#NOT meant as a criticism. quite the opposite really

[tanlorin]

i love tanlorin so much. why are they so horny

[elliesbff]

“i need you.” — abby anderson

hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this second part, i’ve been going through a lot mentally and have just been trying to get my head around things. i genuinely hope this teeters to your satisfaction ♡ thank you for all the likes on pt 1 !

summary: after tending to neglected needs, it takes 5 words to turn the tables. notes: nsfw, scissoring, oral sex, (r!receiving) fingering, (r! receiving) slight dacryphilia, a bit of hair pulling, softdom!abby, sub!reader. wc: 2,793 | tags: none

read pt 1 of " i need you " here!

moments prior,

abby’s braid slid graciously past her shoulder as she pulled away from your short lived embraced, already missing the warmth of her sun kissed skin. it seemed like she was in a hurry, scurrying out of the gym in the blink of an eye. as you took a moment to gather yourself, you realised that she’d left her bottle behind, and her bench remained uncleaned. you stood there dumbfounded, what could she have planned that was more important than gymnasium hygiene? after all, it was her that taught all you know.

when you were nothing but a baby wolf, abby took notice of you as a new recruit and instantly saw potential in you, taking you under her wing and training you like hell to fulfil your true abilities. although you were nowhere near as burly or as experienced in combat as her, you were quite good with weaponry and crafting, as well as adapting to your surroundings, making do with what you had on you during critical times.

she calls you ‘the scavenger’ when you were not present. it was her unique way of honouring how far you’d come since joining the WLF, how she paved the way for the indestructible soldier she firmly believes you’ll grow up to be one day. it’s also just her adorable little nickname for you that she beckons nobody uses in her place.

she has the upmost faith in you. growing closer with each patrol, each gym session, and sometimes just casually hanging about the FOB or at each others rooms. your friendship was something others envied; it was pure, full of trust and built upon mutual respect. but those closest to you knew it meant more than what first meets the eye.

abby was out of sight in the blink of an eye, you look around in a suspicious daze, trying to follow her whereabouts. she was quick, but not quicker than you.

you had a long-overdue session to finish, but abby looked relatively… uneasy. something was wrong, and you could feel it. the line between instincts and curiosity began to blur as your feet developed a mind of their own, your duffel bag and towel long gone as you’d already turned the corner outside the gymnasium.

maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was overkill to automatically assume the worst was happening to her. but if something was really up with abby, you wouldn’t live it down if you didn’t initiate help.

the look on abby’s face as you stared at her through the firmly rimmed glass, her beautifully arched eyebrows furrowing only ever illuminating her intense eyes — a million thoughts a minute ran through your mind, instinctively charging for two heavy silver doors and up a random stairwell. you could smell the scent of pine and sweat — that was definitely abby.

all reasoning for your unexplainable shenanigans flew out the window as you approached abby’s room, a series of shuffles followed by a supposed muffled voice echoed from the opposite side.

your hand hesitantly reached up to knock, only to realise the door was never locked to begin with. abby could never be that careless, — maybe manny, but regardless — she would sometimes recall times where she’d have to remind him to lock up before leaving during your sessions at the gym. she’d never make a mistake she so harshly scolded people for.

your face inches closer to the door, the cool solid wood sending a kiss of shivers across your exposed shoulders as it welcomingly swayed open.

with each step, the unintelligible noises grew much clearer, and it was becoming more palpable as to what that was entailing.

you’re heart only dropped to your gut at the sound of your name, uttered by a helpless, whining mess.

“please… please.”

the door conditionally, and gently swayed closed on its own behind you, a little clck locking the door in full as you took a couple steps closer. was this a figment of your twisted imagination? the soft whimpers and subsequent cries of your name begged to differ. it was no secret now. abby had a thing for you. you were almost too afraid to move as each whine only grew more vehement.

with a couple more stalled footsteps, you froze at the sight of abby, completely ruining herself at the fate of her own hand.

your eyes widened instantly, the warm air prickling your eyes as would salt water. seeing her all ruined over the thought of you was enough to lift your hands over your mouth in keen disbelief.

you attempted to gather yourself, debating whether or not confronting her on this was the best idea — but no normal person would just walk away and forget this ever happened — forgetting the image of abby anderson, issac’s top scar killer, ramming her slick-covered fingers inside her wet cunt all while repeating your name under a dumbed spell? it’s not something that can just leave your mind at the drop of a hat. it certainly wouldn’t later, neither.

while lost in your thoughts, your tense arms dropped to your sides as your feet followed closer, the sound of your boots shuffling against the smooth concrete floor not catching her attention,

“abby?”

you watched as her oceanic eyes shot open, the abby you once believed would simply chuckle and brush off the idea of this, now scurried to find something, anything to cover her herculean figure, freckled arms still just poking out the sides.

it took more than an ounce of self control to not let yourself run wild at the fact that the abby anderson had a rather strong fancy for you, not to mention she was fucking herself to the thought of you.

as your initial astonishment subsided, your body beamed with want. seeing abby flushed and heated clouded your acclaimed critical thinking.

“…can i have a turn?” slipped from your lips after tending to abby’s own neglected desires.

and here you were, moments passing almost at the speed of light. you laid flat on your back, tits perked up from the arch of your back with abby towered over you. her estranged braid slid off her shoulder with her eyes staring you down. your neck generously splayed with bruises and bite-marks, only reminding you that she’s been wanting this for god knows how long. unbeknownst to her, you did too, you just never believed you’d live to ever experience it.

her hand lightly grazed over your tit, meticulously attending to your swollen nipple. her thumb teased at it, rubbing the area in circles to provoke a much anticipated and equally expected reaction. with her hand on your chest and her lips returning to attack your already purpled skin, you stifled a whine, bottom lip bit between your teeth. she kissed along your throat, from the point of your jaw to the crook of your neck.

she continued toying with your body as her tongue traversed to your waist, laying another round of sloppy kisses to your hip bones and abdomen.

it was like your skin grew ten times more tender whilst under her touch, each breath of hers against your skin feeling like a gentle tickle, accompanied by her large and surprisingly delicate hands palming your tits, it was growing to be too much, too much being your style, anyways.

her hand left your chest to firmly grip onto your hips, pulling you closer to her lap. she took her already soaked fingers, prodding at your pussy like you’d done previously. your breaths grew shakier with each flick of your clit.

her eyes returned to that intense, fiercely glare from back at the gym, so that’s why she was so concentrated, or rather in her own dreamland.

her tongue laid a generous coat of saliva along her lips, staring at your pussy like the starved woman she was. for how long she’d ached for this, you had no clue. this was bound to be a moment to remember.

your cunts were practically hugging each other, the feeling of being so close to her pussy only added fuel to the fire that gleamed in your core. the longer abby stared, just taking in your breathtaking body, the stronger the feeling of being exposed grew.

her head dives below your eye view, feeling her nose bump at your clit. she savours it, her tongue peeling out at an antagonisingly slow pace as she glares at you through her arched brows. she could taste it all, her juices mixed with yours..

your hand gently took rest within her blonde locks, hooking into the back of her braid.

“abby,”

you huffed, sounding more like a plead than anything. with each soft, trembling breath, she’d drag her tongue along your cunt in sync.

her face would dig further into you, arms slithering to wrap themselves around your thighs. even if you begged for her to slow down, your needy hole that clenched around nothing, desperate to be touched, told her otherwise.

abby would stare at you longingly, finally able to die happy between your tensing thighs as she rapidly swabbed your clit with your tongue, dragging it along in circles and the likes.

your body jerked at the sudden change in pace, back arching instinctively off the bed. the whole lower half of your body fired up, tingly and numb. her muffled grunts sent you haywire, violently gripping onto her hair. she was like a leech that wouldn’t let go, sucking and lapping around that sweet spot like her life depended on it.

“stop squirming.” abby would demand as she shoved your hips back onto the mattress, not once detaching herself from you.

you could barely comprehend anything she’d say as she was practically suffocating herself between your thighs, and you’d both be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

abby teased your cunt with her fingers, carefully slipping her thick digits inside of you. your legs squeezed around her head at the sensation of feeling so full. her fingers, let alone hands, were thicker than yours. and they felt much more fulfilling.

your moans would blend harmoniously, both equally experiencing pleasure from the other as you climbed the ladder of your climax.

abby’s suppressed grunts would only ring through your ears. where was the abby that was so shamelessly call out your name moments ago?

your grip on her hair tightened, practically dragging her face along your cunt to accumulate as much friction as your body desired. her fingers would work wonders, unforgivingly pumping in and out of you as her tongue would rub against your clit. each time she would flick against it you’d jolt, back arched with a shy hand over your mouth.

in a matter of seconds, abby had pulled away — both her tongue and fingers. just as you were about to reach the peak, you’d tumble down with your high dropping in seconds.

“wh.. why’d you stop?” you breathed out, tears that rimmed your eyes beginning to dissipate.

as if abby could read your thoughts, she placed a leg over yours, dragging your helpless body closer to her. your cunts were mere centimetres apart, the slick that built up from your pleasure mixing with hers.

“wanted to rile you up..” she muttered, her beautifully eager smile spreading from ear to ear as she strategically began kneading her pussy against yours. abby let out a stifled whimper, her perfectly toned arms pulling your leg almost over her shoulder.

you whined as she slowly dragged her pussy back and forth. the only thing ruminating through your mind in the moment was how you wished you’d done this sooner. way sooner. if given the opportunity any earlier, you’d have jumped at it like an animal in heat.

tears generously coated your plump cheeks as abby picked up the pace, she muttered curses under her breath with each drag of her swollen cunt. it was evident she was close, her arms would needily latch onto yours in an attempt to pull you closer than you already were.

the sounds of timid whines and skin slapping echoed through the room. you hoped that nobody would mention a peculiar series of moans to you or abby the next day. but all you could focus on was her slick engulfed thighs, her chest and the hickeys that’d covered her tits. her neck that was equally as bruised, and her face that contorted into a smile once she noticed you were staring.

“this feel good?” she asks, a sudden grunt spilling from her lips a second after.

all you could do was nod. you were afraid once you spoke, you wouldn’t be able to stop. abby, abby, abby, abby, was all you could think of. how strong she was and how easily she could throw you around if she wanted to, how easily you could tug on her braid while she fucked you dumb. it drove you insane how she wanted you and nobody else. she fucked herself to the thought of you and nobody else.

she disapprovingly shook her head, slapping your thigh playfully.

“mm mm, i don’t take nods, use that pretty mouth,” abby grinned, her cunt grinding viciously fast against your own. you whined dumbly, the pleasure overpowering your body. you felt numbing tingles along each cell of your body.

you whined shamelessly loud, “it feels.. so good.” abby’s face enlightened, her hips picking up pace from your undying cooperation. anything for her to keep going.

she squeezed a handful of your thigh and massaged it, letting out her pent up urges that she was only able to let out now.

you dumbly mumbled a bunch of nonsense yes’, keep going’s and abby’s, initially climbing the tower of climax yet again. and abby was, too. as much as she tried to hide it, nothing could excuse how her hips would dig into your abdomen from how quick she practically humped your cunt.

abby held your thighs close to her, gaining the upper hand in creating more friction. her clit would bump against yours almost ever second. both your whines enveloped the air around you as the coil inside you snapped, your pleasure releasing out into a white pool underneath you.

but abby was far from finished.

she pulled your hips closer, with pussies rubbing against each other and whines echoing through the walls. you wouldn’t doubt for a second that someone could hear you.

with more than a couple grunts and calls for your name, abby came down from her own high, her hips faulting and slowly grudging to a stop.

you both panted relentlessly. you swore if she kept going you would’ve came a second time at the snap of a finger.

trying to regain your breaths, abby lets out a chuckle.

she doesn’t say anything, but she shakily pulls herself off of you, propping herself up by her elbow next to you.

a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as the reality of both your actions settled in. there was no hiding your attraction to one another now, none of this would’ve happened otherwise.

the never ending pining, hanging out one on one every chance you got and saying it was ‘just to train you’. you don’t know why you were surprised at the fact that abby would think about these things behind closed, or more so unlocked doors.

“..so?” abby’s voice was soft and meek, her hand fidgeting alongside her waist as her head rested on her other hand.

you hesitantly locked eyes with her, your previous shyness fading away as she planted a kiss to your forehead. something as cheesy and cute as a forehead kiss was enough to make you blush, subsiding all the things you both just did.

“..that was better than i expected.” you finally replied. abby’s eyebrow quirked, head tilting to the side.

“oh, so you thought it’d be bad?” she kids in a sly tone, that familiar smile returning once more.

you playfully punched her arm in response, the both of you knowing in reality, it felt like heaven on earth.

“does it look like it was bad?” you poke back, pointing to all the hickeys and bite marks along both your bodies.

only now did you realise how much of a mess you made. there was cum all over the bedsheets, saliva all over your cunts and what not — this place was really overdue for a cleanup.

you chuckle as you examine the aftermath.

“we should clean up..”

“we?” abby questions.

“i don’t mind, i made it too, no?”

abby couldn’t argue with that. she sighs, pulling you up and off the bed so you could both clean up. not without peppering your body with kisses first.

[bellaxgiornata]

A Favor from the Devil |Chapter Two|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Mom!Reader Word Count: 3.4k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; Domestic abuse, depictions/mentions of sexual assault, struggles with past trauma, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (possibly more warnings to come)

a/n: Throwing the second chapter at y'all because I can and I feel like y'all needed some Matt. You get his POV in this chapter, too! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag list: @kee-0-kee @dethspllz @a-half-empty-g1rl @senjoritanana @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @danzer8705 @scriptedmoon @flowher @wanda-maxamommy @guccicloudz

Making your way through the crowded streets of Hell’s Kitchen, you guided Evelyn back towards your apartment. Both of her small hands clung tight to yours as she walked in silence beside you. Every time someone stepped a little too near to the pair of you, you felt her draw herself in closer to your legs, her fingers squeezing tighter around yours. In your opposite hand you carried a grocery bag that held a single container of vanilla moose track ice cream for tonight–Evie’s favorite flavor. Unfortunately purchasing the ice cream meant you’d had less money to spend on groceries for next week, but you’d happily eat another cheap packet of ramen for dinner and skip lunches at work if the frozen treat could manage to put a smile on her face this evening.

Evie had been silent ever since you’d picked her up after work from her first day of preschool. She hadn’t said a single word, not even when you’d taken her to pick out the ice cream. All she’d done was stand in front of the row of freezers at the store and quietly point to the flavor she’d wanted. You’d tried asking her how her day had gone, what she’d done in class, or if she’d made any friends, but instead of a response you’d only seen her lips draw into a thin line.    

So you’d done what you usually did when Evelyn drew into herself and stopped talking–you talked about your day. Which in all honesty had been horrible because the job you’d managed to acquire was a tedious desk job in which you sat in the tiny confines of a cubicle staring at a computer screen for hours on end. Your boss wasn't great, either. He was always in a bad mood, often making rude comments to you if he wasn't finding a reason to criticize your work. Dealing with his attitude daily for a salary that you could barely survive on usually soured your mood the moment you stepped into the building, but at least your coworker, Amira, made the days bearable. You’d been there for barely two months, but she’d taken one look at you and seen your past written on your face. After that, you’d grown comfortable around her, slowly opening up about your personal life–but not quite all of it.

But of course, you didn’t tell Evie about the bleak and depressing parts of your days at work. You’d always done your best to make it sound like you enjoyed your time there. And even though you didn’t, you were still grateful that you'd found a way to somewhat financially support the two of you.

“Look at that!” you said, gesturing a hand towards your apartment building with the one not currently being crushed in both of Evie’s. “We’re home already!”

Evie remained silent, not expressing a single emotion as to whether she was excited to be back or not. Wordlessly she followed you through the building’s main doors and into the lobby. Once the doors had shut behind you, the sound of the city just a little quieter now that you were off the streets, she seemed to relax. No longer on the crowded sidewalk, Evie’s hands somewhat loosened their grip on yours as you led her over towards the elevators. 

You tried to think of a way that you could cheer her up tonight, hoping to pull her out of her nonverbal phase before it really took hold, but considering your limited funds, you didn’t have many options. The best you could think of was a movie night, though all you had to watch movies on was the cheap cell phone you'd purchased once you'd gotten Evie and yourself out of your previous situation. 

As you pushed the call button for the elevator and waited for it to appear, you did your best to fight back the tears welling in your eyes. If only you could afford to purchase more toys for her to play with. A television and a couch for the pair of you to cozy up on at night. Anything . But all you had was each other. 

The familiar weight of your guilt that permanently sat heavy like a stone in your stomach reared its head. Once more you felt like a shitty mother, failing to provide all the things you wished you could for your child. But yet you refused to break down–at least, not here in front of Evie. You'd wait for the opportunity later tonight when you were certain she was asleep. Right now your priority was cheering her up and turning her day around, not wallowing in your own feelings.

She was the priority, not you.

The elevator doors opened and you forced a smile onto your face, blinking hard a couple of times. You gently pulled Evie along with you, stepping onto the elevator before pushing the button for the sixth floor.

“How about we reheat last night’s pizza and watch a movie on my phone tonight, cricket?” you asked, glancing down at your daughter as the elevator doors closed. “We can cuddle in your sleeping bag and pretend we’re camping. And then we can eat ice cream out of the container for dessert,” you suggested, knowing full well that you didn’t have any bowls in the kitchen yet. “Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Evie’s attention shifted towards you, her expression remaining neutral and impossible to read. She didn’t respond and her continued silence caused the smile on your face to become strained as you fought to keep it there. Your eyes traveled to the numbers above the elevator doors, watching as they changed from a five to a six. At least you’d be back in your apartment soon.

“What’s mute?”

The sound of Evie’s quiet, small voice startled you. As the doors of the elevator slowly rolled open with a ding , you glanced down at your daughter beside you. She was staring up at you with that still hard to read expression on her face. 

