DVD Commentary Meme
Aug. 14th, 2012 11:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
branchandrootOh, what the heck. I need to be distracted from pre-term nerves.
Pick any passage of 500 words or less from any story I've written, and comment to this post with that selection. I will then give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what's going on in the character's heads, why I chose certain words, what this moment means in the context of the rest of the fic, lots of awful puns, and anything else that you’d expect to find on a DVD commentary track.
Pick any passage of 500 words or less from any story I've written, and comment to this post with that selection. I will then give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what's going on in the character's heads, why I chose certain words, what this moment means in the context of the rest of the fic, lots of awful puns, and anything else that you’d expect to find on a DVD commentary track.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-15 09:13 am (UTC)* * *
“I should teach you a lesson about teasing, Akaya,” Sanada-san said in his ear, voice deep and rich with amusement and intimacy. “But somehow I doubt it would keep you from playing with fire.”
“Sanada-san,” Akaya breathed, without the coherence to answer further. Sanada-san kissed him, hard.
He was grateful when Sanada-san let him down onto the bed, because he wasn’t sure how long he would stay standing without Sanada-san holding him up. Once he was lying down he could let himself twist and arch into the stroke of Sanada-san’s hands over his stomach, down his legs, without worrying about little things like falling down. He felt like his body had turned to some kind of liquid, waves echoing out from every point of contact.
Sanada-san wrapped Akaya in his arms and rolled over, pulling Akaya to lie on top of him. Akaya blinked down, and then sucked in his breath as Sanada-san’s hands ran down his thighs, spreading his legs wide. He felt Sanada-san bring his own legs up to keep Akaya’s open, and heat touched his cheeks. Sanada-san smiled at him, slight and promising, before he wound a hand into Akaya’s hair and drew him down to a slow kiss. He felt Sanada-san shift under him, heard a faint clatter, and then felt Sanada-san’s other hand, slick and cool, press between his cheeks. He made a startled sound into Sanada-san’s mouth, but that hand didn’t go any further yet, only rubbed against him, massaging.
The touch was gentle and hard, careful and forceful; it was entirely Sanada-san’s touch. Akaya dropped his head down to the curve of Sanada-san’s shoulder, feeling the sliding press of Sanada-san’s hand persuading his muscles to relax and open, feeling his legs splayed apart, lax, feeling both exposed and wantonly pleased by his position. Feeling, at last, two of Sanada-san’s fingers press smoothly into him, and he gasped sharply against Sanada-san’s neck.
“You let me in easily,” Sanada-san murmured to him. “Maybe I will show you what it’s like rough, after all. Another time.”
no subject
Date: 2012-08-15 04:49 pm (UTC)“I should teach you a lesson about teasing, Akaya,” Sanada-san said in his ear, voice deep and rich with amusement and intimacy. “But somehow I doubt it would keep you from playing with fire.”
Okay, this is pure seiyuu porn, really, because... well, Kusunoki Taiten. Voice. Yeah. Beyond that, though, this is Sanada drawing back the upper hand.
“Sanada-san,” Akaya breathed, without the coherence to answer further. Sanada-san kissed him, hard.
And Kirihara letting him, because I'm thoroughly convinced that Kirihara is actually very wedded to senpai-kouhai propriety. He speaks very properly and, acts rather kittenish even with his elders in other schools (see the issue where he falls asleep on the bus and winds up at Seigaku, and how he approaches Tezuka).
He was grateful when Sanada-san let him down onto the bed, because he wasn’t sure how long he would stay standing without Sanada-san holding him up. Once he was lying down he could let himself twist and arch into the stroke of Sanada-san’s hands over his stomach, down his legs, without worrying about little things like falling down. He felt like his body had turned to some kind of liquid, waves echoing out from every point of contact.
I also tend to write Kirihara as very physical and sensual. I don't think he bothers with forethought, a lot, and if you consider his red-eye mode, that's never a deliberate thing; rather, he lets his opponent drive him to a place where he feels enough despair to trigger the violent overdrive response in himself. He's manipulating his own triggers, but he's not pulling them himself. So I wrote him as extremely responsive in all ways, including the physical.
Sanada-san wrapped Akaya in his arms and rolled over, pulling Akaya to lie on top of him. Akaya blinked down, and then sucked in his breath as Sanada-san’s hands ran down his thighs, spreading his legs wide. He felt Sanada-san bring his own legs up to keep Akaya’s open, and heat touched his cheeks. Sanada-san smiled at him, slight and promising, before he wound a hand into Akaya’s hair and drew him down to a slow kiss. He felt Sanada-san shift under him, heard a faint clatter, and then felt Sanada-san’s other hand, slick and cool, press between his cheeks. He made a startled sound into Sanada-san’s mouth, but that hand didn’t go any further yet, only rubbed against him, massaging.
