous villains, Yordles always seem to be synonymous with some kind of outstanding trait that makes them outstanding in their own right.

During their early, formative years, young Yordles quickly come to find what makes them unique from one another and once they do, they soon set themselves down the path to honing their skills to try and become the best in their craft. Of course, not every Yordle specialized in entirely different things. It was common for some to be gifted a knack for tinkering and invention much like the great minds of Heimerdinger, Rumble or Ziggs. Others were given more physical, combative skills like Tristana or Teemo. And of course, there was the occasional magic user like Lulu. But what happens when your talent doesn’t manifest when it should? What happens when the people around you develop some kind of magnificent skill when you are left with nothing?

Sol was forced to ask himself this question many times over when he realized that the other young Yordles around him were attaining their unique abilities whereas he had none. In the beginning, he was assured that he would find his niche soon enough, but time passed and he still found himself left in the dust. He would watch as others were able to conjure small balls of energy, create phantasmal elemental displays, briefly summon ethereal aurora-like creatures, or even infuse machines to give them extra vigor. It wasn’t long before the older Yordles decided to properly study him. A few of the more astute researchers of the city came together and performed a few tests on him, hoping to find the answer.

Then, to Sol’s horror, he was finally given the bad news.

Unlike the others, the charcoal gray yordle was magically inept and lacked a mana pool to draw the necessary arcane energies do anything noteworthy. At that very moment, it was as if the weight of Mount Targon was set upon the Yordle’s heart. The information was a curse that forced Sol to watch helplessly as his close friends became apprentices to some of Bandle City’s champions while he was subjected to a mundane and unfulfilling life. Even at a young age, Sol felt that his dreams of becoming some well known Yordle had been destroyed. He grappled with the idea for a while and in the end, he outright refused to accept it.

Bitterness and envy slowly slithered into the young Yordle’s heart, poisoning him ever so slightly, but instead of letting it destroy him, Sol used it to push onwards. Soon it became apparent that what Sol lacked in magical prowess, he made up for in tenacity, boldness, and creativity. Bullies would, of course, try to take advantage of him or tease him as they flaunted their skills in front of him. The name-calling, the minor physical altercations, the laughter, it stung, but Sol relied on the fact that they underestimated him so that he could beat them at their own games.

If anything, his newfound strength despite his lack of mana actually made him stand out more because he would do everything in his power to ensure that no one looked down on him. He refused to sulk, he refused pity, and above all else, he sought to break the fate that had been cruelly handed to him. Within the Yordle, a sort of bullheaded attitude emerged as he sought to absorb as much information as possible to see if anything triggered some latent talent hidden within. Archery, crafting, smithing, politics, Sol would attempt to learn everything. Even when he didn’t become a master at it, he at least came away with some experience. Ultimately, this meant that Sol became known as a jack-of-all-trades.

But once Sol became an adolescent, he realized that his accumulated skills still weren’t enough. Instead of continuing to study within the small confines of Bandle City. the abnormal Yordle made the decision to explore the world. Many people within the city knew that it was possible and that even some of the more famous Yordles had survived to become rather huge stars in other cities, but it was still a risky decision. The elders of the city said he was a fool and that without forging his own unique talent that he would quickly die without any ability to protect himself, but Sol’s close friends knew that because of his myriad of skills that he would forge his own path.

The young Yordle quickly assembled enough equipment and other necessities and bid a fond farewell to Bandle City and its inhabitants before he journeyed outwards. He would find new mentors, make new friends and discover what was truly hidden deep within him.

---------------------------------------------

There were many limitations to being a Yordle. In some places they were seen as normal living beings with rights, others they were a myth and in a select few they were abhorred and either cast out like plague bearers or maybe even attacked on sight. With that in mind, there were unwritten rules for traveling abroad as a Yordle.

The first and probably most important rule is to never reveal oneself as a Yordle. Information travels slowly through Runeterra, and even though some progressive regions accepted all races that was not the case for the majority of the world. To socialize, most traveling Yordles were often given a magical glamour that would simply disguise them as short humans. There were some fringe cases of course, like the valiant Poppy, deranged Kled and estranged Lulu, but that was mostly because they were more than capable of defending themselves if they were ever threatened with violence. For other Yordles, physical altercations were best avoided.

Even with a rather large list of practical skills, without magical energy Sol’s friends and family knew that it would be best if he traveled prepared. Before departing, Sol was gifted an enchanted pendant that could accomplish such a task, but he soon discovered that his mana deficiency would cause issues. The glamour itself very slowly used up the wearer’s mana when being used, and in most cases, a regular Yordle could wear it for as long as they wanted since they would regenerate the energy just as fast as it was being depleted. So in Sol’s case, he could only activate the pendant for a few days before his body ran out of mana to power it, then he would have to travel as his regular fuzzy, self to recharge. There were many instances where that proved to be a huge disadvantage, but during his adventure, he just learned ways to work around it.