“Mute?” you asked, stepping out of the elevator with her. “What do you mean, cricket? Where’d you hear that?”

“School,” she answered. 

A frown settled onto your lips. Had the children there been teasing her? Or worse–the teachers?

“It just means that you–” 

You’d been about to explain the meaning of the word until you’d noticed a man at the far end of the hallway. The unexpected sight of him caused you to instantly grow quiet even though he was just standing outside of the apartment directly across the hall from yours seemingly attempting to unlock his front door. 

Your pace slowed as you observed him, your brain immediately screaming threat at the sight of him. Beneath that tight blue dress shirt he wore you could see that he was broad and muscular, the material pulled taut in various places along his torso. With the way his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, they revealed his thick forearms which hinted at even thicker biceps. Even his thighs filled out the dark slacks he wore, suggesting a strength about him that you couldn’t deny.

He looked intimidating and dangerous. 

You then noticed the cane in his left hand and the dark glasses currently sitting on his nose despite the fact that he wasn’t outside. Watching how he used his hands as he attempted to guide his key into the lock, you quickly pieced things together. Blind, you assumed. He was blind. But his disability didn't matter; he still looked like he could throw a solid punch and that alone had you on edge in his presence. 

Your mouth went dry as you stepped ahead of Evie, somewhat placing your body in front of hers as you both continued down the hallway. Of course you knew this man was most likely going to ignore you both even if he somehow noticed you. He was probably just getting home from work, too. More than likely he just wanted to eat dinner and relax like everyone else in the city. And the likelihood of him being a violent individual seemed slim–because logically you knew that not every man was–but for some reason something about him had put you on alert.

As you neared closer, your heart pounding heavily as the hair prickled along the back of your neck, you caught the way his hands stopped what they were doing. Briefly your feet faltered when you saw his head turn just a fraction over his shoulder in your direction as if he'd somehow picked up on the fact that he wasn't alone in the hallway. 

In that moment, you didn't remotely care if you were being rude or not, you practically dragged Evie the rest of the way towards your door in silence. Already having pulled your apartment key out of your pocket before you'd reached it, you unlocked the door swiftly before ushering your daughter inside. In a panicked rush, you darted after her before shutting and locking the door behind you without a backwards glance at the man.

Standing in front of the door for a moment, you paused to release the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. Rude or not, you weren't going to offer him help or introduce yourself. Something about him had triggered your instincts to run and that had been reason enough to avoid him.

You felt a tug at your hand and you snapped out of your thoughts, your eyes dropping down towards your daughter. Evie was staring up at you with wide, worried eyes.

“You okay, mama?” she asked.

Nodding in response, you blew out a rough breath and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze in return. “Yeah, cricket,” you answered, still feeling a little on edge. “Yeah, I'm good.” Clearing your throat, you held up the bag with the ice cream in it and tried to smile back at her. “Maybe I should put this in the freezer before it melts on us after that long walk in the heat, huh?”

Evie gave you a single nod in response before she released your hand. 

Turning towards the kitchen, you made your way over to the fridge and opened the freezer. You frowned at the sole bag of dinosaur chicken nuggets sitting on a shelf by itself. They'd thankfully been on sale the other day–another of Evie’s favorites–but that was all you currently had in the freezer at the moment. 

“What movie do you want to watch tonight?” you asked Evie, placing the ice cream on a shelf.

“Little Mermaid,” she answered softly. 

It wasn't a stretch for you to understand why that movie was often her favorite choice lately. 

“Alright, cricket,” you said, closing the freezer door to open the door to the fridge next. “Why don't you get cozy in some pajamas and I'll start reheating the pizza in the oven? You and Barnabas can get settled in the sleeping bag and I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

You weren’t surprised when Evie didn't respond, but the soft padding of her feet through the apartment and to her bedroom behind you was answer enough. 

Launching himself up onto the platform of the fire escape, Matt began his usual ascent up the neighboring building beside his own apartment building. As he scaled his way upwards, heading towards the roof now that his night was over, Matt's mind was busy working over the information that he'd uncovered as Daredevil tonight. Information he hoped to find ways to use as Matt Murdock this week with Foggy and Karen.

But as he climbed his way up fire escape after fire escape, he couldn't help but feel the exhaustion from the night settling into his body. He'd been running himself ragged all week trying to juggle both halves of his life and tonight he was admittedly feeling the repercussions of it. He needed a good night's sleep, but judging by the sounds of the city, it was probably somewhere around two or three in the morning. If he was lucky, he'd manage to get three or four hours before dragging his tired and battered body back out of bed to get to work.

Finally reaching the topmost fire escape, Matt grabbed ahold of his usual footholds on the side of the building and began pulling himself the rest of the way onto the roof. He let out a soft groan when he lifted himself up and over the railing and onto the rooftop. Briefly collapsing onto his knees, he took a minute to catch his breath. It was hot out this evening and his suit wasn't making him any less warm.

After his short break, Matt forced himself back up and onto his feet before jogging across the top of the building towards his own. He was ready to peel off his sweaty suit and be home for the evening, already looking forward to stepping into his shower and washing off his long day. 

With practiced ease he flung himself between the gaps of both buildings and landed with a sharp jolt. He grit his teeth at the impact, taking a moment to recover before rising to his feet and striding over to the roof access door which led back to his place. But he managed to take all of two steps before his tired ears caught something he hadn't expected.

Crying. Soft, muffled sobs coming from just below where he stood.

Matt hesitated, his eyes narrowing behind his mask as he tried to figure out who would’ve been awake and crying at this hour. The only other people who lived on the sixth floor with him were the long since widowed Mrs. Henderson–who definitely didn't spend her evenings crying–and his new neighbors that had moved in just last night.

The strange and short encounter he'd had with you earlier this evening resurfaced in Matt's mind. He'd been coming home from the office and was busy thinking about what he was hoping to accomplish in the city this evening as Daredevil, barely paying attention to much else. But somehow the immediate and overpowering scent of absolute fear he'd been slammed with had managed to break through his distracted thoughts. He'd felt that overwhelming fear from both you and the young girl which he'd assumed was your daughter from the moment you'd left the elevator and noticed him.

The acrid scent of it had instantly given Matt pause. At first he'd wondered if you both had somehow recognized him as Daredevil. But he'd quickly realized that seemed a stupid and impossible thought the moment he'd had it. But why else would you both become so quiet and fearful of him when he was just unlocking his apartment door? The feeling of your combined emotions had deeply unsettled him. No one had ever reacted to him like that before, certainly not as Matthew Murdock, the friendly, blind lawyer.

Matt had considered trying to turn around and introduce himself to you both, hoping that maybe he would appear far less terrifying to you if he’d flashed a charming smile and given you his name, but you'd grabbed your daughter and darted inside your apartment so fast that Matt hadn't had the opportunity.

It had been…odd. You both had been odd. And admittedly your reaction to him had piqued his curiosity. 

Turning around on the rooftop, Matt casually strode away from the door that led to his apartment and over towards the side of the building near your fire escape instead. Curiosity had won out over a shower and sleep for now. He wanted to make sense of that unsettling experience he'd had with you in the hallway. He hadn't liked scaring you both, feeling like he was some sort of dangerous monster.

Tossing himself over the side of the building, he landed softly onto the fire escape below. He stayed low in a crouch, throwing his senses out into your apartment to make sure he hadn't been seen when he’d dropped down. If you'd reacted the way you had earlier to just Matt Murdock, he could only imagine the reaction Daredevil would receive standing on your fire escape in the middle of the night. 

A minute passed and when no one shrieked or otherwise alerted Matt to having been noticed, he slowly rose to his full height. As he stood there, he could still hear the quiet, muffled crying that he'd caught on the roof continuing from inside. Paying close attention to it, it sounded like the sound was coming from just outside of the door of the bedroom who’s window he was standing at. 

Head tilting curiously to the side, he began examining your apartment as best as he could from the outside. And what he found easily surprised him.

Nothing. There was hardly anything in your apartment at all. He didn’t hear the usual buzz of electronics that he often did–like televisions or computers or even toasters. Focusing even closer, it sounded like the air from the air conditioning unit blowing in your apartment was moving with hardly any interruptions. As if you didn’t even have furniture. And judging from the placement of the crying and the sound of what seemed like your daughter’s even breaths as she slept, both of you appeared to be quite low on the ground. Like you were both lying on the floor instead of on beds.

Matt’s head tilted further to the side, a frown pulling his lips downwards beneath his mask. How strange. Had the pair of you not finished fully moving in yet? Or…did you really not have any furniture? 

Something stirred in Matt’s chest as another one of your sobs hit his ears. There was something going on here, there had to be. People didn’t usually react that way to strangers without cause–he would know because he’d never experienced that level of fear from someone outside of his Daredevil suit before. And there was the fact that you were laying on the floor in front of your daughter’s bedroom instead of laying in the second bedroom that he knew was in the apartment. There was only one reason he could imagine a mother doing that–you were protecting your daughter.

But why? And from who?

Matt reached a gloved hand up and gently rested it onto the glass of the window carefully, trying to focus his senses even more closely inside. He found himself desperately wanting answers about his new neighbors, but just as he leaned forward and turned his head to listen better, he heard a rustling inside the room–distinctly that of a sleeping bag. Terrified of being caught, Matt pushed himself roughly away from the window before beginning to quickly pull himself back up onto the roof. 

“Mama?”

Your daughter had definitely woken, Matt realized. He could hear her pulse steadily increasing now that she was awake. There were only a few seconds that passed before he heard a frantic tossing of a blanket onto the floor before the bedroom door had flung open.

“What’s wrong, Evie? Are you okay? Did you have another bad dream?”

There was a faint shift of air that Matt caught–like your daughter shaking her head–before he heard the scared, small voice again.

“Someone’s here.”

Your body immediately went straight into fight or flight and Matt curiously noted the intensity of it.

“Where, cricket?”

“Outside.”

Matt winced, running a gloved hand over his mouth as he stood there on the roof. So your daughter had noticed something. He needed to be more careful. Hopefully she hadn't seen his very recognizable costume. 

“No one’s there, Evie,” came your reassuring voice, though Matt could hear that your body was still panicked. “You’re safe, I promise. Okay? We’re both safe here.”

Shaking his head, he pulled his senses away from your apartment. That was enough eavesdropping on your place for the night. He had a few ideas about what might’ve been going on with you both now, a sick feeling bubbling in his gut at all of the dark scenarios racing through his mind. He hoped he wasn’t right about any of them, but if he was, he’d now become personally determined to make sure you both remained safe here. Because even though he didn’t actually know either of you, you were a part of Hell's Kitchen–the city he loved deeply. His city. And that was more than enough reason for Matt to find himself suddenly caring about the both of you.

[qatarsprint2023]

Hi im shamelessly in love with Oscar so how about Oscar x reader, where the reader gets really overwhelmed and Oscar helps calm her down!!!

I really liked writing this because I've been getting so many Lando requests and I'm not even that big of a Lando girl (I'm sorry!) I'm not quite sure if you meant it like this or more like a meltdown overwhelmed, but I hope you enjoy anyways <3

That overwhelming world of his — OP81

Oscar takes his girlfriend to an official event for the first time and she gets overwhelmed from how it all works — Oscar Piastri x f!reader, comfort, fluff, no use of y/n, Oscar being a sweetheart, reader has social anxiety, body image issues word count: ca. 1.3k

Being with Oscar also required being okay with the fame and spotlight that came with dating an athlete in the most prestigious category of motorsports— Formula One.

You adored watching your boyfriend race— even more when he had a good result, but you were always there for him, comforting and holding and reassuring him when he didn't do quite as well, too.

Today was the day Oscar had been looking forward to with excitement for at least a month now. He was going to be awarded his second Rookie of the Year award at the FIA prize giving tonight. He had received his first one in 2021 when he was still a rookie in F2 and not driving for one of the most prestigious teams in Formula One.

However this year was the first time he'd bring you as his date because unfortunately you'd been way too busy with working to get your degree to even take a few days off for his first award. You didn't usually go to these kinds of events with Oscar. It wasn't like you needed to be attached at the hip to still be a loving couple with a healthy relationship. He could do things without you and you could do things without him.

That didn't mean that you didn't care about the other's career, though. In fact, it was quite the opposite actually. Oscar had instantly been one of your biggest supporters when you'd finally decided on what you wanted to study. Your boyfriend had helped you through exams and countless late night study sessions, just like you'd always supported his passion for racing through highs and lows.

Now this was different. Today you'd spent hours getting ready. Redoing your hair and make-up over and over again, criticizing your appearance in the mirror until you looked presentable. Getting dressed had been even worse. One dress you tried just looked like a potato sack on you, the next had you picking and pinching the fabric in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom with a scrutinizing gaze.

Oscar had been a silent presence in the doorway as he watched you stare at yourself like that until he'd slowly gone and hugged you gently, hoping it would make you feel better about whatever your mind was telling you. Then he'd taken the decision problem off your hands by looking at the dresses in your closet for about a minute and then taking out a very nice dress with navy blue fabric and pretty embroidered flowers. Eventually you'd just gone with that one, knowing you couldn't spend hours trying to fix what didn't really need to be fixed.

The ride in the car afterwards was tense and quiet as your mind wandered. Oscar mentally prepared himself to receive his award while you kept bouncing your leg and picking at your nails. That was until Oscar just took your hand in his and gently let his thumb draw small circles into the skin there, whispering a soft "You'll do great," as he kept one hand on the steering wheel.

When you arrived at the venue, Oscar got out first and walked around to open your car door for you like a real gentleman. As you stepped out of the car, you were both instantly caught in the flickering flashlights of cameras to each side of the entrance and calls of "Oscar! Oscar, here!" from photographers who hoped to catch your boyfriend smiling at their camera.

The onslaught of flashing lights and clamoring voices overwhelmed your senses, made your heart speed up and your mouth go dry as your eyes darted all around. It felt like stepping into a whirlwind of attention and scrutiny, each flash of a camera a reminder of Oscar's world—a world where every move was watched, every word dissected.

You clung to Oscar's hand like a lifeline, trying to navigate the sea of people and paparazzi, your heart pounding like it wanted to run away. Each click that came from the cameras around seemed like a spotlight on every single one of your insecurities, leaving them out for everyone to see and judge.

Your grip on your boyfriend's hand tightened as you felt your breathing speed up a little, seeking solace in the familiar warmth of his skin. He seemed to sense your unease and pulled you a little closer, shielding you from the chaotic scene around. His touch offered reassurance as he guided you through the maze of photographers and flashing lights. The voices calling out faded into the background as he whispered a tender, "I've got you."

As you entered the venue, the atmosphere shifted from the outside frenzy to a more controlled chaos within. The air was thick with anticipation and the buzz of conversations. Oscar led you towards the event hall, his hand a steady anchor in the overwhelming current.

You caught glimpses of familiar faces, fellow drivers and their partners, all effortlessly navigating this world that felt like an alien landscape to you. The weight of inadequacy pressed upon your shoulders, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider in this world of glamour.

You could feel eyes on you and the pressure seemed almost suffocating. You knew you didn't have that model look the girls that dated Oscar's fellow drivers had, and you'd never really thought of that as something too bad, however surrounded by people who looked so perfect, so unreal, you felt so wrong.

As you took your seats, the crowd's buzz continued, but Oscar's focus remained on you as you started bouncing your leg under the table, your fingers subconsciously picking at your dress' fabric just like earlier in front of the mirror. Leaning in, he murmured, "I'm here. Just be yourself, okay? I'm happy to have you here with me, you know that?"

You gave a short nod in reply, however still kept your fingers intertwined with his under the table as he made conversation with the woman in the seat beside him. His hand felt so warm and reassuring, his skin slightly calloused from years of hard training for a very demanding sport.

Throughout the ceremony, Oscar's gaze periodically met yours, silently offering encouragement through his honey brown eyes, telling you that you were allowed to be here just as much as everyone else. When the moment arrived for him to accept the award, he gave your hand a quick squeeze before stepping onto the stage with a big smile on his face as applause and cheers echoed through the hall. You'd never felt more proud.

After the accolades subsided and the night unfolded, Oscar made a conscious effort to ensure you felt included despite obviously being confused by everything, introducing you to fellow racers and their partners.

A little later in the evening, when people had almost forgotten about the actual reason they were even here, Oscar guided you to a more quiet corner, away from the prying eyes. The genuine concern in his eyes mirrored the unspoken understanding between you. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle and filled with sincerity.

"It's so overwhelming," you muttered quietly. "There are so many people, so many cameras, the noise... It feels so wrong to be here."

"Hey, don't do that," he scolded you softly, taking your hands in his. "You're allowed here just as much as me. Take a deep breath, okay? We're a team right?"

"Right," you replied with a nod and drew in a shaky breath.

"You're doing wonderful, don't worry. I know you get anxious around so many people, so many eyes," your boyfriend told you in a soft tone of voice and gently pulled you close, brushing his lips against your temple. "I'm just happy you came with me, sweetheart."

In that moment, as Oscar's words wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, you realized that even in the whirlwind of this foreign world, he cherished you and all the love and support you brought into his life.

