#lol no

[sandersstudies]

Every 21st century piece of writing advice: Make us CARE about the character from page 1! Make us empathize with them! Make them interesting and different but still relatable and likable!

Every piece of classic literature: Hi. It's me. The bland everyman whose only purpose is to tell you this story. I have no actual personality. Here's the story of the time I encountered the worst people I ever met in my life. But first, ten pages of description about the place in which I met them.

[kota9282]

[nanomooselet]

On Narrators

You know what, fuck it.

I've seen a lot of references to Trigun Stampede having an unreliable narrator, and unfortunately it's activated my media analyst trap card. While there's always a degree of interpretation to these things, there is a difference between interpretation and declaring a banana skin to be orange zest. It makes a difference, especially if you're trying to bake a cake.

That isn't at all what Trigun Stampede is doing. Among other things, it doesn't have a narrator.

Narration, loosely defined, is text (or spoken lines etc) that directly addresses an assumed audience, which may or may not be the actual audience (it depends on the needs of the story). Think voice-overs, think Kuzco in The Emperor's New Groove, think the text panels in a comic or manga that list time and location, or describe the situation. The song of humanity continues to be sung is narration. A narrator is the character who performs narration; sometimes from with the story, sometimes from a position adjacent to it.

Honestly one of the most interesting things about Stampede, in my opinion, is that it makes a point of having neither.

There's no framing device, no presenter, no announcer, no chorus, no soliloquy, not even an internal monologue. There's no direct line to the writers, giving away their intentions. Indeed, the imposition of any text at all is almost entirely absent, save some pointed timing on the title cards, and no character's voice is objective. Zazie or Roberto, who come the closest, can definitely still be wrong - Roberto says Vash is "not long for this world" when Vash is longer for the world than almost anyone else; the man he says would kill with a smile was in fact coerced into becoming a killer. Zazie knows much and is always truthful, but isn't all-knowing, nor operating with complete understanding. And on the other end of the scale you have characters like Dr. Conrad or Knives, where the easiest way to tell they're mistaken or lying is if their mouths are moving. (Outside of brain fuckery. Then you're on your own.) Then there's Vash, who doesn't lie, necessarily, so much as he doesn't volunteer the truth, and tends to dodge giving answers when asked outright.

Now, an unreliable narrator is metafictional, taking advantage of the narrator being a character, and therefore capable of having an agenda.

What makes them unreliable is that they exert motivated influence over what we see - even accidental influence like distorted recollection or misconception. But before declaring such influence is occurring, we need a solid reason to doubt. You don't dismiss an account as unreliable just because it doesn't line up with your own expectations or desires - not without something like a clear contradiction, perhaps, or some conspicuous omission. *

We simply have no reason to believe what we see in Trigun Stampede is anything other than the truth (inasmuch as it's obviously fictional of course). We see some events from multiple viewpoints - here is what Vash experienced, here is what Knives saw, here is what other characters are doing - and what one character sees isn't different from what any other character sees when the perspectives swap. It's just from different distances and angles. The same words are said, the same events play out, and the same reactions are demonstrated by the characters, according to their established values and motivations.

The narrative itself is unadorned and unchanged by their viewpoints. Whether a character is being truthful is simply a judgement you're given to make as the events that occur and their actions reveal more about them.

The term for this isn't narration; it's focalisation, and it's hardly some avant-garde artistic statement. It's intrinsic to telling even the most simple story.

For instance, the way Knives evolves from his initial presentation. His introduction as an adult is as a wrathful would-be god and a merciless killer before his more nuanced motivations and origins are slowly revealed. It would have been different if he'd been introduced first, discovered Tesla and was then depicted destroying Jeneora Rock. He'd come across as more of a protagonist. Instead, because the central character is Vash, we see him first, the humanising struggles of Jeneora Rock's people and Vash's efforts to help them, his anguish when it's rendered moot, and all the ways he suffers as a result of Knives's actions. This is focalisation that makes Knives the antagonist, representing what Vash must overcome. A complex, compelling and perhaps tragic antagonist, but still - not the guy the story is about.