Along with the stigma against his species, Sol also began to interact with various living creatures in the world. Some were warm and kind, others brave warriors filled with courage and honor, while a select few had bitterness and anger brewing within them. The growing Yordle had to observe and catalog every interaction as he started to develop his own set of rules to operate by when he revisited certain locations. His tome of rules slowly grew over time and he would openly share them with fellow Yordles that he happened to come across during his travels, for example:

Never challenge a Noxian. Their hardy nature makes them competitive and their bloodthirsty traits mean it won’t take much until they lose their temper and draw a weapon.

If a Bilgewater pirate questions if you’re a Yordle, tell them you’re just small hairy and that they’re too drunk to tell. Also, always keep a few golden krakens with you whether you believe in their superstition or not, it may just save your life.

No matter how furry you are, always wear warm layers when traveling in Freljord and try to stay dry. Wet fur can turn into solid chunks of ice if you’re not careful.

STAY AWAY FROM THE SHADOW ISLES AT ALL COSTS

When in Piltover or Zaun, try to wear a magical glamour or at the very least wear a disguise. Both places demonize Yordles and have even imprisoned them.

Piltover is nice, but there are many flashy hypocrites there who don’t know what they’re doing. However, you can always go to Heimerdinger at his laboratory for a safe haven since he’s a well-known researcher there.

Zaun is dangerous for a litany of reasons, like roving madmen, and a bloodthirsty chimera wolf-thing and just rampant lawlessness. Also, be careful of friendly fire when traveling in Zaun, Ziggs is known to go crazy there from time to time.

Sol’s notebook was starting to become an epic in its own right as it documented his travels day by day, carried numerous errata and inserted trinkets and drawings. His accumulated skills also made him a rather valuable asset in most situations as he was able to make himself useful in dire situations. Despite his short stature, Sol was able to repair a ship’s sail during a storm, cook meals for the less fortunate, and even help build makeshift shelters. Even though he wasn’t exactly perfect at the job, the mere fact that he would always volunteer to help and put himself out on the field made him very likable.

He found himself partaking in many different adventures as he followed his heart and traveled all around the world. Sol had spent some time helping on a fishing boat, infiltrating bandit camps to save captured Yordles or even cavorting in ancient ruins to find treasure or long lost secrets. If anything, the exploration of it all appealed to him the most and he loved to dig deep into the history of long dead people and inspect the artifacts that they left behind. When he sometimes came into contact with ancient relics, they would flicker or light up as the energies bound within them were somehow stirred to life, but strangely enough, when he handed those very same items to his compatriots, the object would go silent. Sol would also discover old scrolls or books written in dead languages, but just after studying the strange iconography and hieroglyphs, he seemed to understand what they meant and in some cases could even pronounce them. Sol just attributed this to his litany of skills that he had built up though and didn’t think much of it. He never bothered to inspect the magical items further, since he knew that his minuscule amount of mana would never unlock the secrets within them.

During one period, Sol had discovered a faded map of some ancient civilization in a nearby forest. He spent a week studying the language printed on it by reviewing what information he had and he deduced that there must be some kind of treasure hidden within. Sol gathered his belongings and started to move headstrong into the brush before he finally came upon his destination in a matter of two days. Using his uncanny ability to read the hieroglyphs and understand the ornate designs of the art on the walls, the charcoal black Yordle was able to avoid or even disarm most of the traps laid within the ruins before he finally discovered a hidden room with old leather-bound tome displayed on a plinth.

Even though Sol was unsure of the book’s origin, he could at least surmise that it was important and the instant he set his hands on it, multicolored energy cascaded out of it in an aurora-like tornado. The book opened as light poured out of its pages and wisps of power trailed out into the world beyond. As the pages rapidly flipped in front of him, the Yordle looked on with confused awe as he realized that he was somehow barely reading the words as they flew past him. His lips began to move on their own as the energy within the pages abated and appeared to listen. But even then it was still too much.

Sol had no idea how it was possible, but he could feel the energy pulsing through his veins before it started to become a searing hot pain that radiated through his arms and into his chest. The dark gray Yordle found himself unable to let go of the book, which brought a fresh wave of panic over him. He could feel his very life essence getting immolated from within as the foreign energies burnt to brightly inside of him.

As he was about to pass out from the pain born of the immense power another aura entered the room. For a brief moment, a dark purple and green energy appeared before a bolt of arcane power shot out of the darkness and collided with the book in his hands. The force of the blast was enough to blast the book out of Sol’s hands before it spiraled away as a burning heap. Sol crumpled to the ground, chest heaving and his vision blurring as he barely registered a figure approaching him.