The point here was to show that Sanada, even when he's got his dominant side running, is a careful person, and a careful lover. He knows this is all new to Kirihara, so he's being careful to guide him to a position that will help him relax. I think he also knows perfectly well how much Kirihara relies on his senpai for guidance in general, and is showing this much forcefulness exactly to get Kirihara to relax. This version of Sanada definitely came out as a care-taker.
The touch was gentle and hard, careful and forceful; it was entirely Sanada-san’s touch. Akaya dropped his head down to the curve of Sanada-san’s shoulder, feeling the sliding press of Sanada-san’s hand persuading his muscles to relax and open, feeling his legs splayed apart, lax, feeling both exposed and wantonly pleased by his position. Feeling, at last, two of Sanada-san’s fingers press smoothly into him, and he gasped sharply against Sanada-san’s neck.
But, of course, care-taking isn't all there is to him. Sanada is certainly capable of forethought and strategy, but he's also the "power through" type. And this Kirihara really likes that, likes being a little overpowered, definitely likes being taken care of. It's one of the greatest tensions of his personality, as I see it, that he's so determined to win against his senpai (and so terrified that he can't by any fair means), and at the same time so invested in this dynamic of care-taking and obedience.
“You let me in easily,” Sanada-san murmured to him. “Maybe I will show you what it’s like rough, after all. Another time.”
And Sanada knows, on some level, exactly how Kirihara responds. I don't think it's entirely conscious, not yet, at least in this storyline. But he knows just what to say to really make Kirihara hot. I also theorize that he really enjoys how Kirihara responds, and that it feeds his own sense of what is proper in an arc where he's also engaging in a very deep relationship with Yukimura and Yanagi that moves outside the usual channels of sex and romance. In a lot of ways, I think Kirihara is his security sex-blanket, in this arc.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-15 08:23 pm (UTC)Belial had retired to the window with the best view, feeling satisfied, when black feathered wings swept around hir, blocking any view at all.
Four black wings.
Belial turned, trying not to shiver at the whispering touch of feathers and magic, and looked up at hir lord, barely a breath away. His wings surrounded hir in his power, a feather’s edge from destruction or… what? Lucifer’s face was unreadable.
“I would say to entertain yourself as you like, if pain and humiliation truly amuse you,” he said. “But your deception has gotten thin.”
Belial raised hir brows. “You are the only one who was never deceived, lord,” se pointed out. “One cannot see that this has changed.”
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, and Belial stiffened a little. Had one of the other demons turned their lord’s opinion against hir? Well, se had to amend, turned him against hir in more than the usual way. Was that the reason for the cage of his wings?
“A pose of self-honesty makes a brittle mask.” His voice was cold, colder than it had been since he returned to them, as cold as it had been the very first time they spoke. The tone made Belial relax, even as se puzzled at the words. Hir effort wasn’t much use, as Lucifer’s fingers, brushing back hir disheveled hair, brushed away all hir thoughts. Belial was starting to wonder whether Lucifer was simply amusing himself by toying with hir. He hadn’t used to indulge much in that sort of thing, but…
Grasping for the thread of this strange conversation, Belial murmured, “At the risk of repeating the obvious, one is a demon. Whether we delight in the pain and humiliation of others or are merely indifferent to it, we all bring it.”
“I didn’t speak of others’ pain,” Lucifer told hir, and cupped Belial’s cheek, brushing his thumb over the teardrop under hir eye.
A thin sound of denial forced its way out of Belial’s throat, even as se leaned into the touch, parting hir lips. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. Please, no, not this one. Belial believed in the efficacy of prayer even less than se had before the third war, but se was desperate enough to entreat the memory of their progenitor, dead as Adam Kadmon was, not to let Lucifer desire hir. It would be glorious. It would be the end of Belial’s existence, the end of the only truth se had ever found.
Lucifer sighed, looking faintly exasperated. “A complete and utter fool,” he stated. “I seem to be cursed with them.”
The hold of his wings tightened for a moment before unfolding from around hir. Belial tried to decide, as se watched Lucifer walk away, and felt the many eyes on hir, whether se was comforted or terrified by hir lord’s parting words.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-15 09:46 pm (UTC)Belial had retired to the window with the best view, feeling satisfied, when black feathered wings swept around hir, blocking any view at all.
Four black wings.