Oh, and that has nothing to do with their respective moral positions, good or evil. It's structural. A protagonist attempts to achieve while an antagonist obstructs, and both by nature will transgress.

Stampede isn't exactly free of ways to manipulate sympathy, and exerts strict control over the perspectives it presents. You could argue it misdirects, or lies by omission - but that's not the same as an unreliable narrator. A narrative is always going to impose some kind of order on events to produce a specific effect, and that does come with bias. But it's the nature of storytelling never to be entirely objective.

I'm not sure that I really have a point, honestly, except that Trigun Stampede is a show that's exceedingly careful to show the characters exactly as they are. It doesn't lie. Personally, I find that more interesting to contemplate than the alternative. We have everything we need to know why the characters do as they do. Certainly far more than some would rather have us know.

* There are two times I think something like this is happening. One is Wolfwood's flashbacks to the orphanage, which are coloured as memories of the softness the Eye ripped away from him. Hence the different art style, and the title of the episode they occur in: once upon a time. It's a fairy tale, more emotionally true than literal to highlight the harshness of his life since then by contrast. There's likely more to that story than Wolfwood is recalling at that moment.

The other, big surprise, is within the memory world. It has manipulative editing, clips taken out of context, video noise, ADR, everything. All you'd need to make it more obvious it can't be trusted is a disclaimer in the corner or inconsistent timestamps or something.

[x49z]

I am having too much fun making these I might just quit art

[idk-anymore-mydudes]

"Coward!"

Merlin felt more than heard his own breath stutter. The ground before him seemed to stutter with it.

He stepped forward anyway.

"Face me!"

The ground blurred more, swathed in rain drops that did not fall in Avalon.

Nor on the pathway out of it.

The unsettled magic crackled along Merlin's skin, dragging like Ealdor's burrs, dried crisp in the fall.

Avalon clawed at Arthur, but Merlin, as always, knew there was no better shield than himself.

Merlin forced a breath and another step forward.

"So much for bravery and honor."

A bitter laugh from behind him.

"Just another hypocrite and liar."

The otherworldly tethers snapped and scraped against his body, Avalon's appetite for Arthur turned on Merlin instead.

Avalon cannot take an immortal life.

Find your king and shield him.

Return, but rest assured, should your eyes turn to him, then Avalon's shall as well, and it shall hide his soul where you will not find it.

"You-you, coward!"

One chance, young warlock.

Merlin closed his eyes entirely. He did not need sight to lead Arthur away from Avalon's grasp. He shuddered as the otherworld's magic skittered with barbed hooks across Merlin's own.

A huff now, and Merlin wished how Merlin wished that he could just- just fix it. Make it so Arthur had never died, so Merlin had never lied.

Merlin had no doubt he would die for Arthur in any universe, even in the universes where Arthur had known him completely, and in the ones where Arthur hadn't known him at all. Any of those would have been better for Arthur, better than meeting the shade of a person Arthur now knew Merlin to be.

But Merlin had only this universe, this one and the shitty, shaky premise that Merlin could drag his king out of Avalon and then rest in his hatred forever.

"You can't face me."

Merlin stumbled.

Avalon dug into his back.

His breath caught. He lurched upward and forward.

"Merlin!"

Merlin tightened his jaw, like Arthur, the masochist in him said.

He briefly thought of explaining, of begging for Arthur to trust him one final time, of turning to him and-

and that was exactly why he couldn't.

"No place for magic in Camelot indeed."

Arthur's words scorched. Every step away burned as the pyre.

Nothing Merlin hadn't been through before.

Merlin didn't actually know why Arthur was still following him to be honest. He just hoped Arthur didn't stop.

"Were you ever planning on telling me?"

Merlin itched to cover his ears and hum, like Arthur had done once to him one particularly wine-filled, loose-lipped evening. His hands even twitched with the desire, but if he could not hear Arthur's hatred, then he would not hear Arthur at all, and that he could bear even less.