Clad in dark purple garb with a large wizard’s cap atop his midnight black fur, the infamous Yordle Veigar came forward and looked down at the fallen adventurer. Before Sol could speak though, the world around him faded to black as he slipped into unconsciousness.

----------------------

III

By the time Sol woke up, he found himself in a candle-lit abode somewhere within some kind of intricate cave system. His body ached but he was at least thankful he could still move. He lay atop a creaky old bed, with some decrepit bookcases and drawers to act as furniture. Everything seemed to be secondhand, scavenged and mismatched, and yet whoever assembled everything at least took the time to clean the dust away somewhat. He could remember an infinite well of power being poured into his body. So much power that it was actually agonizing.

Without any introduction, Veigar began to berate Sol for how foolish he was being. The dark master of evil wasted no time in explaining how the tome was cleverly hidden trap meant to entice any curious magic user into coming into contact with it all for the sake of burning them from the inside out. He then expounded that if it wasn’t for him, Sol would’ve been turned into a pile of ashes on the ruin floor.

The only reason why Veigar had decided to intervene was that he noticed something strange about the trap that Sol had sprung. He explained that the book worked by manipulating a person’s innate mana pool to disrupt the inner balance within it. What he found interesting was that Sol didn’t explode as he thought he would and instead somehow started to read the text even though it was a long-dead language. Veigar then immediately began to question Sol’s identity and how he was able to not only read but speak the dead tongue but to his surprise, the dark gray Yordle could offer no solid answer.

“I just have a knack for it I guess.” Was Sol’s answer as he gave a nervous chuckle.

His answer only made Veigar raise an eyebrow skeptically before he let out an irritated sigh and reached into his coat. He then withdrew what looked like an old bone with odd letters scryed into it before he tossed it carelessly at Sol. The injured Yordle yelped as he just barely managed to catch it but the instant he saw the letters the gears began to turn in his head. It was another dialect vastly different from the ones he had seen in the book previously and yet there was some odd feeling of familiarity to them. Before Sol could ask what it was, Veigar also took out his short staff and began to focus malicious power into it. The Tiny Master of Evil then pointed the empowered end of the staff at Sol’s face before he demanded that he read the letters.

Panic immediately consumed Sol as his eyes widened and he assured Veigar that he just had a faint clue as to what the letters meant, but he could already see that the pitch black Yordle did not believe him. Sol could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest as the heat from Veigar’s magic staff brushed against his fur. He knew that reasoning wouldn’t work, so Sol looked down at the ancient bone and did his best to try and divine the meaning behind the letters.

To his surprise, everything began to click for the charcoal gray Yordle as it seemed like the ancient inscriptions somehow morphed into the words and letters that he was familiar with. Unsure as to how it was possible, Sol didn’t care and simply began to recite the words on the bone, hoping that it would appease his captive. The more Sol spoke, the candles in the room began to burn brighter before they shifted into a lavender hue. He continued to read the words before Veigar finally snatched it out of his hands and snickered.

Scared and confused, Sol asked the mage what just happened as Veigar just smirked at him. He was able to somehow divine the meaning behind dead languages before, but what he had done was on an entirely different level. Veigar then explained that somehow, someway, Sol’s innate trait was the ability to read and tap into the magic trapped within ancient artifacts. His lack of a large mana pool actually made him the perfect conduit for oddities and enchanted items to flow and mesh with him.

To further prove his point, the pitch black Yordle went over to one of the nearby shelves and carelessly pulled out of the book before he threw it at Sol. He explained that many of the books that he had procured over the years were magical in nature and most were inscribed in foreign languages both living and dead. Sol gingerly opened the book up to a random page and to his surprise, he could understand the words in there as well. Next, Veigar took what looked like an orb of polished onyx and handed it to Sol. From what the mage knew, information within the book could unlock the true potential of the artifact and he asked that Sol read a passage to see if anything happened.

Nervous, but now somehow energized at realizing his dormant talent, Sol carefully read the text before he slowly began to say the words. As he did, the orb began to vibrate and emit a low hum until it started to float.

Giddy smiles spread across both Sol and Veigar’s face at the sight of the activated artifact before the black furred Yordle crossed his arms. He then gave Sol the opportunity of a lifetime by asking if he wanted to become his apprentice and help unlock and master the magic-infused within all of the items that he discovered. Feeling that he already owed the mage a debt for saving his life, Sol gladly accepted the offer and soon his real work began.

Once he was fully healed, Sol would spend hours pouring over books, scrolls, and engraved tablets while at the same time handling and coaxing the magic out of ancient artifacts and weapons. To both his and Veigar’s surprise, he was able to unlock their true potential fairly easily as the dead languages flowed from his mouth and further accelerated his learning. Sol’s arsenal of artifacts soon grew over the years as he and Veigar traveled around, collecting items and deciphering old script as the charcoal gray Yordle was perfectly content with being a lexicon of antiquated knowledge.