[stackslip]

i mean to be fair to manga/brotherhood edward elric, he is a completely different character than his 03 counterpart. his function is first and foremost to be a fun, exciting shounen protagonist who vaguely breaks some of the trope's mold by being openly abrasive and selfish and physically weaker than many 90s/early 2000s shounen protags were. and he fulfills that role pretty well within the context of the story, he's genuinely very entertaining and fun and Relatable for a teen audience chafing against authority and adults looking down on you. so im never gonna say mangahood ed elric is like, a bad character when his concept is perfectly executed. im gonna be critical of say, several plot points about him (like the xerxes thing) or how he treats scar and ishbal (my problem here being less him and more that the narrative entirely validates his point of virw around the subject), but i cant deny that in reading fma he is a very endearing and fun protag to follow, and that's his primary function so.... yknow. that's fine.

in opposition, 03 ed elric is.... not meant to be nearly as relatable or fun, and the narrative is also a lot more critical of his actions, which i think is part of why to a lot of og fma fans he feels *off* and uncomfortable. he's not meant to be a funny audience stand-in or representative of teenagers saving the day despite abrasive shitty adults. if anything, his age and inexperience and trauma lead to him making mistakes, chasing the wrong leads, playing right into the hands of people much older and powerful and him lashing out or lying to himself to protect himself and alphonse. 03's slower pace and lack of budget also means that ed rarely gets to be a cool action hero and be super strong in battles. it's not nearly as triumphant or empowering, it's uncomfortable to see him be much more openly, humanly flawed, and to suffer and take away the wrong lessons from this suffering. it's also purposefully uncomfortable to see so many actions that mangahood treats glibly or shy away from ed's responsibility in awful things, being instead brought to the forefront in agonizing detail and for ed to be forced to confront them despite his pleas and denial and attempts to run from it!

because 03 ed isnt a shounen protagonist tbh. sure, he is an audience stand-in insofar that he, along the audience, is forced to confront a lot of uncomfortable truths about the system he's wilfully chosen to be part of. his flaws are relatable inasmuch that they're deeply human ones: wouldn't you too choose denial when confronted with the unwilling results of your actions? if you felt like you'd failed the one you loved most in the world, wouldn't you be a mass of guilt and trauma and passively suicidal about it? when confronted with your prejudices, would you really nod sagely and accept them or would you feel uncomfortable and struggle to accept that your framework has been flawed from the beginning?

but even so, he can be frustrating to the audience. his refusal to say out loud what the audience already knows re sloth and having created a homonculus. how his attempts at action get stopped or play right into others' wider manipulations. how he tries so hard to deny homonculi's humanity, his prejudices and racism towards ishbalans being a lot more blatant and clearly wrong. his admitted lack of regard for others if it means al is safe. he's not nearly as fun, here! he's a product of his environment, someone who could easily take the same path his father and dante embarked on, someone who could so easily become the "perfect" alchemist and quit having regard for human life altogether. his compassion is something he has to learn, his arrogance as a facade for his pain is one that crumbles progressively. he learns very slowly, sometimes makes one step back for every step forward. he has to learn to slow down and accept reality as it is, that there are many things that he cannot understand but that he has a responsibility to others and the world anyway, and this means listening. it means not cutting himself away from the world and viewing himself on a pedestal. it means taking a leap of faith, sometimes. swallowing your pride and accepting responsibility and that it is up to you to fix what you've started. you cant go back to an idealized state, because it never existed in the first place!

sure, it means this ed isnt as exciting or fun or cocky. he's insecure, he's traumatized, he's stubborn and brash in ways that aren't fun. but hot damn it he isnt so much more fascinating and nuanced than his original counterpart! a deeply tragic, layered, mature character. what a shame, how many people dont know about him or refuse to accept him because he isnt as funny or comforting as the manga

[badomensbaby]

so into you. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: luke hemmings, a voice actor you've been working closely with for quite some time, ends up confessing just how into you he really is.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, degradation, praise kink, slight sir kink, dom/sub undertones, swearing, oral sex (female receiving), mask kink, explicit sexual content.

words: 4,680

a/n: iiiiii cannot express where i came up with this idea. i don't mention explicitly in this fic what video game luke's working on but in my head, it's COD MW3. (i may have a small obsession with ghost. whatever.) but alas, i left this fic alone for like a week and finished it on a whim. enjoy. x

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

Ah, Luke Hemmings, the bane of your existence. 

It’s not that you hate him or anything, unless feeling so sick to your stomach because he’s too damn pretty to be working as a voice actor counts as hate, then maybe. But it’s really quite the opposite. 

You’ve been working at the video game development studio for almost two years. Your title has changed far too many times, as well as your responsibilities, but you get to see ideas come to life from the loose concept to the console screen so you can’t complain too much. 

Right now, you’re in the middle of a contract for a multiplayer war game. It’s a sequel, or a prequel- whatever, it doesn’t really matter. The franchise has been around for ages but they’re always coming up with new content and it’s part of your job to make sure every voice and cgi actor are dressed and ready to perform accordingly. 

Even though your manager can be a little overkill, like how he demands any voice actor be in full dress while they’re in the recording booth. It really doesn’t do much for their performance but your manager refuses to listen. 

You’re in the middle of skimming through your to-do list for the day. There’s three people who still need to get some lines of dialogue done for the storyline of the video game so it’s your responsibility to make sure they don’t fuck around in the booth all afternoon. First up, and is already late, is none other than Luke. 

It doesn’t surprise you. Despite looking like a total diva with his sharp jaw and soft, fluffy blonde curls that seem to be immune to any humidity, always laying so perfectly, he was probably the sweetest guy in the industry you’d ever met. Always polite and charming. Sometimes you think he might be flirting with you but it’s likely he’s just that nice. 

A paper cup of branded coffee suddenly invades your vision, blocking your view of the list you’ve been working on all morning. It’s warm and smells like cinnamon, your favorite. Looking up, way way up because he’s impossibly tall, is Luke, with a half-crooked smile and bright blue eyes. 

“Mornin’ Miss Y/N,” he says, despite the cheeriness on his face his voice is slightly raspy. You try not to think about it too much. It’s only eight am and you’re stuck listening to Luke in the booth until noon. “Blonde roast with cinnamon. You still drink that, right?”

Skeptically, you take the cup from him. Luke doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest by your hesitance. “Thank you?” It’s meant to be a statement but it slips out as more of a question. “Is this why you’re late, Hemmings?”

A glint of mischief flickers in his eyes. “Why, were you worried about me?”

Your stomach seems to flutter rather easily at his words. Shut up, brain! Luke’s a coworker, stop it. “We’ve only got four hours in the booth and almost fifty lines of dialogue,” You roll your eyes, trying to remain professional. “We need every minute we can get.”

“Fair enough, I’ll go get dressed. Have you got my gear ready?” Luke sips at his own drink and you can smell it from where you stand only a foot away. Chai tea latte with hazelnut. Man has taste. 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, trying to keep your eyes away from the frothy milk of his latte dribbling down the side of his lip. Christ. “Yeah everything’s ready to go. Just get your gear on and meet me in the booth.”

“Aye aye, captain,” The blonde mock-salutes you with a wink, before heading off to his dressing room down the hall. Thankful for the ability to properly breathe again, you quickly shake your head and go inside of the small recording studio and begin to organize the dialogue Luke’s meant to be working on this morning. 

It’s almost as if you forget how to operate when Luke steps into the small room. It’s only the two of you today, as the sound technician won’t be in until later but you have a decent grasp on which recorded lines will sound best in the final production. 

Luke’s already absurdly tall, well over six feet but with his full gear on he’s pushing halfway to seven feet. With thick combat boots on his feet, and full camo gear covering every inch of his lengthy body. A thick, heavy armor carrier plate is fixed against his chest, and his mask is held loosely in his hand. You force yourself to swallow the thick lump stuck in your throat. 

“Can you turn the air on?” Luke asks, oblivious to how you’re struggling to breathe when he looks like that. “M’gonna fuckin’ roast in there if you don’t.”

“Yeah- yeah, sure,” You stumble both verbally and physically, barely managing to catch yourself as you twist behind you to turn the air a little cooler in the small room. It won’t help the flush that’s spreading across every inch of your body. You can’t face him yet, so you pretend like changing the temperature is a little more time consuming than it really is. “You can go ahead whenever.”

The sound booth’s door shuts with a soft click. Your heart’s beating a little hard but at least there’s thick glass separating yourself and Luke now, and once you’re sitting with headphones on you’ll barely be able to see him. God, what a terrible time to remember that stupid masked man fantasy of yours. 

Luke does well, as usual, hitting the perfect low pitch for his character that your manager hired him for. He plays the character well, you have to admit, hearing his voice rasped and grovely is almost too much. You lower the volume on the headphones just to spare yourself the embarrassment of getting worked up. 

It’s eleven-thirty when he finishes up. Every line of dialogue is near perfect and you’re sure they’ll make production without a hitch, so you have no qualms about turning off the recording light that illuminates the hall outside of the small studio. 

You’re in the process of organizing the recorded files for the sound technician to look over when Luke steps out of the booth. 

Instead of peeling the mask from his head, he left it on, his gloved hands clasped on the doorframe a few inches above his head. Christ, he looks like he stepped out of a fairly inappropriate fantasy dream you could conjure up after a glass or two of wine. “Even got time to spare.”

You can tell Luke’s smirking beneath the black and white mask, if the glimmer in his baby blue eyes is anything to go by. You just blink, too dumb to come up with anything to say, pulling the headphones to rest around your neck. “Uh- you- you did great.”

“Thanks, Miss Y/N,” his head cocks, helmet almost knocking into the side of the door frame but Luke doesn’t notice. “I love when you compliment me. I know you mean it.”

Your cheeks feel hot. It’s too warm in here, that’s all. Maybe the air isn’t working or something. “I do mean it,” you say softly. “You’re a great voice actor. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”

Luke drops his hands from the door frame, instead leaning against it, his eyes still fixed on you. “You okay over there? You look a bit flushed.”

“M’fine sir- Luke,” You quickly clear your throat, hoping Luke hadn’t caught your stupid slip up. How fucking embarrassing, do you not have a filter? Suddenly a man all dressed up in gear and a mask has you calling him sir? Get a grip! 

“Sir?” Luke echoes, his voice syrupy sweet and laced with curiosity. “That’s a new one. Usually all I get from you is Hemmings. I like that, you should call me sir more often.”

You want to look away but it’s impossible. Like a damn car crash, your eyes are fixated on the tall man. It’s fucking sinful how good he looks like that. “It was- it was nothing, don’t read into it.” You deflect. 

“Yeah, okay,” Luke says sarcastically, followed up by a slow, dramatic sigh. “It’s a shame, though. Figured you’d finally admit you’re into me so I can stop pining after you in silence.”

Your eyes widen. “What?” 

A low laugh erupts from Luke’s chest. “Don’t tell me you’re that oblivious, Y/N. I’ve been obsessed with you since day one. Why do you think we’re always working together?”

“My manager said I’m doing well-“

“That was after I gave him season passes to every game the Dodgers play, sweetheart. Told him I won’t work for him unless m’with you.”

Your brows knit in confusion. Has your growth within your position all been at Luke’s doing? You’ve been working with him nearly as long as you’ve been with the company. And suddenly it all makes sense. 

Why your manager never seemed to care what you’ve been working so hard for, complimenting you regardless of any efforts shown to him. Why he doesn’t hang around the studio anymore to micromanage your every move. 

You stand abruptly. “You asshole!” The words escape without a second thought. “You bribed my manager so you could work with me? That’s- that’s…”

“I thought you’d be flattered,” Luke says, almost somberly but you know he’s anything but. He’s a voice actor for crying out loud, he can make himself sound however he wants, regardless if it’s real. “What’s the big deal anyway? You have almost total freedom and you’re stuck with me all the time. It’s a win-win.”

Whatever attraction you have towards Luke is pushed to the back burner of your mind. Yeah, you have a stupid crush on him but how could he meddle with your job like that? The two of you aren’t even friends, he had no right.

“That wasn’t your decision to make. Who knows now if I’m doing well because of me or because of you? Terry could be spewing bullshit about my performance reviews to keep you happy!”

“You’re being dramatic,” Luke drones lazily. “Of course you’re doing well because of you. All I did was keep us working together, s’not like I fucking paid Terry off to give you a promotion.”

“I don’t know that!” You yell frustratedly, fists balling at your sides. “God- you- take that fucking mask off, would you?”

Luke remains still. “Now why would I do that?” he asks lowly, stepping toward you. Your shoulders draw inward, despite your attempt to keep confident. “Clearly it’s distracting you. Which I think is working in my favor.”

“It’s not.” You mutter weakly. 

“Liars aren’t cute,” Luke tuts. “What, does my mask get you all hot and bothered, Miss Y/N? Huh? Because I’m bigger than you? Because I can do anything I want to you and you can’t stop me?”

“Luke-“

“Tell me I’m wrong, Y/N,” his voice impossibly lowers, until it’s a hushed rasp, his chest only a mere few inches from yours. Craning your neck to look up at him easily makes you weak in the knees. You know he’s right and you can’t find the words to tell him otherwise. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Your lip quivers nervously. The words are right there, the lie you could easily spew but it won’t make it off of your tongue. His eyes are too dark to resist, swirls of pretty blue swallowed by his pupils. Blown out and expectant. “You..”

“You can’t, can you? Because you know I’m right,” Luke continues, clearly feeding off of the nerves you’re trying to swallow down. It’s written all over your face, you’re sure of it. Like a book printed in size twenty bold font. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I see the way you look at me. I watch you quiver every time I put my gear on,”

Nothing escapes you except a helpless, trembling whimper. One of Luke’s gloved hands slowly raises to push a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Your eyes are nearly brimming with tears of frustration, of how badly you’re ready to give in to him, of how stupid you feel, wet and desperate between your thighs. It’s the mask, you try to tell yourself, but it’s useless because you know damn well it’s a lie. 

It isn’t the mask, rather the person behind it. Luke’s probably the most attractive person you’ve met in a long time, it was inevitable you’d end up crushing on him, but when he’s in full dress you can’t deny there’s something inside of you that seems to light a flame inside of you that’s impossible to put out. 

“What is it you like so much, hm?” Luke’s head cocks curiously, his cloudy eyes slowly raking over your body. You can tell he’s smirking beneath the mask at how tightly your hands are balled into fists at your sides, holding yourself back from doing something you shouldn’t. “You know what I think? I think you like giving up control. Obeying. Submitting. And when I’m dressed like this you really have no choice but to listen to me.”

“Luke..” your lips weakly spew the man’s name out. He seems to hum in content, he knows you’re close to giving in. He wants to push you over that line. Cross it with no shame. “I..”

Luke’s gloved hand grasps your jaw, firmly but delicately, so much so that it makes your head feel dizzy. “Speak up,” he demands lowly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I..” You can hardly meet his eyes. It’s pathetic of you, trembling like this and stuttering over yourself. Luke knows it too. “I want.. you.”

“Me?” He echoes, but it sounds a little demeaning the way it falls from his mouth. “You’re not giving me much to work with here, Y/N. Better spit it out.”

“I.. want..” Your eyes threaten to fall shut. You’ve never really been confident when it comes to sex but there’s something about the way Luke’s speaking to you that makes you feel a bit bold. Maybe it’s a leap but fuck, you won’t know unless you try. 

With a trembling, hesitant hand, you grasp Luke’s unoccupied wrist, slowly drawing his hand downwards until it’s caressing your clothed core. “You. Please.”

Luke actually whimpers. It could easily be mistaken for a breathy sigh but you���ve been listening to this man’s every vocality for years, you know nearly every noise he can make. “Christ, Y/N,” It’s as if he wasn’t expecting your bold move. “I swear to God I’ll fuck you right here. I will, if you’ll let me.”

“Yeah- yes,” You frantically nod, too dizzy to provide any other words of confirmation. It’s all Luke needs, really, before he’s pressing his hand harder against your damp underwear, warm and inviting, he swears he can almost feel your arousal through his glove. “Luke, please.”

“Yeah, m’gonna take care of you, promise,” Luke releases your jaw, working to strip his gloves from his hands. You almost whimper from the loss of contact but you know what’s coming next is far better than a measly touch outside of your pants. “Gonna be a good girl for me, Y/N?”

You whimper out something along the lines of “yes” that Luke seems to be satisfied with because he’s planting a firm hand on your shoulder and spinning you around, using his grip to shove your body forward until your palms collide with the sound booth’s desk. Careful to avoid pressing any buttons you shouldn’t, you adjust yourself slightly, breaths heavy as Luke shuffles behind you. 

You can feel how hard he is through the thick, camo pants he’s wearing, cock strained against the fabric and digging into your backside. Your toes curl inside of your shoes. He feels big. You feel Luke’s fingers tease at the waistband of your jeans. “Can I?”

“Yes- fuck,” You mutter through gritted teeth. There isn’t anything for you to properly hold on to while Luke’s fingers work to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before shimmying them down your hips and the swell of your ass, leaving them pooled just above your knees. 

“Don’t have a lot of time, Y/N, Mark’s up next isn’t he?” Luke slowly teases his fingers along the dampened material of your underwear, resulting in the soft arch of your back as your hips move closer to him. “Such a shame. The things I’d do for a taste of that pretty pussy..”

“Luke, can you just-“ You’re filled to the brim with frustration, desperately wet and on the edge of bratty at the amount of time Luke’s wasting. He seems to understand easily, because a hand comes down on your left cheek, leaving a pretty little pink handprint on your skin. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Luke says around a scoff, sliding your underwear down to join your jeans a little rougher than necessary. “Just for that, m’gonna fuckin’ do it. Don’t care if Mark comes in here to see my tongue deep inside your needy cunt.”

Luke’s words are sent straight to your core, stupidly wet and braindead from how badly you’re soaking the skin between your thighs. You hear the sound of Luke’s knees hitting the carpeted floor, the sound of his mask shuffling and the feeling of his warm breath on your flushed skin. 

Luke’s thumbs sink into your flesh easily, spreading you fully for him, your body falling further forward and ass in the air. You know you’re glistening pathetically, all for a hot blonde voice actor in some stupid war gear. “Y/N, you’re fuckin’ drenched. Holy shit,” Luke mumbles in disbelief. “You’re so goddamn pretty.”

You aren’t sure if Luke’s going to continue speaking but it doesn’t matter, his tongue’s busy trailing a fat, long stripe along your heat. Christ, his tongue is so goddamn warm, humming happily against you as he works, alternating between suckling your clit between his teeth and nuzzling his nose against you. Like he just can’t get enough. 

Blindly, your hand slips and without either of you being aware, the recording light outside of the small room has been illuminated. 