Avalon's pull was lessening, its weakening magic lashing all the more fiercely for it. Merlin clenched his hands, himself the only solid ground in the transient in-between.

Merlin heard a whimper and, for a moment, didn't believe it came from himself. Avalon's tendrils clung, tight as nooses, around his limbs. He almost raised an arm to pry them off.

"Merlin?"

His voice had grown closer.

Arthur had come closer.

The tendrils started breaking away, one at a time, and Merlin felt each one snap. His own magic buzzed and swarmed ever more greatly, eager to wash away the lingering traces of the otherworld. On instinct, on habit, it stretched behind him - to Arthur, as always.

Then Merlin remembered Avalon felt his magic as surely as he did its. He yanked his magic back, drawing it up into himself before it brought Arthur to Avalon's attention.

"Merlin."

The last tether to the otherworld snapped, and Merlin-

Merlin lurched forward again.

And again.

And then one more time, just to be safe. He could no longer feel Avalon, he couldn't, but he felt as though its presence was still bearing down upon him.

The darkness spun. His knees slammed into smooth, unbroken stones. The shore.

He brought his hands to his face. His knuckles rubbed against his shut eyes, and he could hear the waves. He could hear the waves.

They had left Avalon.

He couldn't hear Arthur, not over his own shuddering breaths. The rocks pressed against his knees, worse than castle stone. They had left Avalon, so Arthur was behind him. Arthur was behind him, and they had left Avalon.

Merlin still couldn't turn around.

If he didn't turn around, then Merlin would not have to see the disgust in his eyes.

A hand on his shoulder.

"Merlin."

The hand curled, an anchor that pulled back, and Merlin found himself leaning towards it - and hating the action.

Arthur wanted answers though, and it was the least Merlin could give.

Another shuddering breath, a steadying breath, Merlin told himself. He sat back on his heels more, though he had not realized until that moment that he was sitting at all. He lowered his hands. His eyes stayed shut.

"You are free of Avalon." His voice rasped as roughened parchment and sand. "You will not return there until you die again."

The hand on his shoulder tightened.

"And you?" Arthur's voice was clear. Clear and angry. "Are you to leave Avalon as well?"

Something in Merlin shriveled, curling in on itself. Merlin hunched his shoulders inward, downward, as much as he could with the hand still gripping his shoulder.

"Yes." His tongue was heavy in his mouth. "Your safety would have been assured, but they would not take a trade."

Arthur's grip was strong enough to bruise.

"You were going to give your life for mine."

"Yes." Merlin lowered his head more. "They would not take it.

"I'm sorry."

Arthur dropped to the ground. He wrapped his other arm below Merlin's, across his chest, and Merlin-Merlin could not help but think that this was almost precisely how he had held Arthur less than a day, an eternity ago.

"Y-you . . ." Arthur's voice shook.

"Coward. I know." Merlin choked out the words. Then he was gasping. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Arthur, I'm so sorry. Arthur . . ."

Arthur pressed closer, his arms cinching Merlin in the way Avalon could not. "Stop. Stop!"

Merlin shut his mouth so fast his teeth clacked.

"Did I ask you to give up your life?"

Merlin's response was automatic. "You don't have to ask."

Arthur shifted his arms, settling them more firmly across Merlin's body and marginally more tightly.

"Well, don't. You don't trade your life for mine. Not now, not ever."

"It wouldn't have effected you," Merlin only half heard his own voice speaking. "My life still would have worked. Like anyone else's."

Arthur was alive and right there. Arthur was right there.

"It . . . wouldn't have effected me?"

Merlin twitched in the facsimile of shaking his head.

"In what universe," Arthur hissed in his ear, "does your death not effect me?"

Merlin did flinch this time and felt Arthur's response of tightening his hold yet again. Arthur still did not know, then, that Merlin could never run from him.

It had taken everything just to walk away and that was when he knew he'd see- that Arthur would be there at the end.

"I'm sorry." Merlin tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. "I swear I asked them to take my life for yours."

Arthur grunted. "You thick-headed idiot. I'm saying you shouldn't have even tried to trade your life for mine."