#world building #league of legends #LoL #yordle #veigar

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x5red · 5 years

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Sixty fun & fascinating facts about the classic Supergirl (3 / 4)

Welcome to the third part of this series presenting sixty fascinating facts to celebrate the sixty years since the debut of the classic Supergirl in DC Comics. Ahead are another fun-filled fifteen snippets of trivia about the original intrepid Argo City teen who leapt from that crumpled Midvale rocket ship. Covering her original Silver and Bronze Age incarnation, in comics and on screen, each factoid is calculated to intrigue and delight – hopefully even seasoned Kara fans will find a few morsels of trivia that had previously escaped their attention.

Enjoy...

31. You can actually visit, in real life, the building where she once lived.

While Superman has rarely strayed beyond his fictional base of Metropolis, Supergirl’s adventures have seen her relocate far-and-wide many times. Some of her homes have been fictional, like Midvale and Stanhope, while others have been real-life, like San Francisco and Chicago. But shockingly, not only has the Girl of Steel lived in real locations, but she has even inhabited real addresses.

A panel in Daring New Adventures of Supergirl #4 (Feb 1983) exposes Linda Danvers’ home address as 1537 West Fargo Ave, Chicago – surprisingly, this turns out to be a genuine address. A later issue, #7 (May 1983), reveals that Linda’s apartment number is 12A. The building that’s currently at that location doesn’t correspond with the one drawn by Carmine Infantino, but if you happen to be passing you might want to check if one of the occupants is listed a “Ms. L. Danvers”.

32. The first theatrically released Supergirl movie was in 1973, not 1984.

As outlined in factoid #2 there was an abundant supply of superheroine movies in non-English speaking markets before Helen Slater’s Supergirl. Indeed so incredibly popular are superpowered females in some corners of the globe that, amazingly, there was even an unofficial Girl or Steel movie over a decade before the authorised Salkind-produced one. The film in question starred Pinky Montilla in the main role and was entitled simply Supergirl. Released on 23rd September 1973 into the Filipino market, the movie featured the Maid of Might’s early 70s costume but changed her origin story. Pinky would also play Bat Girl in 1973′s Fight! Batman, Fight! – and we can assume that the producers probably didn’t ask DC for permission to use the Dominoed Daredoll either.

33. She hated her time in Midvale Orphanage.

The Silver Age always presented Kara’s adventures with a naive sense of wonder and amazement; rarely did it seriously address the pain she must have felt at leaving her parents behind to die in Argo City. But comics changed a lot in the two decades after Kara was introduced, and by the time Supergirl’s origin was retold in Daring New Adventures of Supergirl #1(Nov 1982) a very different spin was put on things. As Kara travels to begin a new life in Chicago, she reflects back on her tragic beginnings as a superhero, including the painful loss of her parents and her feelings of starting over in Midvale: “I was a real stranger in a very strange land! With nowhere else to go, Superman had no choice but to place me in Midvale Orphanage under the name Linda Lee.”, she recalls, before concluding solemnly, “I hated it!”

34. She was a reluctant hero, often feeling out of place on Earth.

One theme that reoccurred during the Bronze Age adventures of Supergirl is how Kara felt at odds with her career as a superhero, and out-of-place on Earth. A story in Superman Family #168 (Dec 1974) demonstrates this more than most, as it brings together three troubled women with extraordinary powers. Supergirl joins her friend Lena Luthor (who has ESP) in an attempt to help Jan Thurston (who has telepathy) come to terms with her unusual powers.

After rescuing a suicidal Jan, Supergirl wins her trust by recounting her own sad journey from Argo City to Earth, explaining that at first she enjoyed the novelty of her superpowers, but quickly came to see them as a barrier. “I’m the mightiest girl on Earth -- and the loneliest!”, she laments, “There’s not a guy on the planet who can keep up with me... Not a single girl can get close enough to be my friend! Sometimes I think I’d much rather have stayed on Argo City!” But Kara goes on to outline how she overcame those feelings: “People like us aren’t different!”, she explains, “We’re just... special!”

35. She planned to start a family, until Kal-El intervened.

In the Bronze Age, DC writers clearly felt free to explore introspective ideas with Kara that likely weren’t possible with her famous cousin. One short story, tucked in the back of Superman Vol. 1 #282 (Dec 1974), demonstrated this more than any other. Kal-El travels to Florida, Kara’s then home, to confront her about suggestions that she may give up her superhero career. “This life of a super-heroine takes up too much of my time... Sets me apart from everyone else!”, she explains. “I want an ordinary life -- with a husband and children some day... Free to do what I choose!”