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N. So goddamn good,” He hums again before diving back in, practically fucking his tongue inside of you every which way, like he’s claiming you and drawing his name with every lick. You let out a soft, helpless cry when his teeth graze your clit again. “Could eat your pretty pussy for hours, baby. Wanna spread you out on my bed like a fuckin’ feast.”

“Luke-“ Your voice wobbles, a desperate breath following. You’re so fucking lightheaded it’s insane, all you crave is Luke inside of you. “Luke, please. Please fuck me.”

“Yeah baby, gonna fuck you,” Luke presses a quick, messy kiss against your clit before he pulls back, running his tongue along his lips to gather any excess. You don’t hear him slip the mask back on but you definitely hear his belt unbuckle, along with the fly of his camo pants. “Look at you, what a fuckin’ dream. Bent over and fuckin’ soaked, begging for my cock.”

The sound of Luke tearing a condom packet open with his teeth catches your attention. You hardly have enough strength to look over your shoulder but he’s already rolling the latex over his dick that’s just out of your view. “Where did you get-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence because the words die out in your throat, replaced with a strangled gasp as you feel the head of Luke’s cock slowly trail up your wetness. “Oh, fuck.”

Luke makes a smug, pleased sound before slowly pressing inside of you. And yeah, fuck, he’s definitely bigger than anyone you’ve slept with. Which, honestly, hasn’t been very many people. “Yeah, that’s it,” You hear Luke sigh behind you, hands attaching to your hips as he continues to feed his dick further inside. “Fuck, you’re swallowing my cock up. So desperate for it, aren’t you?”

It’s almost too much. Your eyes pinch shut, teeth sinking into your lower lip to keep the tears at bay. He’s stretching you out so good every inch he sinks inside, until he’s buried to the hilt and stills his hips. “Luke.. fuck, you’re- you’re big.”

You hear Luke chuckle behind you. His fingertips press harder into your hips. “What’s the point of being so cocky if I don’t have anything to show for it?” he says, amused but a little breathless. He’s just as affected by your tight warmth as you are by his sizable dick. “Don’t tell me it’s too much for you, Y/N. You’re a big girl, I know you can take it.”

“Just.. give me a minute?”

“We don’t have enough time, baby,” Luke says soothingly, almost somberly. “I promise you’ll get used to it.”

You intake a sharp, quick breath as Luke withdraws his hips. It’s definitely too big. There’s no way you’ll be able to fuck anyone ever again without remembering how full Luke made you feel.

 Then Luke snaps his hips forward and the tears you were desperately trying to hold back fall freely down your cheeks. A borderline scream falls from your mouth and you tighten around his dick, only drawing a groan deep from Luke’s throat as he begins thrusting in a steady, needy rhythm. 

So quick and forceful that the sound of his hips snapping against your backside echoes the sound room. So desperate that your body falls forward, chest splayed against the desk and Luke’s carrier plate wedged into your back, his masked breaths deep and warm on your neck. You cry out from the new angle, hitting that perfect spot inside of you. “Oh fuck- Luke- god- right there, fuck-“

“Yeah?” Luke asks in a low moan, digging his blunt fingernails into your waist as his thrusts grow more determined and quick, your body rucking upwards from his forceful movements. All you can do is wail and whine against the desk helplessly. “God, Y/N, you feel so good wrapped around my cock. Lettin’ me fuck you, such a good girl.”

Your position is definitely uncomfortable but you’re too cockdrunk to even care. You know you’ll cum soon, especially when Luke’s fucking you at such a brutal pace there’s a tingling that’s spreading from your toes all the way to your spine. You clench around Luke’s cock, only soaking your thighs further as more arousal coats his covered length. 

“Baby, fuck,” Luke’s voice is strained, one hand detaching from your hip to grab at your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers, craning your neck upwards until his masked mouth settles near your ear. “You’re fuckin’ soakin’ my cock, Y/N. Wonder what Mark would think if he found me buried in this sweet little pussy, huh? Think he’d be jealous? Of how desperate you are for me?”

“Oh my god-“ You know it’s coming, your legs feel like static and your head is spinning. Your vision’s beginning to blur as the beginning of your orgasm starts to crash over you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Luke-“

“Call me sir,” He’s fucking relentless, pounding into you like he’s got something to prove. It’s messy and slippery and wet, echoing the small room. “Call me sir and you can cum, Y/N.”

“Oh sir, oh my god sir-“

“Come on baby, that’s it, cum all over my cock,” Luke coaxes you, breathing warmly against the skin of your neck. Your nails scratch desperately on the desk as you finally let go, letting out a long string of pleading moans as you finish, clenching tightly around him. “Oh christ- Y/N- yeah, that’s my good girl.”

“Oh my god..” Luke doesn’t stop even after you’ve finished, snapping his hips more forcefully than before. 

“Fuck, gonna cum,” Luke pants out. “Wanna cum all over your pretty face. Can I? Please baby, want it so bad.”

“Ye-yeah,” You half mumble, half moan. 

Your body’s in Luke’s hands as he quickly slips out of you, discarding the condom and wrapping a hand around himself, helping you slink back until you’re on your knees. Confused, you’re unable to question why you’re facing the wrong way until Luke’s hand is on your jaw and tilting your head backwards. 

And that’s a fucking view. It’s upside down, Luke’s masked face staring down at you as his hand works furiously over his leaking, hard cock, groaning and panting. “Fuck, open your mouth.”

You comply, happily letting your tongue fall flat over your lower lip, eyelashes fluttering until you hear a low, guttural groan from Luke’s throat, painting your cheeks and lips and eyelashes in pretty ropes of milky white. 

“Ohhh fuck,” Luke’s strokes slow, milking himself until every last drop is coating some part of your face. “Fuck Y/N… you look so goddamn pretty covered in my cum.”

What doesn’t stay on your face ends up dribbling onto your t-shirt. You don’t really care at the moment, fucked dumb as you curiously swipe your tongue along anywhere you can reach to taste Luke’s release. You let out a soft, pleased and rasped, “Thank you, sir.”

Luke finds some tissues to clean you up, helping you slide your underwear and jeans back on. Once you’ve regained your breath, and began the short trip back to reality, you feel your cheeks grow stupidly hot. Luke slips his mask off. 

“Where the hell is Mark?” he asks curiously. 

“That’s what you’re worried about?” You ask in a soft voice. You really want to ask what this means, the two of you hooking up like this. Was he actually into you or using that as an excuse to get in your pants? 

“He’s like thirty minutes late,” Luke shrugs, running a hand through his flattened curls. “Why? What’re you worried about?”

Your mouth clasps shut. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” You turn away, busying yourself with the paperwork you’d brought inside with you. “I have more recording sessions to do. And you probably have somewhere to be.”

“Y/N..” Luke frowns. 

“What?” You snap unintentionally, turning to face Luke with narrowed eyes. “What, Luke?”

“This wasn’t like..” he trails off, looking a bit nervous. It almost makes you feel bad for snapping at him like that. “A one-time thing for me, Y/N. I.. I’m into you.”

“Really?” You ask softly. “You’re not just saying that because I let you.. fuck me?”

“No,” Luke slips out a short chuckle, stepping towards you. “No, I told you m’obsessed with you. This only makes it worse. You’re not getting rid of me.”

“We can talk about this after my recording sessions, alright Hemmings?” Your lips lift into a soft, almost shy smile. Luke does the same, his eyes hopeful. 

“Maybe over dinner?” He asks. 

“Pick me up at six.” You counter. 

Luke dips to press a soft kiss against your cheek. “Text me your address. I’ll go figure out where Mark is and kick his ass for being late.”

You roll your eyes. “If he would’ve been on time that wouldn’t have ended well for both of us, Hemmings,” Luke’s halfway out the door, pausing and turning to you with a sly grin. “What? What is it?”

“Someone left the recording light on. No wonder Mark didn’t bother,” Luke chuckles, amused. “Hey.. I wonder what else we did by accident..” His eyes flicker towards the sound table’s knobs and buttons, your own widening in fear. Which switches were off before? You hadn’t paid attention to anything when your chest was pressed against it. Fuck, what if you-

You turn to reprimand Luke for putting that thought into your head but he’s gone. Before you text Mark, letting him know that you’re available to record, you double check the recording logs for anything out of the ordinary. With pink cheeks, you text Luke your address and a vague note. 

you: [123 Main St]

you: also.. seems we might’ve had an accident. 

you: file.mp3

[nattikay]

Jake is a Good Dad and I will Die On That Hill

Howdy Avatar fandom. Over the past six months or so I’ve seen a lot of criticism directed toward Jake Sully as a father, ranging from him simply being a little too strict at best, to outright neglectful and even abusive at worst. This, my friends, is some grade-A nonsense, and today we’re gonna talk about why. Strap in, lads, this is gonna be a long one. Let’s roll.

So before we get into breaking down the events of the main storyline, let’s address the idea that Jake was always the super-strict “military dad” throughout the kids’ lives: put simply, bullcrap.

Out of the film’s over-three-hour runtime, we get to see very little of the Sullies’ lives before the RDA’s return—only about six minutes’ worth. If Jake was meant to be this strict militaristic dictator during this time period, especially in a way that would significantly impact the kids’ character development and their relationships with him, this would be the time to show it, or at least hint at it. But instead of any of that, we really get quite the opposite. Jake laughs and plays with the kids:

Jokes around and cuddles:

Teaches Neteyam to fish:

He even says in his narration:

“Happiness is simple…whoever thought that a jarhead like me could’ve cracked the code?”

Guys, this is quite literally the best time of his life. This man absolutely adores his family with every fiber of his being, they are his whole world. Like, look at him! He has stars in his eyes!!

We have zero reason to suspect that Jake was overly harsh or strict in a way that would impede his relationship with his kids during this time. The Sullies appear to be a normal, healthy, close-knit family. 

It’s only when the RDA returns and reignites war that things change. 

I’ve seen some people claim that Jake’s personality changed it the second movie. I disagree—it was not his personality that changed, but rather his priorities. 

A1 Jake was a disabled marine vet who was offered his brother’s contract after said brother was unexpectedly murdered by some thug on the street…and part of the reason he agreed to take that contract was that there really wasn’t much else left for him back on Earth, so why not go? A1 Jake had just about nothing left to lose, and therefore could afford to be more reckless.

A2 Jake, however, is another story altogether. A2 Jake can’t just run around poking and prodding and taking risks like A1 Jake did because now he has a wife and four children who rely on him and who he loves more than anything else in the world. It’s not just himself he has to look out for anymore, it’s them. He now has everything to lose. He says as much himself:

Not to mention that he’s older now. Did you really expect the 37-year-old father of four who’s been leading the clan for 15 years and is suddenly thrust back into a brutal war to behave exactly the same as the 22-year-old fish-out-of-water ex-marine sent to fill in for his scientist brother out of the sheer convenience of sharing a genome? A2 Jake’s behavior is not a sudden 180 from his personality in A1, it’s a natural progression and reaction for his character given the changed circumstances. 

“A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.”

This is essentially Jake’s thesis for the movie. This is his #1 priority, his purpose, the lens through which all his actions must be viewed in order to understand them, and it’s important to establish it upfront because it sets up everything else.

With that in mind, let’s take a look at the train raid sequence as its aftermath. Jake begrudgingly allows his now-teenage sons to participate in the war party—from a distance, as spotters. Neteyam seems content to fill this role, but Lo’ak, against orders, eagerly insists that they “have to get in there”, even goading his brother: 

Tailed by an exasperated Neteyam, Lo’ak grabs a weapon from Tarsem and lets out a half-hearted warcry:

...let’s be honest here, Lo’ak doesn’t really seem to be taking this raid anywhere near as seriously as he should be; he’s treating it more like a game—on which point, y’know what, let’s pause to talk about Lo’ak for a moment.

Because the primary purpose of this post is defending Jake, it may at times appear that I am being overly critical towards Lo’ak. This is not my intention—I love Lo’ak as much as I love the rest of the Sully family (which is a lot lol). I think the things he struggles with are reasonable and valid struggles to have considering his circumstances. However, that does not always mean that he is in the “right”. Jake and Lo’ak’s conflict through the movie is not as simple as “son right dad wrong” or vice-versa; rather, it stems from a generational/age gap in experience and priorities. 

In this case, for example, Lo’ak is treating the raid more like a cool action game than a real battle with real stakes. Which may not be much of a surprise—he’s 14! He’s young, he’s naive, he’s never experienced anything close to real war until the past year or so—he probably genuinely does not fully grasp the stakes of this situation just yet. And why should we expect him to, really? He’s never had to before.

Jake, on the other hand, knows the stakes all too well. This ain’t his first rodeo. He was a solider both on Earth (where he was injured severely enough to become paralyzed from the waist down) and then again on Pandora driving out the RDA in a battle that killed several of his friends and allies, including almost completely wiping out the entire Olangi clan. 

Jake understands the risks of war and doesn’t want his kids anywhere near it. We see this not only in the film where he only allows Neteyam and Lo’ak to participate in the raid “from a distance” and ultimately fleeing his own clan altogether once his kids are directly threatened, but also in the comics in which he consistently turns down Neteyam’s pleadings to participate in the war efforts. Unfortunately for him, his sons do happen to be coming of age at around this time and there’s only so much he can do to keep them out of it, so he tries to let them participate in relatively safe ways, like as spotters.

Lo’ak…doesn’t understand this. Not really. And that leads to him recklessly taking unnecessary risks—be it out of curiosity, to get in on the action, or even simply to prove himself. Which understandably scares the crap out of Jake.

When the raid is over, Jake desperately searches the rubble for his sons. He finds Lo’ak quickly and makes sure he’s alright:

…before taking off to search for Neteyam, who he also promptly checks over for injuries. 

which is something I’d like to point out here: although Jake sometimes gets gruff with his sons, he never leads with that. He always always always makes sure they’re ok first. That’s important. We’ll come back to it throughout the post.

Anyways, it’s only after making sure that Neteyam is ok that Jake’s initial bout of fear subsides and morphs into frustration and anger: what were you thinking?! And it’s a fair question. If the boys had followed orders, they wouldn’t have been at such risk in the first place. Once the party returns to High Camp, Jake addresses this point with them, reminding them that by disobeying direct orders they put themselves in very serious danger, and reiterating to Lo’ak in particular that his recklessness nearly got his brother killed and grounding him.

In other words, Jake’s response to his sons going against his orders was…a lecture and a grounding. That’s…a pretty reasonable parental reaction, actually. Sure, you could nitpick and say his tone was too harsh, but given the situation, I struggle to blame him…

…which leads into the next relevant scene: while Mo’at and Kiri tend to Neteyam’s scratches, Neytiri gently chides Jake for being too hard on the boys, concluding with the infamous line: “This is not a squad. It is a family.”

Now, what I find interesting about this scene is that neither party is really in the wrong here. Jake is doing his best to fill his role as a father by watching out for his kids’ physical safety—even if it means being a little strict. Likewise, Neytiri is filling her role as a mother by looking out for her kids’ emotional well-being. As she should!

That said, I think people who use this line as proof of Jake’s supposed parental failure are forgetting the context. While Neytiri’s line is true in general, when the boys sign up to participate in a war party, they kinda do become a “squad”. In that moment, in that context, they are a squad, they have to behave like one lest someone gets hurt if not killed. 

I also think they forget Jake’s reaction to Neytiri’s line:

Look closely. There are tears in his eyes. This dude was terrified of the possibility that he may have just lost one of his sons in the raid, and all his strictness stems from that. And Neytiri seems to recognize this as well, as she can’t seem to decide how to respond. She probably worries about the same thing, after all, even if she handles it differently. 

On that note, let’s look at the next time Lo’ak disobeys instructions: going to the old shack with Spider, Kiri, and Tuk, where they first encounter the recom unit. 

Something interesting about the aftermath of the recom rescue is that no one gets lectured this time actually. Remember what I said about how, no matter how upset he is, Jake always checks to make sure the kids are ok first and foremost? Sure enough, that’s what he does here:

Not only for his daughters, mind you, but also both his sons (we’ll address the daughter-favoritism claims later):

With the recoms now targeting the Sully family specifically, Jake, feeling out of other options, makes the difficult decision to flee and find refuge among the Metkayina clan. 

whoops, there’s that “protection” theme again

When their request for sanctuary is somewhat reluctantly accepted, Jake calls a family meeting and tells the kids this:

Remember how earlier we established how “a father protects” is essentially Jake’s thesis for this movie? Well, this is an offshoot of that: Jake believes that hiding amongst the Metkayina is currently the best was to keep his family safe; therefore, throughout the Sullies’ time with the clan, Jake’s primary goal is to lay low and get along with the clan so as not to tread on their hospitality and get kicked out (even if and when that means setting aside one’s own pride). This, then, is the lens through which Jake’s actions must be analyzed while his family is staying with the Metkayina.

The first time this becomes relevant is after Neteyam and Lo’ak’s little scrap defending Kiri from Aonung and his posse. Jake is clearly not thrilled about Kiri being bullied, but again, his top priority is keeping his family safe and right now this entails maintaining a good standing with the chief, which in turns means that his sons getting into brawls with Tonowari’s son is a very bad look. Which is why, after a moment of internal conflict, he asks Lo’ak to apologize to Aonung (he even tries to explain when Lo’ak protests:)

On that note, while remaining on good terms with the clan has to take precedence at this moment, Jake is clearly quietly proud of his boys for kicking butt, as we see from his exchange with Neteyam (though yes, it is unfortunate that Lo’ak didn’t get to see this bit).

…which brings us to one of the bigger moments that people point to when accusing Jake of being a bad father: the “you bring shame to this family” line. Now, I can understand why this line doesn’t sit right with viewers initially, especially since we have just seen firsthand the truth about what Lo’ak experienced over the past few hours. However, when you consider what’s going on from Jake’s perspective, the line is not quite as unreasonable as it first seems.