"Your life is worth ten of mine, and I needed to bring you back, Arthur."

Arthur's huff lifted the hair around Merlin's.

Gods. He was so alive.

"We'll return to that first remark later, but Camelot was strong when I died. Guinevere is a good queen. She has many good advisors and" - Arthur shook Merlin once - "she was supposed to have you."

Merlin struggled to find words. "What about . . . an heir? You needed an heir."

Arthur rested his forehead on the side of Merlin's own. "Morgause said a life for a life."

Merlin's breath caught.

"I do not think more time will make a difference," Arthur finished quietly.

"Oh, Arthur." Merlin reached up and clasped Arthur's hands.

"You don't get to trade your life for mine, too. Do you hear me? That's an order, Merlin." Another shake.

Merlin shifted, feeling Arthur move with him. "I don't understand."

"That's nothing new."

"I can't- I didn't think- are you going to kill me?"

"No!"

Merlin flinched again. "Then why did you not want me to trade my life for yours?"

Arthur tightened his hold. A disgusted sigh. "You-"

"I know." Merlin didn't know if he could bear to hear the words, however true, again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You clearly don't know." Arthur snapped. Then his hold loosened.

Merlin realized he was shaking.

"Merlin . . ." Arthur pressed his knee against Merlin's side. "Merlin, I want you to live. You should want to live."

"But I'm a sorcerer."

Merlin nearly opened his eyes at the sound Arthur made. He stopped though, and reached with magic instead, searching for whatever remaining injury may have caused Arthur pain.

"Merlin." Arthur's breath was warm against Merlin's skin. Alive. "You're . . . Don't interrupt. I'm not done."

Merlin had not even tried speaking.

"I . . . I told you not to change."

Merlin his head forward, but only slightly. "When you were dying."

Arthur huffed a laugh, and Merlin- Merlin, glutton for punishment, turned towards the sound.

Arthur sighed. "Open your eyes."

Merlin shut them more tightly.

Another huff of laughter from Arthur.

"Merlin. Open your eyes."

Merlin heard his own disbelieving breath.

Arthur shifted, as if he wanted to come closer, but Merlin did not know how closer would be possible. All he could feel was the rocky ground and Arthur.

"I stand by what I said" - Arthur's tone brokered no argument - "and I'm not dying, am I?"

Slowly, Merlin shook his head.

"Then open your eyes."

He couldn't.

Not right away.

He inched his hands along Arthur's till he felt Arthur's wrist. He turned his head until he felt Arthur's shirt. He opened his eyes, but not to look at Arthur, just Arthur's shirt. Arthur had died in armor, but the shirt was his favorite, softened red one that Merlin swore he had to throw away years ago after an injury and blood made it unable to be salvaged.

Merlin saw Arthur's shirt and then- then . . .

"Not so bad, is it?"

"Looking at your ugly mug is."

A bark of laughter and then Arthur was grasping the back of Merlin's head and Arthur was pulling Merlin in closer and Arthur was holding Merlin and Arthur was alive.

He was alive.

They were alive.

And maybe, Merlin thought, just maybe, this universe wasn't the worst one.

Original post

@longlivechips

@achillesuwu

@trainee-trickster

[luckytidbit]

Food for thought.

Ok so I've seen an anonymous ask on someone’s blog recently about people being rude in the unwind community, (which first of all, if you’re being rude, shame on you.) I've seen mention of, actually no I’ll take it verbatim. “I like scrolled by multiple of peoples posts and fics about like theories and stuff, and most of them have people getting mad over them or feeling the need to prove it wrong? Like I get it, but it's just an idea 😭”  This community is pretty small and I haven’t seen any other unwind theory posts lately (Unless this person is talking about ao3, I’m not on there.), so I’m left to assume this ask is about the “Connor’s brain coping after his unwinding theory.” And the reblog I left on it, so let’s break that down shall we?