Naturally her straight-laced cousin isn’t too keen on this idea. He spins Kara a yarn from ancient Krypton folklore, the moral of the story being that she should be careful what she wishes for. “So you see, Kara”, he explains, “sometimes, when we get the things we think we want most... they turn out to be a curse rather than a blessing!” In light of this, Kara reconsiders her plans.

36. Wonder Woman designed one of her costumes.

As most fans know one of the few weaknesses the Man and Girl or Steel share is a vulnerability to magic; so when Adventure Comics #397 (Sep 1970) saw Kara go up against a powerful black magic cult, it was perhaps no surprised to find her badly beaten and her costume shredded. Luckily Wonder Woman was in her mod Emma Peel phase at the time, posing (in-between bouts of super heroics) as the owner of a fashion boutique. Reaching into the racks of clothes at her shop, Diana produces a completely redesigned Supergirl outfit befitting the fashions of the period, which Kara eagerly adopts. (Readers were left wondering whether Diana had redesigns of other hero costumes at the ready, or was Supergirl a special case?)

37. Her mom(s) designed two of her costumes.

Every Supergirl fan knows that Kara’s original costume was designed by her mother, Alura, so that the teenager would be recognised immediately by the Man of Steel when she arrived on Earth. But few may remember that her mid-80s costume, the headband affair she wore going into Crisis on Infinite Earths, was also designed by her mother -- her other mother. Kara’s 80s costume was design by Edna Danvers, her adopted mother on Earth, who (it seemed) was in the habit of whiling away the long dark evenings in Midvale by sketching possible costume designs for her superhero daughter.

38. She’s a fan of recycling her clothes.

The Maid of Might has had many costumes over the years -- or rather, she’s had one costume that she’s recycled over and over since the early 70s. In Adventure Comics #407 (June 1971) a new invulnerable costume was given to Kara by the folks in the Bottle City of Kandor after her original Argo City outfit had been destroyed some months before. A dedicated follower of fashion, over the coming months Kara went through a succession of wild and wacky outfits, some lasting only one issue, before finally settling on her famous hot pants attire for the majority of the 1970s. One might have assumed that somewhere in the Fortress of Solitude there was a wardrobe packed full of retired red and blue super-duds, but Supergirl Vol. 2 #13 (Nov 1983) revealed Kara’s secret -- when it comes time to upgrade her outfit, Kara unravels her old costume at super-speed and and re-weaves the resulting ball of thread into the new design.

39. Demi Moore was the director’s first choice to play Lucy Lane in the Supergirl movie.

The casting net for the title role in 1984′s Supergirl was spread far-and-wide. Director Jeannot Szwarc asked casting agent Lynn Stalmaster to search the whole globe for candidates who could not only act, but withstand the physically and mentally pressure of training for the demanding stunts and wire work. One candidate, apparently, was Demi Moore, who didn’t get the Girl of Steel role but was considered perfect for Kara’s best friend, Lucy Lane. Director Jeannot Szwarc recalled in a 1999 interview, “I met tons of girls. I remember one of the girls was Demi Moore. She was very young and had a great voice. I wanted to use her for the room mate.” But it seems fate had other plans for Ms Moore, as Szwarc explained, “She would have been [perfect], but she was going to Brazil to do a movie with Michael Caine.“ (Moore played Caine’s daughter in Stanley Donen’s rom-com, Blame It on Rio.)

40. One of her rarest appearances is from 1981, only a couple of pages long, but sells for $75+.

If there was a competition to find the rarest publication with an original Supergirl story, Danger on Parade / Le Danger Guette would surely be hot favourite for top place. This tiny comic, just eighteen panels long, was given away inside packets of breakfast cereals in Canada. It features an abbreviated adventure pitting Supergirl against Winslow Schott, aka the Toyman, in the pair’s only pre-Crisis encounter. Runner-up in the rarity stakes would likely go to the Super A and Super B booklet sets produced by Warner Books in 1977 for use in classrooms. The sets didn’t feature original stories however, but reprints with simplified speech balloons designed to teach reading skills.

41. She first met Kal-El years before she landed on Earth.

Gimmick story lines were the order of the day for Silver Age DC, and what better way to create an attention-grabbing dime-baiting cover than to arrange a bizarre crossover -- such was the case with Action Comics #358 (Jan 1968), which saw a very youthful Kara Zor-El in Argo City meet Superboy. The story is predictable fare: in deep space Superboy is scooped-up by one of Zor-El’s science probes, which brings him back to Argo City. Naturally Kara is the first one to discover the probe’s accidental passenger, and (naturally!) Kal-El has suffered memory loss that blots out his life on Earth. Kal and Kara become firm friends over the coming days, until (naturally!) the plot contrives to wipe her memory of him, and restore his memory of Earth.