Let’s back up a bit to when Lo’ak first returns to the village after meeting Payakan. At first Jake is just relieved that his son is ok (remember: he always checks first)

In fact, once it’s clear that Lo’ak is ok, it seems Jake just wanted to let it go and head home…the real conflict didn’t begin until after Lo’ak lied to take the blame for Aonung.

Up until this moment, Jake only knew Aonung’s side of the story, that he’d taken Lo’ak outside the reef and he got stranded there (it’s unclear whether Aonung specifies that he abandoned him out there on purpose, the little punk, but I digress). But when Tonowari (rightfully) declares Aonung’s responsibility for the incident, Lo’ak speaks up to take the fall, claiming that the whole ordeal was all his idea, which Aonung had tried to talk him out of.

Lo’ak does not have a reputation for lying…but he does have a reputation for pulling reckless stunts that put himself and others in danger, so for better or for worse, Jake has literally zero reason not to believe this claim. 

In other words, for Jake, the situation has just gone from “my son got taken advantage of by the local bullies and put into a precarious situation but he’s home safe now” to “my son dragged a bunch of other kids to a dangerous location where he knows he’s not supposed to go despite the chef’s son trying to talk him out of it, endangering both his life and theirs, getting lost in the process, and thereby worrying and inconveniencing the entire clan on whose hospitality we rely by making them go out of their way to arrange a whole search party in the dead of night just to find him.”

…yeah, no wonder he was flippin’ ticked. No wonder he “didn’t want to hear it” when Lo’ak tries to explain that he was “only trying to make friends”. We as the audience know that’s true, of course, but as far as Jake knows in that moment, based on what Lo’ak himself claimed just moments ago, he was trying to “make friends” by…dragging them out to a dangerous location despite their protests thus jeopardizing both his and their lives as well as his family’s standing in the clan who can kick them out at any time. Yeah, I wouldn’t want to “hear it” either.

When you look at it from that perspective, “you brought shame to this family” doesn’t really seem quite as extreme, does it?

And yes, I feel for Lo’ak here, really, I do; he’s just been through a lot and yes based on the actual events that just occurred his father’s anger is the last thing the poor kid needs and I totally get why it would upset him…but at the same time, I can’t help feeling that he kinda brought this particular lecture on himself by voluntarily taking the blame for Aonung. Not really sure what he was expecting: that Jake would somehow read his mind and understand the way things actually went? That he would see through his lie and praise him for being so amiable towards Aonung by taking the fall perhaps similar to how Neteyam so often claims the blame for Lo’ak’s own reckless shenanigans despite how rude Aonung had been to him thus far? Or perhaps he just blurted out the blame claim as an olive branch of sorts to Aonung (genuinely trying to “make friends” in a way) without really thinking about the consequences of doing so. Who knows. But regardless of how Lo’ak did or didn’t think things would go, I think it’s a little unfair to blame Jake for his reaction. Based on his knowledge of the circumstances, which in turn were based on Lo’ak’s own account given only moments before (remember, Jake had zero reason to suspect he was lying), his reaction is actually pretty understandable.

Speaking of Lo’ak’s adventures with Payakan, the next time we see him clash with his father is when Tonowari lectures him for bonding with the outcast, and Lo’ak defends his new friend. Remember: Jake’s top priority is keeping his family safe which currently means not getting kicked out of the Metkayina. Lo’ak, regardless of whether or not he was in the right, was clearly upsetting Ronal and Tonowari in this exchange—Neytiri is actually the first to step in and warn her son:

…and when Lo’ak persists anyways, Jake has to step in in hopes of smoothing things over with the chief. 

It sucks that this upset Lo’ak, especially because we the audience know that Lo’ak is right about Payakan, but again, Jake is currently more concerned with not getting kicked out of the clan than with his son winning an argument about the validity of a tulkun’s outcast status.

.

...aaaand here comes the hardest part of this essay to write. Admittedly I wasn’t aware of this argument until recently, but now that I know it’s out there I feel obligated to address it here. Apparently some folks are out there claim that Jake did not display a sufficient amount of emotion at Neteyam’s death, and this somehow proves that he wasn’t as attached to his sons as he should have been. And all I have to say to that is: did we watch the same movie?? 

That man broke upon his son’s death. Did he wail and cry like Neytiri, no, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t heartbroken—wailing and crying simply aren’t how his character responds to trauma. He’s a solider, he’s probably trained to delay any external breakdown at least until a given battle is over.

But you can still see it in his face. You can hear it in his voice which breaks and shudders when he realizes that Neteyam is dying and tries to give him a few last words of comfort, wanting so desperately to ease his pain to the best of his abilities. 

...yeah. This man is broken in this moment.

…but his job isn’t over yet. The battle is still raging. He still has three more kids who still need him. As much as he may want to, he cannot take the time to fully grieve in this moment.

…which brings us to the big one, the main line people point to when arguing that Jake is a bad father:

Now, let’s be honest: was this an awful thing to say? Yes, absolutely. Should Jake apologize to Lo’ak for it after the fact, if he hasn’t already? Definitely, one-hundred-percent. I’m not disputing that in the least.

however…

In this moment, Jake has just spent the past however-long locked in a vicious battle, and hardly minutes before watched his firstborn son bleed out in his arms. And now he learns that his daughters—one of whom is a pre-pubescent child with no chance of defending herself—are still caught on the “demon ship” with the recoms, who have just very clearly proven that they have absolutely no qualms with killing these kids. Quaritch taunting in his ear certainly is not helping. 

The only thing Jake could properly focus on in that moment was getting Kiri and Tuk off that boat. Repeat: he wants to get his kids OFF the demon ship, not risk bringing any of them back ON. On top of that, Lo’ak, as established very early on in the film (see: train raid), has a reputation for struggling to follow orders…even when not emotionally devastated by the death of his brother. 

All these things considered, is it really any wonder that Jake did not want Lo’ak coming along on this mission? He’s already lost one son, why in the ever-loving flip flap would he want to risk losing the other by intentionally bringing him back to the danger zone with no guarantee he’ll come out again, especially given his apparent propensity to ignore orders and throw himself into danger? 

Heck, the only reason he lets Spider come is that Spider knows where the girls are and, unlike Lo’ak, Spider doesn’t have that same reckless reputation. Spider, in that moment, appears to be able to compartmentalize the fresh trauma well enough to focus on the task at hand, and can be trusted to do as Jake asks. Lo’ak…can’t. So, Jake wants him to stay behind.

Did he express it horribly? Absolutely. But saying one stupid insensitive thing in a moment of numbness underlaid by grief, pain, and fear does not make him a horrible dad overall, and I think it’s a little unfair to say that it does.

On that note, I do not believe for one moment that Jake genuinely blames Lo’ak for Neteyam’s death. Now, Lo’ak may well view it that way and I’m sure it’ll come into play for his character arc in future movies, which can be a topic for another day, but as for Jake’s perspective, no. I don’t think he truly blames Lo’ak. Even if he couldn’t necessarily process it all right away, I think he knows that Lo’ak is going through as much heartbreak as the rest of the family…especially given that Jake himself has firsthand experience losing a brother. He just said something dumb in a moment of pain.

(On the topic of Lo’ak being unable to follow orders, less than five minutes after Jake, Neytiri, and Spider leave for the ship, Lo’ak…immediately disobeys the order to stay safe on the island and heads back out to the ship anyways. Obviously in the grand scheme of things it’s good that he was there to save Jake from drowning after the scuffle with Quaritch, but still, good gracious son. Way to spectacularly prove your dad’s point.) 

So now we come to the point where Lo’ak saves Jake’s life. After a mutual choke-out with Quaritch, Jake is left to drown until Lo’ak finds him and pulls him to the surface, at which point he gasps for air and chokes out Neteyam’s name. 

This can be interpreted in a few ways. It could be that Jake is so accustomed to Neteyam being the “responsible” one that he irrationally thought it was him coming to the rescue, momentarily forgetting he had died or somehow thinking maybe by some stroke of fate he pulled through after all—this seems to be Lo’ak’s assumption, given that he promptly corrects him.

Now, some may take Jake’s “oh, Lo’ak…” as a show of favoritism, or proof that Jake values his first son above his second. I don’t think this is the case though—I don’t think Jake’s apparent disappointment is about Lo’ak being there so much it’s about Neteyam not being there. In other words, it’s not a personal slight against or disappointment in Lo’ak, but rather a form of still-very-raw grief for Neteyam who, remember, only just died, like, an hour ago.

It could also be that Jake is still so distraught following Neteyam’s death that it’s consuming his thoughts…he was able to shove it down and compartmentalize long enough to fight the recoms and get Tuk and Kiri off the boat, but that compartmentalization broke down while he was literally drowning and it took him a minute to focus and put things back together (which he manages to do a moment later when Lo’ak tries to apologize for his brother’s death):

The most excruciating interpretation I’ve seen is Jake thinking he had drowned and is rejoining Neteyam in the afterlife. ouch. Though that is, of course, just speculation.

Regardless, at this point Jake has just about given up. He’s exhausted, he’s in agony, both physically and emotionally. He’s completely drained. He wants Lo’ak to live but is ready to give up on himself (“I can’t make it. You can.”). It’s only when Lo’ak insists: 

 ...that Jake realizes he still needs to press forward. Because his other kids still need him. His other son still needs him and he’s not willing to give up on him. So he takes a deep breath (literally), puts his trust in Lo’ak, and lets his son lead him through the flooded passageways out of the wreck. When they finally break the surface, we have this lovely moment:

This moment is a resolution to one of Lo’ak’s primary emotional conflicts throughout the movie: living in the shadow of his legendary war hero father and prodigious older brother, finally getting the recognition and affirmation he so craved from that father. Some might argue that in terms of “ideal” parenting that this kind of moment should have come sooner, or that Jake’s recognition of his son should never have been in doubt in the first place, and while there may be some truth to that, I struggle to really blame Jake for it for reasons I just spent the past 4000 words discussing. I think the fact that this moment happened at all shows that despite their clashes and struggles and miscommunications, Jake does and always has cared very deeply about Lo’ak; his lectures and frustrations come not out of malice or some personal distaste, but out of fear for his well-being.

We see Jake comforting Lo’ak again after the family returns to Neteyam’s body on the rocks.

 As I said before, I don’t think for even the briefest moment Jake genuinely blames Lo’ak for Neteyam’s death. I don’t think he would be comforting him like this if he did.

…which, I suppose, brings us to Neteyam’s funeral, and Jake and Neytiri visiting his spirit within Eywa. No parent should ever have to bury their child and good golly gracious this scene ripped my heart out but I digress. I don’t even really have a lot of commentary to add to these scenes…just…just this. It speaks for itself.

look me in the eye and tell me this man “doesn’t care about his sons”. I flipping DARE you.

.

Well, that concludes the debunking of scenes that supposedly make Jake a bad father. But before we go, let’s look just briefly at this scene of him being a good dad with Kiri. I didn’t mention this earlier because while I’ve seen a lot of complaints about Jake’s interactions with Neteyam and especially Lo’ak, few people have qualms with the way Jake treats Kiri and Tuk—in fact, many people claim that he shows favoritism to his daughters, going out of his way “baby” them and treat them more gently and lovingly than his sons. I disagree and hope the above has done a thorough job dispelling that notion: Kiri and Tuk don’t go around throwing themselves headlong into the same kind of danger that Neteyam and Lo’ak do. They aren’t begging to participate in battle, they aren’t disobeying orders that land them in mortal peril. 

In other words: Jake lectures his sons more than his daughters out of necessity, not nepotism. Remember: Jake’s #1 priority is protecting his family, keeping them all safe and alive. That means that when one of his kids pulls a stupid stunt that puts them in danger he feels the need to crack down on that in hopes of preventing it from happening again. Lo’ak is, quite frankly, prone to pulling those kind of stunts, so he gets lectured a lot. Kiri and Tuk do not typically pull such stunts, so they don’t get lectured. It’s as simple as that, really.

Buuuuuut now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s talk just briefly about Jake comforting Kiri.

Like with the scene of visiting Neteyam’s spirit, I don’t have much commentary to add to this scene—it’s a very sweet scene and it speaks for itself really. Jake is very gentle and doing his best to listen to Kiri, even if he is a little unsure about her claims. He doesn’t criticize or invalidate, he just tries to be there for her. What can I say, that’s a good dad right there ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

One last little point before we wrap up for real: the fact that Lo’ak and Neteyam occasionally refer to Jake as “sir”. I was originally planning to address this earlier but it didn’t quite fit in with the flow of the discussion and I consider it such a minor point anyways, I figured I could save it for a side note—but seriously, it baffles me what a big deal people make of this. 

It would be one thing if “sir” was something that Jake strictly enforced, if it was the only thing he allowed the kids to address him as, if one of them called him “Dad” and he barked back, “no! it is sir!” But…literally none of that is the case. He never explicitly asks them to call him “sir”, and they call him “Dad” just as often if not more.

The kids referring to Jake as “sir” in tense moments is a simple show of respect, nothing more. I recall my own dad also wanting to be called “sir” when we were in trouble and it was never really an issue. And I suppose your milage may vary depending on where you live, but growing up in the southern US, “sir” and “ma’am” are just very common basic courtesy in many situations (not just familial). 

Sooooo….yeah, the idea that Neteyam and Lo’ak occasionally calling Jake sir is somehow proof of Jake being too strict or cold or whatever else is really making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s not that deep y’all.

…aaaand I suppose that’s it for this post. 

In conclusion: 

Look guys, Jake does not have to be your favorite character. You don’t even have to like him, or agree with everything that he says or does. He isn’t perfect (which, by the way, literally no one is). But if nothing else, I hope this behemoth of a post has at least helped you understand his character and why he acts and reacts the way that he does.

Jake Sully may not be a shining beacon of parental perfection from a psychological development perspective (and all things considered, expecting him to be such is, quite frankly, a little silly), but good golly gracious he is trying his absolute darnedest in incredibly difficult and precarious circumstances beyond his control i.e. the RDA coming back to quite literally take over. This man’s family means absolutely everything to him and I’m done sitting back and watching y’all slander him just because he didn’t react to x situation the way you think he should have.

thank you and good night

[starzzmissthesun]

Hey guys, I feel the need to go into more depth about a post I made a while ago because I feel like some of y'all didn't get what I meant, and I see so many takes just like what I'm about to talk of. Ok, so I've been seeing lots of posts recently about bartylus being one of three things; fwb who don't actually have feelings for each other, being ex's, or 'the third thing'. I mean if you believe these things, no hate or anything to you, to each their own, but just listen to what my perspective is of this. I'm mainly making this post because most of the things I see in the bartylus tag are from the POV of those three things, it's annoying to see when there are people who actually ship them.

So for one, I really don't think they could have that romance and the physical aspect without having any feelings for eachother. I mean, think about it. They are truly best friends to no end, they love and see eachother different than everyone else. This is true in SO MANY fics and takes on them, no matter who they're paired with. They already act like an old married couple, so they would eventually catch feelings (if not already). I understand lots of people say that they could, just because its more of a trauma bond and being with someone you trust. I agree that they have been through a lot together and trust each other more than anyone, but I also think that it would turn into something more. Being so close would definitely make it hard to separate and see the line between their physical relation and how they feel for each other.

And my next point, which was what my og post was about, they couldnt be exes, especially if they were in love. The first thing is that they DO love eachother, you wouldn't date your BEST FRIEND if you weren't. I mean really, those two loved their other friends, they knew what it was like to love a friend platonically. If you are so used to being punished and criticized, you would have to be very aware of how you feel about people/recognizing the differences(this goes for both of them). Especially when you think about the social repercussions of them being gay in families like that, but also the way their families are so opposite that they would probably get in trouble for even being friends. They loved eachother a lot and would not just, get over each other. When you have something so special like that and remain best friends, its hard to fall out of love, especially if its not that long from them stopping that they get with other people. What even would change about them other than who they kiss? I feel like every time they were with their respective partners they would catch each others eyes every once in a while and think this is wrong. The kind of love they would have for each other (even if you believe this platonically) would be made of devotion and loyalty and reverence. They couldn't just get over each other, where would all of those feelings go? They just disapear? They turn platonic? No, they would stay, something so intense wouldnt just go away. What could they want that they couldn't find in each other? I mean back to the whole it being nothing more than the m being secret and because they trusted each other, i mean doesn't that just speak to the love they have for each other, which brings me to the point of them unable to be The Third ThingTM.

The third thing is the trope people use for tragic characters that were never just friends, but never quite romanitc. But the thing is, they both could never be casual about eachother, they hold each other so close and so sweetly, especially as a first (last and only) love, they would never let go. @dolcevitaaa26 made a post about this, and also said a big part of the trope is that the reason it's not quite romantic is because it's not enough, there's something missing. But, like i said, what could be missing/not enough in a relationship that is built upon true understanding and acceptance? They couldn't be vague, not with that person SO IMORTANT that theyd keep in their lives forever. And they would, if they didn't have each other theyd never stop thinking about each other. Even if they were Just Friends, they are each other's Person in every aspect. They understand each other in a way no one else could. How could you lose that person? How could you not hold them so close to your chest that you merge, that you are one? They are inseparable, it is indistinguishable where one begins and the other ends. They are definitely unique and different from what anyone else has, but in a way that would be perfect for eachother, it would be romantic if anything.

I mean all of these things given, especially the fact of being something so perfect for eachother, would be put before anyone else. If youre going to have them have exes within your ship, because at th end of the day ship what you want to, don't have it be with eachother. I just say that because the implications of that feel the same way of people making james date lily after reg dies, reg and barty wouldn't get over eachother. It's fine if you see them as totally platonic, but make them platonic, because they are not casual people, they couldn't be in between for each other. And do you reall want your ship to have one of them still loving another? Just some food for thouhgt. I could say more, but this is already too nonsensical and long.