Belial turned, trying not to shiver at the whispering touch of feathers and magic, and looked up at hir lord, barely a breath away. His wings surrounded hir in his power, a feather’s edge from destruction or… what? Lucifer’s face was unreadable.
So, first of all, we have pure wing-kink. In this case, it overlaps pretty completely with Belial's kink for Lucifer's power, because Belial really, really gets off on destruction. Not for its own sake, exactly, but because se's convinced that the world is corrupt, and se really, truly loves to see hypocrisy and corruption destroyed. In a way, Belial loves purity, and the only purity se believes exists is the aftermath of destruction.
“I would say to entertain yourself as you like, if pain and humiliation truly amuse you,” he said. “But your deception has gotten thin.”
Belial raised hir brows. “You are the only one who was never deceived, lord,” se pointed out. “One cannot see that this has changed.”
This entire section is one long dialogue at cross-purposes. Lucifer has changed, after canon; he has a much broader range of emotion (not difficult since it used to be pretty much limited to rage and betrayal). Belial doesn't understand how much he's changed, though, and keeps trying to play by their old rules. Here, Lucifer is starting to get annoyed by how Belial keeps embittering hirself, while Belial thinks this is just another round of Lucifer's accustomed cynicism.
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, and Belial stiffened a little. Had one of the other demons turned their lord’s opinion against hir? Well, se had to amend, turned him against hir in more than the usual way. Was that the reason for the cage of his wings?
And when Belial does think it's something different, hir first thought is simply that Lucifer, the one who feels almost nothing but rage, is finally going to turn that rage towards hir.
“A pose of self-honesty makes a brittle mask.” His voice was cold, colder than it had been since he returned to them, as cold as it had been the very first time they spoke. The tone made Belial relax, even as se puzzled at the words. Hir effort wasn’t much use, as Lucifer’s fingers, brushing back hir disheveled hair, brushed away all hir thoughts. Belial was starting to wonder whether Lucifer was simply amusing himself by toying with hir. He hadn’t used to indulge much in that sort of thing, but…
Lucifer is annoyed all right. He's pissed off that Belial is being so dense. He's trying, in his own way, to lead hir in a different direction between the protection of his wings and the little gestures of care, but Belial has no previous frame for those at all and hasn't the tiniest clue how to interpret them. So se's still interpreting them as the gestures of someone completely distanced from care or warmth or trust, someone just like hir who doesn't place any faith in those things and thinks they're only ever masks.
Grasping for the thread of this strange conversation, Belial murmured, “At the risk of repeating the obvious, one is a demon. Whether we delight in the pain and humiliation of others or are merely indifferent to it, we all bring it.”
“I didn’t speak of others’ pain,” Lucifer told hir, and cupped Belial’s cheek, brushing his thumb over the teardrop under hir eye.
A thin sound of denial forced its way out of Belial’s throat, even as se leaned into the touch, parting hir lips. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. Please, no, not this one. Belial believed in the efficacy of prayer even less than se had before the third war, but se was desperate enough to entreat the memory of their progenitor, dead as Adam Kadmon was, not to let Lucifer desire hir. It would be glorious. It would be the end of Belial’s existence, the end of the only truth se had ever found.
And the thing is, Lucifer /knows/ Belial won't trust words alone. He's trying to show hir a different way of thinking with action. But it keeps running right into Belial's past experience and assumptions, which all involve Belial seducing people who proceed to display every imaginable sort of hypocrisy. Se's /terrified/ by the idea of Lucifer going down that road.
Lucifer sighed, looking faintly exasperated. “A complete and utter fool,” he stated. “I seem to be cursed with them.”
Which Lucifer does get.
The hold of his wings tightened for a moment before unfolding from around hir. Belial tried to decide, as se watched Lucifer walk away, and felt the many eyes on hir, whether se was comforted or terrified by hir lord’s parting words.
After this, Lucifer finally does make himself a bit clearer in words, but it takes Belial the whole second half of the story to bring hirself to really understand. "Unyielding" is indeed hir nature.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-15 09:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-15 10:05 pm (UTC)Sebastian was a demon who appreciated artistry, and that was why he liked his current master so much. To be sure, Ciel’s early efforts had been a bit rough. It had taken a year or two before Ciel realized that simple physical feats wouldn’t trouble Sebastian and turned his ingenuity to devising more subtle traps and conundrums.
Because it always seemed to me that Sebastian and Ciel are playing a game with each other, in all those unreasonable demands Ciel makes. The way Sebastian smiles over it, and the way Ciel is always plotting another, really seem to form a significant part of the bond between them.