42. Lena Luthor was the only friend who knew her secret identity.

In the 2015 Supergirl tv show, famously, everyone seems to know (or have known at some point) Supergirl’s secret identity... except Lena Luthor. Bronze Age DC Comics, however, were very very different: Lena first met Kara in Action Comics #295 (Dec 1962), using the name Lena Thorul to hide her connections to brother Lex. Instantly she became firm friends with both Supergirl and Linda Danvers, requiring Kara to work extra hard to stop Lena from realising they are one in the same. The deception finally ended in Superman Family #211 (Oct 1981) when Lena confessed to Kara that she’d worked out her dual identity. This made Lena the only ever friend of Linda Danvers who shared her secret. Sadly it didn’t last long, as by Superman Family #214 (Jan 1982) Lena had suffered a cerebral hemorrhage which affected her memory.

43. She didn’t put the “Kara” into Karaoke.

Over the years Supergirl has exhibited some remarkable super skills, including super ventriloquism, incredible memory, and even the ability to read minds, but one skill that she seemingly lacks is any kind of musical aptitude. Despite the modern day tv Supergirl claiming to put the Kara into Karaoke, her comic strip counterpart didn’t ever appear to sing (not even in the shower!) What’s more, as she confesses in the pages of Adventure Comics #409 (Aug 1971), she doesn’t play any musical instruments either.

44. She’s was no stranger to tragedy even before she left Argo City.

Very few Silver or Bronze Age stories dealt with Kara’s life in Argo City, but one story that gave some idea of how she filled her time appeared in the pages of Action Comics #371 (Jan 1969), when a very young Kara is shown witnessing the cruel death of her best friend, Morina. The pair are innocently playing the game Zoomron, involving the throwing a Frisbee-like disc (the Zoomron) at a target. Chasing an erratic disc Morina tumbles into a crevice filled with Kryptonite, and a tearful Kara can only stand and watch as her friend succumbed to the deadly rays.

45. The Supergirl movie was almost entirely filmed in the UK.

Most fans know that Superman I and II owe a lot to Pinewood Studios in Buckinghamshire, northwest of London, so it is no surprise that 1984′s Supergirl returned to use the same studio complex. But while Superman complimented its studio shots with exteriors filmed in New York (Metropolis) and Alberta, Canada (Smallville), Supergirl’s production stayed firmly within the UK. Locations included the banks of Loch Moidart on the west coast of highland Scotland, the Royal Masonic School for Girls in Hertfordshire, and Black Park Lake near the Pinewood soundstage in Buckinghamshire. Shockingly, even downtown Midvale was actually a huge sprawl of street facades constructed as a backlot set at Pinewood -- the 22 days it took to shoot the tractor rescue sequence was allegedly due to the notoriously fickle British weather.

That’s all for part three. The final part, with even more extra-juicy Kara Zor-El trivia, will be available soon.

#supergirl #superhero #comics #dc #dccomics #superheroine #karazorel #kara zorel #silver age #bronze age #superman #luthor

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emrystheblue · 5 years

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Harry Potter and the Cursed Plotholes

So, obviously there will be spoilers for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child in this post/rant. If you have no wish to be spoiled, stop reading now and scroll away.

First off I would like to preface by saying that I've seen the play twice now so I have a pretty good idea of what happens in it. Once in London (2017) and again in Melbourne a couple weeks ago (2019), and though I own the script I haven't read yet. However I have read this lovely version of it. They took the script and wrote it as a novel without removing any of the original script and incorporating somethings in to connect the scenes ad plausibly as possible. Go read it, it's great. https://archiveofourown.org/works/7666957

Anyway, I like the play. It's fun to watch and the music and sound effects and such are amazing. Scorpius is the best and I adore him. That isn't to say I don't have major problems with the story itself. We all know there are many many many plot holes and that Rowling didn't write it herself, but she does consider it canon to the series which is annoying because it breaks rules set in the previous Harry Potter books. I have a few points I have the most issues with.

I dedicate this rant to @onehealer to whom I ranted with about this for an hour through DM's.

So firstly: Fidelius charm who?

In the final act, Scorpius and Albus can see the potters house even though it's under the fidelius charm. They've never been there before, Harry tried multple times to take Ablus it seems but was turned down, and only read about it in books at most.... does that count as them knowing the Secret? No, it doesn't otherwise people who knew the address of the home before the charm was cast they would know. It can be excused that Delphi technically was never shown to have known where the house was, only knowing they were in Godrics Hollow... which also goes with the fact that knowing the address in the future meant nothing. Imagine Voldemort pulling out a phone book to find their address and suddenly being able to see their home. It also seemed like she didn't want to go after the Potters herself, she was only there to get to Voldemort first. So that's fine.

The issue is that somehow the two boys were able to see through the charm. And going with this vein, how did Ron, Hermione and Draco see as well? Literally only Harry should be able to see the Potter home because he was part of what the charm was protecting and thus knew the Secret, even if he was only a baby at the time.