[zeddylux]

I know I'm a little late to the party, meant to make this post yesterday but here we are. It's Arcane season at last baby!!! We've waited years for this and I know we're all excited but a few things to keep in mind for my page specifically.

1. I profoundly apologize to anyone who follows me for any other content it will simply be Arcane from now until probably into next year. I fully understand if you mute or unfollow me because of it.

2. We all know Netflix is being a massive cunt with password sharing so not everyone has access to the show. PLEASE TAG YOUR SPOILERS.

3. Please everyone be civil when discussing the very heavy themes involved in this show. If you cannot behave yourself in my comments and reblogs you will get blocked. End of discussion.

4. Just a few opinions I have specifically...I don't much care for Silco. I think his relationship with Jinx is very manipulative and creepy so keep that in mind if you choose to follow me. If you really like their relationship I'm probably going to make you mad. In addition Vi hate will not be tolerated. I know the shallow stupid opinions alot of you have about her character. Believe me I'm going to be fairly critical with how the series handles her transition (and hopefully later opposition) to being an enforcer as well as the revolutionary writing in general. But get your season 1 takes out of my face. Vi did not create Jinx. Stop it. Mel, Ambessa, Sevika, or Ekko hate will also NOT be tolerated. If you bring your racism and antiblackness to my discussions you will be blocked and reported. You have been warned.

5. As I mentioned above I will be fairly critical of how this season handles its political writing. I love Caitvi I do. They actually mean quite alot to me but I'll likely be the hardest on Cait this season. Speaking as an American there are alot of bad things going on here that she specifically represents and I'm hopeful and curious as to how the writing team chooses to handle her.

Other than that welcome to the discussion! I'll be watching the new season as soon as I'm able and I'm sure will be putting my rambling on here as I think of them. I've watched season one an ungodly amount of times I'm sure this season will be no different. I hope Netflix does these characters justice and I hope anyone who is new to this amazing series feels welcome and safe on my page to discuss. Let's fucking go!!!

Also this blog still stands with Palestine, Sudan, and Congo as well as all marginalized groups affected by fascism and imperialism around the world. Just gonna pin these rules for now!

[vanillabeenflower]

My Reimaginings for the HB/HH Rings + Hellborns

My ideas for a redesign of the setting and its inhabitants to have it make a little more sense! I'll put all this under the cut so it won't be too long on the dashboard:

Okay! So, I've noticed QUITE a few slight discrepancies between some of the rings. I wanted to share how I would do it, based on some critiques I've seen. This is in no way anything negative, I just want to share how I would do it. With that in mind, know that I tend to be a bit blunt with my criticism but know that it's out of me thinking that it would be the obvious option, personally, and not out of any rudeness.

The Flaws

I want you to know that I in no way know anything about demonology, but I do know a bit about Dante's Divine Comedy and the emotions associated with colors. I'm going to go down the list in the show's order, one by one, and then give my versions at the end.

First is the Pride Ring, where the main cast of both shows reside. Now, I want to point this out: why are ALL of the sinners only confined to this ring? That doesn't even make sense from a biblical retelling perspective. Didn't the entire journey through Inferno show that there were sinners on every level of Hell?

Anyway, first off, I really don't see this as the Pride Ring. I expected this to be the Wrath Ring, which is what I thought until I saw the actual Wrath Ring. There's this thing called "color psychology", which is the study of how colors influence emotions or give clues to the atmosphere of someplace. Historically, purple has always meant royalty and wealth, since it was the most expensive color to dye your clothes in. I think that would be a more fitting color for the Pride Ring. As for the design, It's cool, but doesn't say Pride. It says New York, which I think would be the opposite of Pride.

Next is the Wrath Ring, which looks great. I have no actual criticism of the ring's design itself since it fits really well. I like the volcanic elements and the fiery sunset sky, and the fact that it's where many hell beasts/animals reside makes sense. Also, it is mainly rural and has fire-related weather (flaming tornadoes) which also makes sense. I have no fixes for this. Good work!

The Gluttony Ring is the same way. I appreciate the fact that the sky has hexagonal shapes in it (not shown above) and that it's mainly plant life since the actual Beelzebub is an insect, and most people associate insects with being outside. There are a few things I'd change, like pushing the plant aspects a bit and having the buildings look more like various insect nests, not just beehives, maybe a few dens or plant-inspired buildings (I really like how Zootopia's world is built because it was made with the builders in mind: animals. Since they use organic structures in real life for their homes, they made some buildings have a curvature that fit their "ancestor" instincts, it even extended to their cars at one point. I highly recommend reading The Art of Zootopia to see their creative process with a bit more polished language).

Okay, why did they make the Greed Ring green?? Everyone knows that green is the universal color of Envy, so why is it here? I get that making it green works much better than any other color, and I agree, it does look better, and it's the same color of money, but I have an alternate idea. Make the Greed Ring yellow.

This might not sound like a good choice, but here's my reasoning. I love that the Greed Ring is a polluted, overly industrial cityscape, that fits amazingly. But if you look at real-life smog-filled cities, what color are they?

Yellow. Or at least a dirty, dark yellow-brown. So what I'm saying is that you don't even need to make it a bright yellow, making it a dark yellow-brown would really show how filthy the Greed Ring is. Also yellow is the color of gold so it also makes sense symbolically.

I have my gripes with the Lust Ring. Why is it dark blue?? The color symbolism was right there, pink and red are the most associated colors with lust!

However, I do like the fact that it's always night in the Lust Ring, it's very symbolic of the "nightlife" aspect of the emotion. I just don't know why they chose a normal sky color over something else.

I am a sucker for good color combinations, but I don't really think making the night sky dark blue made sense. It doesn't even have to be a drastic change, just shift the night sky's color to the warmer side a bit. If the ring does have a day and night cycle, and I'm just stupid, make the day go from hot pink to light pink from top to bottom, then have the night sky go from red/magenta to hot pink, with white stars (or just make the sky a lighter version of those two options). It would look mega pretty!!

The Envy Ring is one we haven't seen yet, but I wonder what we'll get since we already used up our green card with the Greed Ring. Someone I was talking about this with said that since the Envy Ring is ruled over by Leviathan, the ring will be ocean-themed and blue, like the ocean. I like that idea since sea blue is, in fact, a real color (and I also think that those 2 twins from the Mammon episode are from there, because of the way they acted and since they are fish-themed), and the theme fits. But the problem is. Sea green is a real color too.

Wait, this was the Sloth Ring?? I assumed this was part of the Lust Ring because of the colors, and because I was holding onto some hope of the color psychology making sense!

But. I LOVE this ring. The more pastel color of the ring actually relaxed my eyes a bit, which I think was the intention. I love the floating islands and the waterfalls, it all gives off a very relaxing atmosphere. My only design change would be to change the sky to a color like baby blue since blue as a color is actually scientifically proven to reduce feelings of stress and anger.

My Rendition

Now that we have all that out of the way, here's my version of how I would've done things.

I would match the colors of the rings to their corresponding color. I would arrange them in the way that they are in the show, but we'd risk that cool rainbow gem order up top. But if we want to arrange them in rainbow order, they'd be inaccurate to the order of the rings in Inferno (I think??), so you can choose which order you'd like, I'm just doing this for myself. Also I realize that they aren't really based on the nine levels of Hell, but the 7 Deadly Sins, which is fine by me, I find that making more sense.

Red = Wrath (an obvious choice, since red signifies strength, danger, and actually stimulates energy in real life)

Orange = Gluttony (it just makes more sense than yellow, plus if we're assuming the bee motif, it's the actual color of refined honey)

Yellow = Greed (color of gold and matches the smoggy city it's depicted as)

Green = Envy (another obvious choice, plus since Leviathan rules over this ring, it would match the ocean aesthetic as sea green)

Baby Blue = Sloth (soft blues actually cause a relaxed response in the brain)

Purple = Pride (color of royalty, also associated with arrogance and wealth)

Pink/Hot Pink = Lust (OBVIOUS CHOICE)

The Hellborns

Now my headcanons on what the overall citizens of each ring would be. I actually have an idea for slight species dimorphism for all the imps in each ring but I'll have to design that another day. I want my rainbow imps dammit

The Wrath Ring would have the highest imp concentration, with any other demon species being the lowest here. Imps who are born here are red in color, about the same shades of red that we see in all imps in-show.

The inhabitants of the Gluttony Ring should be bug/insect demons since the ruler of the ring is literally an insect. Imps born here are shades of orange.

The Greed Ring would have those shark demons seen in Exes & Oohs, but someone I was chatting with said it would make more sense for all the aquatic demons to be in the Envy Ring, so I don't know. Imps here are born in shades of yellow.

The Envy Ring would have mainly fish/aquatic-themed demons. Imps born here are shades of green.

The Sloth Ring should make the demons there have more themes of ungulates or ruminant animals like goats, sheep, and pigs because Baphomet is not a demon species. Imps born here are shades of blue.

The Pride Ring is where demon royalty mainly resides. Imps are rarely born here and if they are, they're usually born into servitude. Imps born in this ring are purple.

The Lust Ring is where incubi and succubi live (like Verosika). Imps born here are shades of pink.

For Hellhounds, I think they should be found in all rings rather than mainly in the Gluttony Ring. Even though the reason that's where they are is because Cerberus apparently guards this ring is very clever, it doesn't make that much sense. I also think they should all be grayscale and have their eyes correspond to the color of which ring they were born in (I love achromatic color schemes with one bright color to add color to it).

Anyway, those are my thoughts! I hope you enjoyed this interpretation of mine!

[honeycreammilkshake]

you can't be talking proshipper. ew.

if you actually read the manga, you should be able to acknolwedge that Gojo is a flawed character, and although egoistical, he isn't some sort of apathetic monster you make him out to be LMFAO - he does care about his students safety as well as their opinions... i could list so many... and strives to be better. your arguments sucks ass.

ur community too - gosh get some actual dick or something

wdym actual dick? what does that have to do with anything? i'm not sure how you think dick equates to anything i ever talked about.

i have read the manga and seen most of the anime, so you're incorrect.

i never thought of gojo as some kind of monster - all i was referring to was that he has really unhealthy and bad traits just like many of the others in the jjk world. but unlike gojo, so many people want to only criticize these other characters, like mai zenin. just because she's confident and egotistical people hate her, when gojo has some of the very same traits.

i admit i portrayed him pretty harshly in my analysis, but that's only because i didn't include all his good qualities too. if i gave a more balanced blend of both, you'll see that i never actually changed anything up from how it is in canon, just chose to focus on one thing more than another. he's literally described as an antihero and he himself was close to becoming a villain in the past, so i think that surely indicates he has the compacity to do things we would consider problematic.

he has a lot of apathy for others - not everyone. as i said, he had a very close relationship with geto and some of his students and fellow sorcerers as well. he doesn't care much for those he considers beneath him though. you can't deny that he's willing to sacrifice the lives of innocents for his own agenda, even if that agenda does appear to be the right thing.

also don't bash my whole "community" just because of one post i made. these are my own individual opinions and thoughts, and they should not be equated with everyone in my community.. whatever tf you meant by that. what community??

you're part of the problem by not acknowledging that others' opinions can be different from your own. i never said i thought gojo was a bad character or unworthy of fans liking him. quite the opposite, i made sure to clearly address only people like you who don't let other fans have their own thoughts on the matter.

so yeah. learn to maybe read something fully and actually understand what is meant before you make assumptions.

[thevelaryons]

Am I the only one who doesn’t get why Corlys is acting foolishly in Hotd? He’s supposed to be a really intelligent political figure in this story (F&B) but the decisions he makes (Hotd) are the opposite of intelligently sound. Ngl I hate how he bends over backwards to go to war for Rhaenyra when he was complaining about her just before.

This is actually one of my criticisms of how Corlys has been portrayed in the show. I’m on mobile right now (and Tumblr search function sucks on the app) so I can’t link them, but I actually have a couple of old posts about this. The show has changed several key aspects of Corlys’ characterization so now a lot of his actions make him appear politically inconsistent, especially with actions he’s supposed to take later on in the story.

Like you said, it makes no sense for show!Corlys to be supporting Rhaenyra. He DIRECTLY blames her for his son’s death and yet despite his complaints, he prepared his fleet and even helps make war plans for her. This is all without Rhaenyra offering him anything in return, like making him Hand. Meanwhile, when book!Corlys INDIRECTLY blamed Rhaenyra for his wife’s death, several concessions have to be made to appease him and get him back on her side. Nor does Corlys tolerate any harm done to his family: he wants vengeance for Laenor’s death, he commits treason against Rhaenyra to protect Addam, he commits treason against Aegon II to protect Baela.

In terms of show!Corlys’ political intelligence, he doesn’t really display much. Moments he has in the book were removed in season 1 (and based on the leaks I’ve read for season 2, other aspects of Corlys’ story that show him as a political power won’t be in the show). In the bts material for the show, it’s actually said that Corlys doesn’t really understand politics much but he fares better on the battlefield. And that is where the problem lies.

You can also see a similar sort of change with other Velaryon characters. Laenor’s entire characterization was changed. Show version of Laenor is depicted as someone who goes as far as to abandon his family and dragon because he craves the violence of the battlefield more. Some of the things he says on the show are very reminiscent of a display of toxic masculinity + him having internalized homophobia which his book counterpart was not even implied to have. Show version of Addam and Alyn are unnecessarily aged up and might already be battle hardened soldiers from the Stepstones, instead of being innocent young boys who know nothing of war (and that’s actually quite relevant to their story arcs).

HOTD showrunners have made many changes to characterizations. But in the case of certain characters, those changes seem to be based on racist stereotypes. Similarly to how show!Laena got reduced to a fast black girl/unwanted wife who’s violent death is meant to serve the story of Rhaenyra (a white character) there are actually several aspects of Corlys and Laenor’s stories that were changed to uplift the white characters around them. The essence of their characterization in the show is altered. As I’ve mentioned before in another post, the black male characters in House of the Dragon are depicted as more hypermasculine, violent figures than their white book counterparts in Fire & Blood.

So yes, Corlys is meant to be an intelligent character but the show reduces that aspect greatly to depict him as more violent than his book counterpart. Show version of Corlys participates in the Stepstones through engaging in physical battles. Book version of Corlys does so through tactical command of his ships. Show version of Corlys returns back to the Stepstones to participate in more battles. Book version of Corlys does not (it’s actually Daemon that sticks around in the Stepstones). Based on leaks for season 2, if those leaks turn out to be true, then show version of the character will continue to be portrayed as more a soldier used to commit acts of violence than a politician who can act very intelligently to outmaneuver his opposition.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #19] Send To All

warnings: plot stuff!! no smut!!! another cw: jiyeong lol

a/n: this header not being square drives me insane and i could fix it but reuploads are laborious enough as it is lol

soundtrack: self-sabotage - waterparks (this is one of THE bd songs for me hehe)

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

If time flies when you're having fun, then you think it's fair to say you're having the worst day of your life.

Okay, so that's a little dramatic, but your shift has been excruciatingly slow; the hands of the clock above the door taunting you every time you glance in its direction. Admittedly, you are looking at it every 10 seconds or so,  which is making it a hell of a lot more disappointing than it really ought to be.

From the desk, Hoseok watches you with sympathetic intrigue. You've cleaned the same empty table four times now just for something to do. Work is quiet, so distractions are limited.

You had only picked up an extra shift so you that didn't have to spend the entire afternoon letting your imagination run wild thinking about Jeongguk's date - but apparently, your mind didn't get the memo.

The thoughts trundle around your boardgame brain; passing 'go', collecting £200. It skips over the chance card tiles, and opts out of buying anything other than Mayfair. It's the only property you want, and yet you never seem to land on it. Sucks, but such is life.

"You'll wear a hole through the table if you keep scrubbing at it," Hoseok says softly as he takes the cloth from you.

"Sorry," you hum. An awkward smile is offered, as loose hairs fall around your face, glitter caught in the strands that dance in the low evening light. You're even more haphazard than usual today, Hoseok thinks. You choose to explain it away. "Just nervous about Tae's show. That's all. Trying to get a head start on things."

"It's an art space," he says warmly, not wanting you to think he's being critical. The way he smiles is gentle; the creases in the corner of his eyes are even more so. "No one is expecting it to be free of paint. If anything, quite the opposite."

He's right. You know it. It's why you make no opposition when he encourages you back to the desk, and guides you into the chair by the till. There's only one couple in the far corner. Young. Teenagers, maybe. You wonder if they'll make it through university. Likely not.

Cynical bint, you berate yourself. Plenty of people stay with their high school sweethearts. You'd met potentially the best example you'd ever seen of the cliche last night, in the form of the Min's.

You understand entirely why Yoongi adores Seoyeon, so. There had been an ease to her acceptance of you; as if she was inherently meant to nurture those around her, no matter how unfamiliar they may be. By the time you had left the Min's - a little tipsy and with Jeongguk's arm around your shoulders - you'd felt a warm sense of belonging in her company.

There's quiet concern on Hoseok's face a little while later as he watches you dip your bagel into a pot of cream cheese.

The magnitude of his concern only increases when you sink your teeth into the bread and tear it apart.  You're like a tiger ripping apart raw flesh, he thinks.

The scowl that settles on your lips as you chew is only wiped away when you take a sip of your coffee - but there's still a frown polluting your expression.

It's sort of cute how your cheek bulges from the sheer amount of bagel your manage to stuff in there, but Hoseok's worried you'll choke.

"Want a knife?" he asks as you dip the bagel back into the pot.

You look at him - bagel clamped between your teeth, just about to be torn in two - and scowl. Yanking the bagel, you tear it even further apart. He gulps. Shouldn't have asked. Never interrupt a girl and her food. He knows this. Should have known better.

It's just a bad mood, you think. No need for Hoseok to look at you as if you have three heads.

Just a bad mood.

Across town, in a ceramic painting place you've been following on Instagram for ages now but have never visited, Jeongguk laughs.