They were both careful not to overplay their game. These tests and traps should be unpredictable, and Ciel scattered them through the years they’d been together with a charmingly random hand. Every now and then, he dropped one in Sebastian’s way and Sebastian smiled sleekly under the weight of his master’s eyes as he unraveled it.
Or, sometimes, rarely, did not. Those were the best.
And this is the real hook of the story. My theory is that Sebastian really enjoys being bested, in the game. He's a demon, maybe immortal, certainly ancient, and he's to to be /bored out of his mind/ most of the time. So he loves a challenge, and he loves it even more when one of his toys can turn the tables on him.
He was never eager for them; that would be gauche. He was simply watchful. Which was why his senses tingled this morning as he laid out Ciel’s tea. There was a certain promising thoughtfulness in Ciel’s glance that gave him hopes.
"Wait," Ciel told him, as he tucked the tray under his arm and turned to go.
"Yes?" Sebastian turned back, attentive, the perfect servant as always.
Perhaps the show frayed just a fraction as Ciel rose from his chair and strolled to Sebastian’s side, lips curved faintly. But only a fraction.
The thing is, it's /all/ a game, for Sebastian, including keeping up appearances. It's part of the challenge. And this is why he pinged me, for this fic, as pretty intensely submissive. Having someone else make the rules is part of the fun for him.
Ciel leaned forward and murmured in his ear. "This is an order. Until I tell you you can stop… resist my orders."
Sebastian’s eyes widened.
The logic of this one was what really started the fic going. If Sebastian's game is to obey all orders... what about an order /not/ to obey?
Ciel stepped back, watching him with measuring eyes as the binding of their contract tightened. A spell had no mind; it didn’t care whether an order was possible or not. It merely followed its logic, and that logic compelled him to obey the master he was bound to. To obey by resisting, to resist by not resisting, but not to resist was to disobey.
The bindings tightened gradually, a little further for each breath that took no action to fulfill the order he’d been given, until the razor heat of the spell cutting into his very essence made him sway on his feet.
It felt so sweet.
Here we have the next turn of the story, where it becomes clear that Sebastian is enjoying, not just the challenge, but the restraint and a kind of pain. It was the best explanation I came to for why Sebastian would prompt Ciel so explicitly to bind him in the first place and then have such a relatively adversarial relationship with him.
To be caught by the sharpness of his master’s mind, for him to be caught like this! To be compelled and required to obey the will of another was pleasure enough, especially with their endless games of command and insolence to give it spice. To be this utterly helpless, for all his power, in the grip of mortal will and desire, was pure delight. Yes, this trap was very sweet indeed.
Here's where it becomes explicit. Sebastian is always looking for someone who can match his power, not just by virtue of the binding (which seems almost nothing in the scale of a demon's lifespan, the demon has already won when the binding is put in place) but by virtue of Ciel's wits, Ciel's ability to turn the contract that will ultimately mean his defeat against Sebastian.
I think Sebastian has what demons might consider a very refined and sophisticated palate.
The binding tightened, relentless, until he couldn’t move, could only gasp for breath, until his knees gave way and he sank down to the carpet at Ciel’s feet. The thrill of feeling that force across every particle of him built and built as Ciel only watched without making any move to release him, climbing towards the crest.
So Sebastian is one classic type of submissive--he's into this because he has so much power most of the time, and the contrast of being in another's power is the thrill to him.
Just before he lost himself in it, Ciel smiled, slow and sharp. "Enough. You can stop."
Here we have a glimpse of why and how Ciel can really play level with Sebastian, in this game. Ciel has that sense of what is cruelest and the ruthlessness to actually do it. Ciel is not a nice person, a lot of the time. Honorable and possibly even noble at times, but not nice at all.
The pressure vanished, leaving him hanging, and the glint in Ciel’s eyes, the cruel perfection of his timing, struck through Sebastian like lightning. The beauty of his master’s ruthlessness seared into him like the fire of his own realm, completed him, left even him wrung out and trembling.
"Yes," he had to take a second breath to complete it, "my Lord."
"You may go," Ciel told him coolly, and seated himself back at his desk, picking up a letter off today’s correspondence.
Sebastian drew himself up and bowed quite correctly. A smile of secret delight curved his lips as he closed the door behind him.
He had chosen very well indeed, this time.
I admit, I also wrote this because I was getting really tired of stories that posited that Sebastian had all the real power and that Ciel was unstable enough or weak enough or needy enough or whatever to not resist him. I don't buy that. Sebastian seems consistently delighted by Ciel, and I'm convinced that means Ciel is the kind of person a demon would take delight in serving.