Time travel should not negate the charm, why would that work? The charm is still active in the time they currently exist in, and this is an ancient, powerful and complex spell too.

"Maybe they knew because Harry told Albus about it." Sure, that could have worked, but it doesn't. When the Secret Keeper dies, anyone who was told the Secret becomes a Secret Keeper (Because you can originally choose more than one), so when Peter Pettigrew died, at the very least Harry would have the Secret. Probably Dumbledore and Sirius too, at least. But the problem with that is that the Fidelius charm was broken the night Lily and James Potter died, thus there was no longer a Secret. How else would the location become common knowledge in the Wizarding World? There's a monument to the Potters for crying out loud. People visited to pay their respects to them. So, Albus was never told the Secret because there wasn't one any longer.

There's literally no way anyone but Harry should have been able to see the Potter home. Even giving it some rope, they shouldn't have been able to see the house until Harry points it out to them, aka tells them where it is, because it could be argued that he could technically give out the Secret, having been part of it originally, but even then he wasn't a Secret Keeper and from how I understand it, just because you knew the secret didn't give you the ability to tell anyone unless you're a Secret Keeper.

The worst part about this plot hole is that not only is it massive, the plot of the story relies on it's existence to progress. Sometimes plot holes can be forgiven, but when the story relies on their existence? Especially such an enormous one? No, just no.

(As a little aside, I just want to bring attention to the fact Scorpius and Albus somehow made their way from Hogwarts, in the Scottish Highlands, to Godrics Hollow in less than a day. That's a long way, not to mention they had no wands, no food, no money, no sleep, no warm clothes and probably not wanting to risk talking to any wizards for fear if changing the timeline or accidently finding a Death Eater. There's also the fact Scorpius had just been Crucio'd at least 3 times in the last hour. Kudos to Scorpius for managing to get there with Albus, hot damn.)

Second, Wtf Albus?

Seriously, wtf. Don't get me wrong, I do like Albus but he's definitely a spoiled/ungrateful little brat at times, with as Scorpius puts it, a chip on his shoulder.

The thing I, well I wont say hate because i do like his character but it's close enough, most about him is his decision to go back and save Cedric in the first place. Like its a nice thought, but dude, why?

Why does Cedric deserve to live more than literally anyone else Voldenort killed? What makes him more deserving of you risking everything to go back and save?

Why does a 17yr old who signed up for a tournament that is known to have resulted in the deaths of its competitors many times in it's history, deserve to live more than all those 11-17 year olds killed at Hogwarts trying to flee or fight? All the adults who fought and died in the battle? All those people killed during either war? A lot of people who died because of Voldemort didn't sign up to put themselves in danger.

If it's about some semblance of a connection, of which there really isn't any in this case, what about Fred? Your uncle? Someone your uncle George probably still dies inside over? I mean he even gave up their joke shop to Ron, possibly to avoid memories of the twin brother who died?

Why does some kid you have no connection to other than his dad blaming yours for killing him when he literally had no way of knowing what the fuck was going on until he was already dead?? Why does he deserve to live more? I don't get it.

And then he blames Harry for Cedric's death like he had any chance to prevent it? Dude, seriously, he was the SAME AGE as you are now when this happened, I'd fucking like to see you do better??

Another thing I dislike is that Albus is never really able to experience the consequences of his actions and what could have happened. Because, you know, he stopped existing and Scorpius had to deal with it on his own.

There's also the way he treats Harry but I'll get to that in a sec.

Harry was doing his best, honestly he was. He sometimes seems a little out of character, but even still. I understand why he could be seen that way. We know he's under a lot of stress from his work at the Ministry, especially since it's to do with creatures that sided with Voldemort that are going missing or whatever. Then there's the nightmares involving Voldy and his scar hurting again after years of nothing. Stress, lots and lots of stress.

Then there's Albus. Harry has trouble understanding his son, he's not easy like James and Lily. Which is fine. But the problem is that Harry tries his best to reach Albus but he's never met halfway.

Albus seen my to refuse to believe anything but hero propaganda about Harry and his life at Hogwarts, and seems to have ignored literally anyone in his adult family who says differently. He doesn't seem to grasp to suffering and trauma that Harry has and grew up with, and scoffs in the face of it. Harry isn't perfect, but he's a good dad trying his best with a child who is frankly quite ungrateful.

Albus was being a little fucking spoiled brat to Harry and the poor dude was probably at his wits end with the one kid of his he didn't truly understand and who went out of his way to hate on everything Harry did and went through in his life. Like I said, Harry was under lots of stress from his job and so of course he would snap, anyone would, and say something they regret when provoked. Especially when you're trying your best to connect with your kid, even if it's not going great it's still an effort to do so, and then your kid just out and out says he wishes he wasn't your son? I think a lot of people would retort with something similarly hurtful. Harry immediately regrets it but both parties have been hurt so Albus storms off.