There's a dimple sitting prettily in his cheek, his teeth on full display, nose a little bit scrunched. He's trying to be quiet - doesn't want to distract the rest of the people in the pottery studio - but there's something so damn funny about Jiyeong's inability to paint anything that even remotely resembles a frog.

She pouts, and lowers her brush. "Stop! I'm trying!"

But then she smiles, too.

No one else notices. They're all far too distracted by their own masterpieces.

It's annoying, because Jeongguk really has created a masterpiece.

Having both been totally clueless as to what to decorate their mugs with, the ceramics instructor suggested taking inspiration from their favourite childhood fairytales. Jeongguk had gone for Little Red Riding Hood - Jiyeong had taken great pleasure in telling him she'd been Little Red for Halloween - and Jiyeong had gone for the Princess and the Frog.

"I know," he grins, as he tries to pretend as if it's not the most god-awful frog he's ever seen. It's kinda cute. In a hideous, kind of way. "You're doing great - no! Really. You are it. It's like... an abstract version of the story."

"Look," she sighs, her pretty face all pouty and perfect despite her hardships. The smile on her face is genuine, and Jeongguk is sort of glad that she's not great at the whole 'art' thing. He doubts it would be half as much fun if she was any good. "Your friend never mentioned there'd be art involved - I fucking suck at arty things."

"Art is subjective-" he goes to reassure her, but she's having none of it. Shakes her head as she laughs. Makes him laugh too. It's easy. The flirting, the fooling around like kids in art class. Almost nostalgic. She's exactly the kind of girl he'd have gone for in his younger years - confident, a reckless tease, remarkably tactile. It makes him wonder why he ever strayed from his 'type'.

Hayun had been a bit of an anomaly. Different. She was a quiet one - cautious, but casual. Funny in a way that Jeongguk couldn't quite understand, but desperately wanted to. Reserved. His childishness had often been met with rolled eyes, and the lack of clear indication about her feelings made him insecure. Put him on edge. Even when they started hooking up. Actually, no. Especially when they had started hooking up.

His strangeness has been making a welcome comeback as of late, as noted by Yoongi a few months ago in Dionysus. You've helped in immeasurable ways. Ways you won't ever be able to understand.

It's Jiyeong's openness - the way she touches his arm, how she dabs at his fingers with her paintbrush - that lets him know she's interested. It stifles the fear. Fills him with confidence.

"You're allowed to say I suck," she grins, leaning into him a little bit. The scent of her perfume picks up in the electric heater, and he finds that he likes it. It's not his favourite, no, but it's pretty nice. Citrusy. He prefers things a little warmer, a little more vanilla. Toasted coconut. Sweet.

He momentarily loses his train of thought. Thinks about the way your hair had smelt in the bakery aisle of the supermarket. Thinks about the way he always lets his nose nestle into the crown of your head before you shower together. Thinks about your room, and how it smells like that - sweet, coconutty - and how the last time he'd been in your room, he'd been inside of-

NOPE.

That thought is very quickly pushed deep down into the darkness of his brain. He can't be thinking about that . Not now.

"Yeah, it's pretty fucking bad," he nods instead, turning his attention back to her mug.

It's impossible for her to take offence when he looks as sweet as he does. He's in a white shirt - bad choice, considering there are speckles of paint all over his arms and even a tiny bit on his cheek - and black slacks, but the look is pulled off so well.

In fact, his outfit is borderline identical to what he wore to the Min's. You'd said he'd looked good. Said that it would be a good date outfit.  And so he'd listened, and had been proven right when Jiyeong complimented his style choice within the first five minutes of the date.

Admittedly, he'd complimented her first. Said that she looked nice, after about a thousand awkward, bashful smiles and half a dozen 'this is so weird,' and just as many 'I'm so sorry she forced you into this.'

Jiyeong had smiled, and assured him it was okay. "I'm glad she did."

And as Jeongguk meets you outside the gym the following morning, he can't help but agree.

He's still got a glow about him; fresh-faced and unwavering despite the rigorous workout you know he must have had. Part of you is glad. Him being at the gym means she at least didn't stay over - which would have been totally fine! You absolutely wouldn't have minded. Wouldn't have bothered you in the slightest . In fact, maybe it would have been better if she had stayed-

Okay, you can't even convince yourself that you believe it, but that's not the point.

He walks with his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets, shoulders a little hunched from the cold air. He's missing a jacket, which is unlike him, you think. You can't tell if there's a blush on his cheeks or if it's just windburn. Maybe both.

"Hello, Casanova," you greet him, smile fond, eyes earnest. The words are lively and melodic as they dance from your lips to his ears, yet the strings of your heart seem to pluck a little out of tune. You just need to adjust them slightly. Tune them. That's all.

"Don't call me that," he shakes his head - but he's smiling. There's a shyness to him. It's not all too unfamiliar, but it's something you've not seen in a while.

"So?" You beam, pushing it aside as you both begin to walk in the direction of 'home'. "How did it go?"

Jeongguk nods as he tries to formulate words. There's a smile on his lips. You can hear it as he speaks. "Good. Yeah... yeah, no, good. Really fun, actually."

"Okay, no, stop being coy," you laugh. "Give me details!"

Jeongguk pauses for a second as he tries to get a read on your face. There's nothing outwardly wrong, he thinks, but he notices that you're avoidant. Your eyes don't linger on his. The smile that comes with your laughter doesn't last as long as it usually does. He doesn't like it.

So he gives you what you ask for, because he thinks that might help. Maybe you've been nervous for him. It's his fault - he forgot to text you back last night, having gone for drinks after the ceramics place. Time had slipped away from him.

He tells you everything - how bad she is at painting (you enjoy this, because you like being better than her at least at something), how she'd suggested a drink afterwards, and how he'd walked her home at 2 AM because apparently neither of them wanted to stop talking. He tells you how he hadn't been brave enough to do anything other than walk, but she'd moaned about the cold and so he'd given her his jacket.

Poor Jeongguk had been so warm from soju and giddy from a date gone well that he hadn't even realised he was jacketless until he was about halfway home.

It explains his lack of a jacket now. You've a heat pack in your pocket. Part of you tells you not to pass it over to him. Would serve him right for being so careless.

And as much as you enjoy being a bitch, you also don't enjoy hearing his teeth chatter together. You say nothing as you pass it over, and push him toward the alleyway that leads up to his favourite brunch spot. At least going there will get him out of the cold.

"I'm so happy for you," you smile. You don't think you're lying. "I told you that you could do it!"

Jeongguk is slow in his reply again, almost as if he's weary of saying the wrong thing. It comes from a place of fear; memories of Hayun, and her reaction the first time Jeongguk had started seeing someone during their friendship. It had been before anything had developed between the pair of them, but it was the first time he'd clued up to the fact maybe she'd have been interested in more.

If he were to explain this, you'd tell him to fuck off for associating you so closely with her. You've never met her, but have convinced yourself that you couldn't be less like her even if you tried. You're nothing like the girl who broke his heart, and you never intend on being anything like her, either.

Then again, can't break his heart if the pair of you never fall for each other - and given the giddy smile on his lips all thanks to Jiyeong, you highly doubt that would ever be an option, anyways.

Seeing him like this - hopeful - makes your heart swell. He deserves happiness. Deserves the world. Or at least, deserves someone who makes him feel like he has the whole world in his palm whenever he holds them close.

"I owe you," he beams, as he beelines for his favourite booth, passing a quick nod to the cashier as she welcomes your arrival. It's so warm in the cafe that Jeongguk thinks he might die. The sudden temperature change is torture. "She, uh - she actually asked if I wanted to hang out next weekend, too. Obviously, I said no-"

"NO?! Obviously?!" You almost shriek, the back of your hand gently smacking against his arm. "You said no?! I thought you said it went well?!"

"It did!"

You don't understand why he's shrieking too, when he's the one who's gone and fucked up all of your hard work.

"Then why the fuck would you say no?!"

"Because!" he interrupts before you go off on a tangent, without hearing him out. "Next weekend is Tae's art show. Show on Saturday, and Sunday is free in case we get fucked up afterwards."

He shakes his head towards you, eyes wide, brows lifted, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world - and now that he's mentioned it, you think he's right.

Good, old, dependable Jeongguk. Wouldn't forget his friend's important events for anything. Not even one of the hottest girls in the whole downtown area could make him forget.

Though if you said this out loud, he'd smirk, and tell you that one of the hottest girls in the downtown area is the reason he remembers.

But it's Tae's event, not yours. He knows that you'd tell him off for framing things in such a way. Plus, the date with Jiyeong really did go well. The idea of acting a little sleazy just for a cheap joke doesn't appeal to him. It would feel distasteful.

And yet it feels wrong not to make the joke. A week ago? He would have done. Your dynamic, though largely unchanged, is different now. There are boundaries that come with dating; ones that he knows damn well to respect, no matter how early on it is.

He never wanted things between you to change. He'd have happily kept things as they were.

Progress has been made, though; a purpose has been served.

He'd never describe your friendship as transactional, but it seems to have worked out that way.

Makes him feel guilty. The feeling simmers in his stomach as he sits beside you, nibbling at his bottom lip. His hands are stuffed into his trouser pockets as he reclines into his chair; a little closed off, but not enough to make you question it.

It's only when you reach over to nudge him - and say, 'hey?' - that he realises he's completely zoned out.

"Hmm?"

"Invite her," you say softly. "To Tae's event. Invite her along. We could do with more guaranteed attendees, and I'm gonna be schmoozing people all night with Tae, so at least you'll have someone to keep you company."

Plus Nabi's invited and you really don't fancy having to deal with her. If Jiyeong can win her over, that's one less thing you have to worry about.

"Invite her?"

"Yeah?"

"You sure?"

"No," you say with so much sarcasm Jeongguk can't help but smile. "I just said it for the fun of saying things."

"That is the kind of thing you'd do," he defends with a cheeky little grin as he sits up straighter. "I just don't wanna... I don't know. Move too fast?"

"It's not like you're inviting her to meet your parents - unless you've also invited them to Tae's?"

"No," he laughs. "Of course I haven't."

"Then you're golden," you assure him.

An extra attendee is an extra attendee at the end of the day. Hell, you think you'd even let Hayun through the door if it looked better for Tae.

"On the subject of golden," Jeongguk sighs as he gets to his feet. "French toast? Iced Americano?"

You nod. Smile a little bashfully. Hate that he knows you so well. Watch him as he walks away, and admire his ass a little (in a friendly way). He's just been at the gym working on it, so you tell yourself he'd appreciate the 'appreciation'.

Your eyes are drawn from his 'assets' when his phone vibrates on the table. You don't let them linger, but you see very clearly that it's an incoming message from Jiyeong. You're not sure it would be considered 'friendly' if you 'accidentally' dropped his phone into the coffee of the woman sitting behind you, but you consider it for a moment. An impulsive thought. That's all. Like when you're driving, and think about the fact you could swerve off the road, or like when Jeongguk gets too close and you think that maybe you could kiss him.

Not anymore, though. That ship has sailed. Lost at sea. Never to be found again. Maybe one day, many many years from now, explorers will find the lost treasure: gold-adorned artworks, swathes of origami birds and more glitter than any single ship could ever hold. Or maybe they won't.

Maybe you're romanticising something that never was for something it will never be.

Who knows? Best not to tempt fate with such mindless dillydallying.

Especially not when you know you're gonna spend the next half an hour convincing him to text her back and just bloody invite her to the show.

You're not sure if you should be pleased or disappointed when it only takes fifteen minutes to convince him. Pleased, you suppose. That's what you tell him you are, at least.

And pleased is also what he is when she replies immediately saying that she'd 'love' to come. Asks for a dress code and a ticket price. Wastes no time. Keen .

(If you were gonna be a bitch (which for some reason is coming naturally today) you'd think she was desperate (but then you remind yourself that you set up this date (with her (because you knew she was keen (can hardly be annoyed about it now, can you? (Stupid))))).

"Cocktail dress, and no ticket price," you smile, as if your brain isn't exhausting you. "She's your plus one. Mates rates."

He asks if you're sure. You tell him yes.

You don't tell him that you've already put the cost of two tickets - yours and his - in the kitty. Everyone else is paying. The pair of you were never going to be an exception - supporting Tae's show is more important than an extra 15,000won in your bank account. You'll just add a little extra for Jiyeong's ticket. No biggie.

Once brunch is done, and Jeongguk has just about finished teasing you for texting the details of Tae's show to Seokjin (you thought the 'send to all' function could be your friend, but forgot that your own inability to delete his number is your biggest flaw), you head in separate directions. Both heading home.

And yet as Jeongguk presses his bedroom door shut only to see a paper bird propped up by his pillows, he can't help but feel like home is across the other side of the city.

Strange.

Not really, though.

Not when you're flopping face-first onto your bed with a groan, and a mumble of an acknowledgement that you'd really rather Jeongguk not bring his new squeeze along.

"Wassup?" Danbi calls through from her room.

Rolling onto your back, you sigh. Look at your ceiling, that's void of birds, and ignore the message that comes through from Seokjin, finally responding to the show invite.

"We have any wine in the fridge?" You call back through to her.

"Always."

"Wanna get fucked up?"

Danbi laughs. You hear her head to the kitchen, and the clink of wine glasses gently knocking together as she opens up the fridge. "Always."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[kyouka-supremacy]

A little, not very polished ramble on Fukuchi and political theory, initially meant to be the answer to an ask questioning what I thought of the last chapter but posting separately because it ended up having little to do with the actual chapter.

This arc is good. I mean, the politics dilemmas it tackles are real and relevant (or maybe it's just me and loving politics discussion, that's a real chance too). Themes and interrogatives such as whether the eradication of states is possible; the critic to democracy in favour of a single authoritarian leader as the optimal solution for citizens' wellbeing; the utilitarian reasoning behind the justification of sacrificing a few in order to ensure the greatest good to the most; the trolley problem– would you be willing to sacrifice five hundred in order to save two-hundred and ten million; the general interrogatives on why war happens; those are all real questions that political scientists try to give an answer to. I feel like bsd still hasn't cleared up where it stands in relation to these interrogatives– a lot of it is going to be determined on what Fukuzawa is going to do with his role of Army of Mankind's leader, whether he's going to accept it or something else. But I'm EXTREMELY curious to find out how the author will answer them and the worldview bsd is going to propose accordingly.

So far, bsd has seemed to me to propose a nihilistic-political realist-nationalist worldview: good and evil are meaningless binomials (Oda in his last speech to Dazai), every man acts in their own interest and the strongest prevails (Teruko in chapter 76), a strong sentiment of pride for own country that often translates in denigration of foreigners (the way all characters from other countries are villains, a somewhat reverence for military police (though other people have interpreted it being exactly the opposite))¹. Such reading of bsd is reinforced by Fukuchi's speech in chapter 85, with Fukuchi's character being made overall unsympathetic to the reader. At that point, I was like “Ah! Of course! The nationalist-realist manga makes of the anarchist an unsympathetic terrorist!” (and I'm quite confident I'm not misinterpreting by saying he was framed unsympathetically, at least as far as his ideals go. A lot of emphasis is put on his role of torturer, and the story protagonist looks very upset by it, which feels like inducing the reader to be as well).

But perhaps I was mistaken? Maybe I really jumped to the conclusion by believing this arc would have turned in an anti-anarchism morale. And even though it's still too soon to say it won't, in the arc conclusion we saw so far anarchism was at least framed in much more favourable lenses. Episode 5x11 and the last chapters have vastly subverted the lenses the reader is called to see Fukuchi under, and it's been SO interesting to see. Because Fukuchi isn't made unsympathetic, and as consequence his anarchist ideals aren't being framed as the senseless ravings of the villain anymore. Which I didn't see coming, and was pleasantly surprised by!! Fukuchi's desire to stop war by erasing all states, if not feasible, is now at least being framed as sensate and even noble; which is quite silly given that it's the same ideals he was carrying on in chapter 85, just with more details on political theory and positive lenses. Moreover, the world integration and creation of a single-state is framed as being a natural and unavoidable progression of history, which is CRAZY to me. I mean, it's crazy because it wholly contradicts the nationalist worldviews I found previously quite solidly established in this manga (which, again, might be just a big misreading on my side but. Wow.). Double crazy because there's about one million political scientists who would disagree with it… I don't think it's that much of an affirmed theory anywhere? If anything, because it's got some pretty strong historical negations: I'd like to ask Fukuchi how the gradual disgregation of states reconciles with the dissolution of the ussr and the objective difficulty to maintain wide pieces of land unified, the equally objective difficulty to concretize the goal of European integration, the new wave of nationalism in the world and new countries actively seeking independence rather than cohesion. In the end, Fukuchi seems to propose this insane hybrid of anarchism and authoritarianism with the negation of all states and a single leader detaining all the power (aka no separation of powers, the most rudimental basis to democracy), which sounds absolutely insane to any sensate person but I suppose can even make sense in the bsd world where there's no end to craziness.

I'm very very curious to see how the army of mankind's leader thing is going to be solved. Because if Fukuzawa accepts it, that's quite affirming that the best outcome for society is an authoritarian, antidemocratic regime. And although Fukuzawa himself was shown to be critic of that much (“Even if war did cease to exist, what would remain in that world is a single leader– a dictator. History has shown time and time again that dictatorships only rot.”, chapter 112), him being cornered to ultimately accept the role would seem to suggest that THAT is the only possible answer. Which is an odd subtle not-so-subtle authoritarian agenda which would be… Interesting to see affirmed? but at least that one *is* coherent with the previous signs of nationalism. That said, again, Fukuzawa was critical of it, so I'm not sure he will be willing to follow through (and I find it hard to image a new bsd where world order has been changed. And with Fukuzawa on top of the world, for the matter.) But Fukuzawa did not crush One Order… And overall the narrative seems to have trapped him into yielding to take on the role… Aaaahh, I'm just very curious from a political theory standpoint to see how the author is going to untangle the dilemma!!!