Personally, I grew up on Film and Game Theory so I’ve never seen debunking a theory as something that’s rude, just a part of a community helping another have the correct facts. Which by the way, @korokeea, if I’ve upset you, I am deeply sorry, it was never my intention to do so. My reblog was supposed to be seen as playful banter. (Side note, dream endings are very amateur, don’t do them unless you know what you’re doing. Even I wouldn’t do them, (I think I’m amateur anyway <:D.))

Also wanted to add that I should be using tone indicators, and that also I’ve seen examples of people whose first language isn’t English not understanding Western satire, so my apologies if I’ve confused you.

Now that I’ve addressed the main point, there was also something else I wanted to bring up.

This is obviously a parody of LIVE SLUG REACTION I used to add to my reblogs of Conland content (Connor x Roland), I also might have confused people doing this. I don’t think Conland is anyone’s cup of tea, personally, I see it as a crack ship that lives rent-free in my head, but I can understand how I could’ve confused someone. I honestly do like A Dog With A Bird At Your Door A Lot, even if the notes say “I hate gay people.” (Like, C’mon now Kuromi.)

Honestly, I came here to create art and not be judged for it, I have one to two irl friends that I see almost daily. The rest of it are just classmates that will turn on me the moment I say something that doesn’t fit their dialogue. (If you get what I’m saying, I have to say the right thing or they’ll look at me funny.) I’m honestly super stressed and pretty prone to anxiety right now, graduation, prom, removal of wisdom teeth via going under (anaesthesia), you name it! So you can see why I find a great sense of escapism in Tumblr.

Lastly, I wanted to say that in this community it is almost impossible to create micro-communities because of our small size. You CANNOT be vague or make inside jokes because almost everyone follows each other. On the original ask post that I first talked about, the responder mentioned a “that one guy” and my poor mutual @bopeisdope thought they could be that one guy. (Which is completely wrong, she and @lazysailor are the sweetest people I have ever met here. Oof sorry side tangent.)

Anyway If you made it through this thing, thanks for letting me get this off my chest.

[noblogsir]

Doodles. Now u know how Jason looks without his hat, your mind can rest finally.

still not the vacation comic but i hope y’all gonna wait patiently some more:P

[thebibliosphere]

I've probably said this before, but I think the Practical Magic franchise is a rare example of where the movie is better than the book.

[bruggle]

In light of a recent meme @absolutely-normal-about-x shared... have this

Plus:

[myymi]

What if Tails falls asleep while reading that page about foxes grooming each other and Sonic comes back to grab something he forgot and reads that when he throws a blanket on the fox. Or something.

aaishdhejdj

maybe sonic stays the night because he knows tails probably hasn't been sleeping well. he never was good at taking care of himself

and while he's tucking in the fox so he'll stay cozy while he sleeps he glances at the computer and he catches smthn about fox grooming... he doesn't read too much to respect his privacy. he assumes that maybe, just maybe, tails is gonna put in the effort to try and take care of some part of him

[onejellyfishplease]

My OC:

Girl is made out of flock of birds

Girl tries to figgier out why her parents didn’t just adopt a child, rather than do what ever the heck they did to make her

Girl also tries to figure out the science off her literally splitting into a flock of birds and being a literal hive mind of birds like what the fuck what kind of magic bullshittery is this

[kota9282]

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

You know, on the last post about Caesar's leniency where I mentioned shit going wrong in the African campaign for reasons he should've seen coming, I was so tempted to add "This would never happen to Marcus Agrippa."

I might be a little bit biased.

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

okay, so I love star wars but I just noticed something and I'm,,, just the tiniest bit angry.

clone wars: *confirms Hardcase has adhd*

clone wars: *kills him off*

bad batch: *confirms Tech is autistic*

bad batch: *kills him off*

[depressed-fanperson]

I will swear it in front of god herself if we don’t get a kiss in season 2 no one shall be spared from my rage.

Edit: FUCK NOT LIKE THAT

[sebaschian]

I still hate canon Claude Faustus. But I love his fanon version where he is actually more caring and fatherly towards Alois.

If Sebastian is Dadbastian/Mombastian how can we call Claude?