It's very annoying that everyone else in the play seems to be blaming Harry for Albus hating being his son and running off / running off to do something stupid. He was very obviously doing his best even though Albus was giving him nothing to work with. And for some strange reason people seemed to think Harry was in any way popular in 4th year? Like seriously people, where the fuck did that idea come from? Everyone hated Harry in his 4th year lol. Albus must be getting his info from a source as credible as Rita Skeeter if that's the case, that or every character magically, ha, forgot what really happened.

I also get annoyed at how they deal with the first alternate timeline. The first time they mess with time, Hermione and Ron never get married, Ron marries and has a son with Padma Patil and Albus ends up in Gryffindor. Harry proceeds to force a separation between the two boys for Albus safety, having been told there was a "black cloud" around his son. Of course the only person Albus hangs out with is Scorpius, and assuming events happened the same they had just jumped off the Hogwarts Express and gone missing for a bit, and assuming they had the same argument where they both say they wish they weren't the father/son of the other person, then it makes some sense what Harry does. Also, it's an alternate timeline.

But Scorpius tells Albus none of the events in Harry's life changed, so it seems like their meddling didn't change him. At all. I'm sorry, what the actual fuck? Scorpius I love you but no.

Just because the events stayed the same doesn't mean Harry personally wasn't changed in many small ways. There are people and life changing events erased from his experiences. His two best friends never got married and had kids, because Ron never got jelous over Hermione being Krums Yule Ball date. You trying to tell me that Ron and Hermione becoming different people with entirely different personalities didn't have any effect on Harry what so ever??? Bullshit. Like this was a direct and very significant change in his personal timeline and history, I refuse to believe this didn't change him. Hell, he might not even enjoy his job. Hermione isn't Minster for Magic so who knows whether the Ministry was properly freed of corruption and what polices and changes no longer exist, and what new ones might. So many little things that build up and shape someone's personal experiences and shape their personality.

I don't remember if it was ever directly addressed, but I think it was mentioned at the end of the play, but it says/implies(?) that Harry would have separated them and launched an investigation into Scorpius' parentage in the original timeline as well as the alternate one? I don't know if I believe that, and it's unclear if certain things still happened for everyone other than the boys because the changes the boys made were prevented later on when Scorpius is in the alternate universe where Harry was killed.

Another small aside, thank fuck for Scorpius. When he snapped and said something along the lines of "Oh poor little Albus Potter with his chip on his shoulder. At least your dad will always be your dad, mine won't be because everyone wants to tell me it's Voldemort. They want to tell me my poor sweet dead mother was such a monster to have a kid with him." Like damn someone really needed to tell Albus to stop whining about how apparently horrible and selfish his dad is.

Lastly, how the Time Turners function. Yes, I get these are new and one of a kind Time Turners designed and created outside Ministry regulation and designed to go back years at a time. However, it was originally established that time travel in this world with them works as a closed loop. They travel back in time because they already did. Harry survived the Dementors because he cast a patronus charm, and then went back in time to cast that charm because he already did, and if he hadn't he wouldn't have survived to go back in the first place. Closed loops.

In this however, they did actually do things that never happened. They probably even changed how Ron and Hermione got together, because it's unclear if they also prevented Albus casting the fireworks into the air above the second task declaring "Ron loves Hermione".

The only benefit of this fuckery with how Time Turners work is that it would then make sense why time travel fucks everything up so much it creates alternate timelines and alternate universes. It's still annoying that they casually fucked with how it's supposed to work but it's not as big an issue as the Fidelius charm thing. Also why did Hermione of all people keep the fucking thing??? Like I understand to an extent but seriously, and then to have such lax security on it? For fucks sake, don't you remember being 11 and getting past all the security put on the philosophers stone??!?! You might as well have put the time Turner in wrapping paper in comparison, because at least those ones had the potential to seriously maim or kill you.

Scorpius was a great character, I adore him and he was actually really well written. He's the sweetest thing and needs all the hugs. His relationship with his dad (Draco) is also amazing and a well written dysfunction of different personalities and effects of grief, but Draco loves his son no matter what and constantly tries his best. Despite my rant, I also like Albus and I adore their friendship and their dynamic. I don't mind character flaws, but sometimes they do get over the top and annoying like they did with Albus for a while there, mostly because of the way it influenced the plot.

I dont know, I probably missed shit I wanted to say and maybe got a little harsh sometimes but eh, it's a rant for a reason lol. I love the play, but once I start thinking about things that's when it goes a lot downhill from there haha.

Also Scorpius is amazing and I adore him. :)

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