¹ In parenthesis I'm only bringing up the most notable indicators, but those doctrines are an underlying pattern of the whole manga and several events can lead back to these beliefs; for example, how Atsushi's abuse by the hand of the orphanage director is not morally condamned and even implied to have made him stronger, the emphasis on the great power of Japan (here emblematically represented by Yokohama) as a small country / city able to stand up against several evil foreign powers that make repeated attempts to destroy it, and more.

[kellyvela]

I'm unable to fathom the logic of J0nrya shippers. I recently got into a twitter altercation with a couple of accounts and oh my god, I totally forgot how terrible they are ! I have all of them blocked on here but they must be on twitter as well, I even recognised some of the users. It's just awful energy all around; all of them despise Sansa, no matter what she says and does. And they are SO weirdly possessive of Jon. They claim that WE treat Jon as some trophy husband when it is actually them who are guilty of that! They even hate it when people make simple Sansa/Ned parallels because apparently Ned belongs to A as well? Never mind that Ned is also Sansa's father...smh.

Their copium is very loud and obnoxious. I wonder how they felt when GRRM straight up debunked the ship at Balticon. Calling J/A relationship by all accounts, quite simple - that the fans have given it more thought than he has etc. I would have just packed up and left after that and accepted it wasn't going to become canon. But alas, they get even louder than how they were before. Do they understand how weird they sound. They sexualise A so much and want her to become a courtesan and get her period. It's very obvious A is not going to be the love interest because GRRM has done everything in his willpower to portray A as a prepubescent child. But he has done the opposite with Sansa; He's made her tall, full-breasted, acting as a mother to a child, basically running the household in the Eyrie etc. sometimes I forget she's meant to be 13...

We all know that when someone is on the right track, GRRM will respond cryptically and give a short, sweet answer. He rambled when it came to j0nrya, that's not a good sign for the canon basis of their ship, especially when they have the nerve to call Jonsas delusional.

The truth is, I wouldn't still be here fully believing in the inevitability of Jonsa if GRRM debunked it in the same manner he did w J/A. When that Alexandragenesis person asked him about it back in 2018 and GRRM just responded with "not going to tell anymore than I already have" I knew that we were on the right track. If GRRM flat out ignored the question or responded with a simple "not the direction I'm going in" since he had no issue debunking another theory on that same chat...if I remember correctly, well I'd have left and accepted I just misinterpreted the text and saw romance where it wasn't meant to be. I'd still read fanfic about them and enjoy them in a fanon way, and I still believe all the brilliant metas hold merit, no matter if they're meant to be interpreted as romantic by the author.

But j0nrya's didn't let go of their stance and just cracked down harder on jonsas. I'm embarrassed for them. I don't care if they ship it in fanon, if they just enjoy it as a pairing and have accepted it won't become canon based on the author's blatant dismissal of any romance between them - but the way they have behaved in this fandom is really really childish and frankly, irritating. They actually dominate reddit as well, surprisingly. There's quite a few popular Redditors on there who get lots of upvotes and who are also big A/J0nrya bloggers on here. And sometimes there are posts about Queen A/J0nrya which is met with 0 criticism by the community. There's healthy discussions which receives heaps of upvotes and everything. But it's the opposite situation with queen sansa and Jonsa. Little to no upvotes and harsh criticism.

Are these people selectively blind? Is this fandom completely unable to understand subtext and implicit clues/foreshadowing? Do they get how fiction works? Do they get the different literary influences that inspired GRRM to write ASOIAF? His past works? His favourite authors? The themes of his series? The importance of omission? Unreliable narrators? Dramatic irony? Have these people never studied a text before and been made to pick apart imagery, sentences, parallels etc?

I'm just baffled by this fandom having such a surface level reading of the text. "BUT JONSA COULDN'T HAPPEN BECAUSE THEY RARELY THINK OF EACH OTHER!!" If they took the time to read our metas they'd actually realise... that works in our favour...the distance supports our theories...that's exactly what we are pointing out lmao. I'm utterly convinced that if Jon was mussing Sansa's hair and thinking of her as his little sister constantly that Jonsa would hold a lot more merit.

I mean, even just the implication that GRRM's response to Jonsa was clearly 'fan service catering' is so fucking disingenuous I have to laugh. Why would GRRM feel the need to appeal to such an incredibly niche fanbase and tell them what they want to hear when majority of the fandom wants Jon and D*ny to have sex and save the world together. And when you compare how GRRM responded to Jonsa vs how he has responded to R + L = J, it's so obvious that Jonsas are actually the ones who are making sound predictions. There's a reason a lot of us correctly predicted major beats in the show while the rest of the fandom were foaming at the mouth over Sansa being killed by one of her family members, queen d*ny, and the curtain of light theory ....

My Twitter account is locked for a reason. Somehow they always find you only to attack you.

Anyway, fave sister stans and fave sister/jon shippers are a funny bunch lmao I mean only them can write metas about fave sister being Lady of Winterfell *by proxy*, or that "official" Asoiaf fanart *confirms* that fave sister is the most beautiful human being on earth, or that fave sister and aunty wearing baby pearls means that they are the epitome of fertility and motherhood, despite them both hating those attires and quickly changing on masculine clothes 🤪 And I won't mention the training with a courtesan because that's sick 💀

I won't fight them on fave sister being jon's fave sister, that relationship can stay like that lol

I won't fight them on fave sister being Ned's fave daughter, that we can't change and there's reasons that vastly explain that.

They simply decided to ignore BALTICON, and they also do the same that cujo shippers do, they made up a narrative where GRRM knowing that they "rightly discovered" that their fave romance is *canon*, tried to mislead the readers to keep the susrprise factor when their ships happen . . . . ahxvasdhbshfbdfjsbdmjwd.alsdshadb

Did youk know that the Alexandragenesis was probably a hater from reddit trying to get GRRM debunking Jon/Sansa? Alexandragenesis is some fake disorder that gives you violet eyes born in the internet, so that name was targ coded. Also, after GRRM didn't give them the answer they were seeking they started to attack fave sister in favor of Sansa, so that person was definitely a Sansa hater/targie/fave sister stan failing as always lol

I think they read our metas and feel really dumb after that but they will never admit it, at least not in public, which reminds me of these two anon messages I got from them once:

. . . 🙈

They really said the GRRM answer to the jonsa question was fan service??? 🤡

I'm telling you, they are a funny bunch 😂

Anyway, I can't believe the curtain of light is a thing . . . . 🙃

Thanks for your message anon 💋

[maintitle]

ALRIGHT, I have beaten the game. It's time to talk about Veilguard.

I'm going to go into a lot of depth below the cut. I feel like I'm in a unique position to talk about it, because I've both been disappointed by it but also recognized that some of the criticism is... misguided, while also having enjoyed aspects while also not being too forgiving of it's failings. I think I went in with tempered expectations, both from the World State debacle and from being at every single launch, and that's kind of allowed me to sit back and take it.

For folks who don't want spoilers but want my opinion, I'll say this; It's a mixed bag, but what is there is very enjoyable if sometimes very frustrating. The game is really great mechanically and maybe the most fun I've had with a game moment-to-moment since Origins. It's story and side quests are good, although the dialogue is not always the best written parts of the game. The characters are good-to-great, however their brilliance is really downplayed and minimized until Act II, which is indicative of the quality of the game in general as Act I tends to be a slog and Act II is where the game's brilliance happens, while Act III balances the two to give a fulfilling ending. It's dialogue wheel, while devoid of aggression, is the best one for me in the series since it was added as a replacement for the unvoiced protagonist. It does, however, drop the ball in many aspects as a continuation of the series and it's lore and depth, leaving it quite shallow in many places, and angering in a few, small areas. You should go into the game with the knowledge that there are a few contradictions, that several major aspects of the series are explored on a very disappointing surface level, and the lack of world state options did harm legacy characters. I still, however, would say it's worth a play with these things in mind because once the game picks up it's very rewarding.

Okay, here we go. Obviously, spoilers below, and a lot of them.

I'm gonna start this by presenting a statement as the thesis for what I feel about the game as a whole;

Dragon Age: The Veilguard's greatest failings all exist solely within the realm of legacy.

With that said, I want to start with the good, because I feel that the actual good of the game is either being downplayed dismissed entirely. I'm someone who does love Origins most, but who accepted a long time ago that was not the direction of the series, and that has allowed me to pretty evenly both see the good and bad and also accept that good and bad, especially when understanding what the game was made to be and what it wasn't made to be. I think it's wholly unfair to dismiss the game as a train wreck, because I genuinely feel where it fails is in areas where new players likely won't even notice. For them, I suspect this game will be deeply beloved in the same way (but for FAR different reasons) DA2 is now.

The game is, mechanically, maybe the best we've had so far. Granted, I'm not sure I PREFER it, but I can recognize that's largely because my reflexes have slowed considerably, and I was never truly meant for a game like this. Even so, I enjoyed it way more than I did Inquisition, although it does have the opposite problem of that game. Inquisition's boss battles are fun but it's regular combat is dreadful, whereas Veilguard's regular combat is fun but it's big bosses can be downright frustrating.

I loved the level design a lot. I recognize folks who cut their teeth on Inquisition will balk at that, but as someone who grew very tired of Inquisition's empty open world being 80 hours of the average 120 hour game, returning to this kind of design was a blessing for me. It has it's faults (largely in how it measures height and sometimes arbitrarily decides level edge parameters), but it's smaller scope in levels allows it to make more areas memorable, because most areas in each area have a mission of some sort, and most of those missions are memorable. Even if they're kind of a dud, the plethora of companion banter makes up for some of what's missing. It strikes the proper balance between Inquisition's gorgeous aesthetics with... y'know, actual good level design.

I was very satisfied with the big choices of the game. I felt this game gave me more pause in those big decisions than past games did, and I also feel that's partially because I felt very free to roleplay within it. I really, REALLY love the dialogue wheel in this game, and I think each origin really allows me to play whoever I want in a way I haven't been able to since Origins. I recognize others have had an issue with specifically playing an Elf, but I can't really speak on that because I felt totally free as an Antivan Crow Rook. Yes, the dialogue wheel is dumbed down A LOT without pure aggression, but I think moments of anger still come through even if they don't affect every conversation. As a hater of the 'good choice/bad or sarcastic choice/mean or stoic choice' system that ME made famous, I strayed more from a static response in this game than in any other, and that allowed me to really wrestle with decisions and make ones I wouldn't normally make.

I want to next talk about the companions, because I both feel they are WILDLY not getting enough credit, but are also a gateway into background issues that are everything the game does deeply, deeply poorly.

I was kind of shocked with the sheer amount of posts about how flat or forgettable the characters in the game where. To an extent, I would kind of get it in the opening days of the game. I truly think the first act of the game is maybe the worst start in the entire series. You play it one of two ways, you either spend way too much time on it (I was there for 50 of my 100 hours of gameplay), or you run through it so fast you don't give anything a second to breathe and miss major side missions. I also don't think it helps at all that the worst voice acting of the game is in those opening hours, and I have a very strong suspicion that's because those lines were handled during the pandemic from home. But once we ease into Act II, I think these characters are really given time to shine.

I've seen people give the criticism that the game is poorly paced, and I generally agree with that, but I resist the idea that the companion quests of Act II are part of that problem. To me, part of the overall story of this genre, and specifically Bioware games, are these kinds of personal quests. I play these games in order to get to know these characters, to learn about them and grow with them, and in that way I think the game mostly succeeds. I found Neve's journey through the hopelessness of losing what she sought to protect stirring, I found Harding's struggle with the fragments of what a Dwarf is to be compelling, I found Emmrich's battle with mortality in a medium all about accepting or resisting it to be intriguing and beautifully written, and perhaps most compelling to me was Bellara's struggle with grief and loss. Davrin's struggle with what essentially amounts to fatherhood was layered metaphor, Lucanis' struggle with re-integrating with society after prison was important and well-handled, Taash's struggle with self-discovery within their own family was one many like myself struggle with for their entire lives. I wholly reject the idea that these are flat characters, they stand on their own as memorable and stirring companions.

With that being said.

I think the companions are entangled in a deeply negative aspect of this game that permeates through every corner of it, which is it's total failure to engage in the truth depth of the aspects it pulls from.

I mentioned before that the reason I play these games are for the companions, and that's true, but the reason I adore Dragon Age more than any other setting this is done in is because of Thedas. In spite of it's name, Thedas to me is the most deeply intriguing fantasy setting I've ever engaged in. It's never been one to shy away from it's own worldbuilding. Oh, there's certainly been moments where it's shifted focus aside, but it's never gone away... until now.

Veilguard isn't interested in exploring the alienation of Rook. Veilguard isn't interested in exploring the implications of Lucanis and Spite's bonding. Veilguard isn't interested in exploring what the gods being real and being terrors really is like for the Dalish. Veilguard isn't interested in exploring the true nature of the Crows. Veilguard isn't interested in what lichdom truly would be. Veilguard isn't interested in exploring Tevinter's horrors of slavery. Veilguard isn't interested in exploring the ramifications of the Venatori taking over Minrathous. Veilguard isn't interested in exploring the Antaam and their seperation from the Qun, or the Qun at all. Veilguard isn't interested in exploring the fallout of the Wardens at Adamant in this game. Veilguard isn't interested in what the mage rebellions and the new Divine would have done to the other northern nations. Veilguard isn't interested in the actual implications of Mythal inflicting her memories upon the child she abused.

I don't want to say that Veilguard is devoid of depth, it's not an entirely surface-level game. But what it is is a sanitization of the world and it's denizens. This issue starts with the lack of companion conversations outside of major scenes. To be frank, I don't think it's as big a problem as some might say it is, because if we did get them it likely would have been handled with over-the-shoulder cam like Inquisition, and I would actually challenge having that happen without any facial animations or movements ostracized people interested in those conversations. But the lack of them alienates some characters from the world and their experiences in it, and crucially, how these changes affect them.

I like Harding's personal quest, not just because I found her romance compelling, but also because it's one of the few plot points in the game where a character is forced to actually sit with the fucked up revelations of their peoples past. The Wardens also get that, and I would challenge that the Wardens are better handled in this game than they've been since Origins, but everyone else? Surface level, move past it, don't linger. Bellara repeats the same 'they are my gods but they're evil' line a dozen times, and while the character arc is clearly her struggling with the gods being what they are, she doesn't get the chance to TALK about it. Davrin I think is the most damning, not because he would have a lot to say about the Gods as it's clear his life is more involved with the Wardens than his Dalish heritage, but because they NEVER give him even a SECOND of thought with it. His reactions are essentially 'yeah, I don't relate so I don't care' and I find that a gross oversimplification of how someone who comes from a culture but has moved on to another life would react to it.

I gave Inquisition flak earlier, but it's also my second favorite game in the series. Inquisition handles it's politics almost front-and-center, and because it does that and it puts weight on it, this games refusal to pick up on ANY of those threads feels like a slap in the face to not just the player, but the world.

The truth is, the World State being cut out feels akin to a heart attack to me for the series. It's not the death of it, I actually still really enjoy this game a lot despite all this and it's not my least favorite game in the series, but it HAS done a level of damage that can't be undone, and I fear unless they do a massive time skip there's no fixing it. The series will just die a very slow, very sad death of any worthwhile meaning until there isn't enough lore to make intriguing characters anymore, existing in a flat and boring world with no depth.

It's impossible to look at the art book for this game and not see a better game in previous versions. It's clear that version of the game is the skeleton of what this one is built on, but what we got had so many bones picked out of it that it no longer resembles a human skeleton. Morrigan is still there, but she's written so blithely in order to empower a man's story without bothering to go in-depth on how it would harm her character's mental well-being to have the memories of her abuser in her mind. Dorian and Isabela are there, but they are there so little and lack so much of the spine of who they were that they might as well be any of the new figureheads of factions in the game. Those are three massive romances from each one of the games greatly harmed by the lack of a world state. Sure, they handle Varric and Solas well, but that's because one is puppeted by the other to protect him from feeling shallow, and Solas is the central antagonist that bookends the game. Perhaps most damning is the Inquisitor, who HAS to not have a character at all because the game explores them with zero depth outside of their relationship with Solas.

None of these characters should have been in the game, other than Solas and maybe the Inquisitor. Yes, even Varric. The world state was such a backbone of who they were that it being torn out leaves them not only the lesser, but nearly non-existent. These characters are the punctuation of all issues with Veilguard, hollow vapid fanservice that lacks the depth of any choice that would make their presence worthwhile.

Mass Effect and Dragon Age are series based on choice. Whether it's easy or not for the developers, they sold these games on choice. Fans were willing to give them leeway on what all they included. I genuinely just wanted the origins and romances of DA:O and DA2, with all the major decisions of Inquisition, because I felt DA:O was done well enough in Inquisition and I thought returning characters from DA2 would be a plus but not wholly necessary. Removing even that, even the BIG non-DLC decisions from the game, hurt this as a follow-up so badly it's apparent in every corner of the game.

I want to be clear, I don't necessarily blame the writers for this. I have a strong suspicion that the loss of the world state was either an EA choice or a developer choice, and that wasn't really on them. But if they knew this, they should have pealed back the cameos. Morrigan and Isabela, specifically, had no reason to be in this game, and it actively hurts them both to be present at all.

I promise you, I think Veilguard is a good game. I'm going to return to it, every single time I replay the series. I think it's characters are good-to-great, I think it's gameplay is fun, I think it's a very polished product with a satisfying end.

Veilguard's greatest sin is that it's pulled in two wildly different directions; It wants to explore and finish four games worth of interconnected stories, but it also is desperate to be something entirely new and rebooted that stands as an entry-point to new players, void of the more challenging histories of it's series and setting. These two goals do not work together. They repel off of each other and cheapen the whole thing, until what you're left with is a very enjoyable product with great characters, but exists in a surface-level, vapid piece of media that greatly disappoints the legacy of the series. And that's a damn shame.