#people wouldn't have been making direct comparisons

[wildishmazz]

I've watched two versions of Starmania over the past couple of days(I'm supposed to be writing a dissertation about Starlight Express and gender politics so ofc I've found a new rabbithole), the 1989 Rouge Edition and the 1994 English version at the Mogador, and I keep thinking about Sadia and how drastically different she is between the two already drastically different productions.

In the 1989 she is a trans domme with charisma and magnetism off the scale. Her introduction is a showstopper that basically says "I'm a genderfuck and you don't know what to do about me except take me on my own terms. Fuck you if you don't like what you see, but I know that you do"(I didn’t count how many times the word "travesti" appears, but it's a lot). She drops her former co-conspirators in the shit after feeling(whether justified or not) that she's been usurped by a newcomer and rejected by the antiestablishment terrorist group she essentially created.

In the 1994, she's a performatively rebellious child of the elite ruling class, apparently cis and very young, who enjoys slumming it and automatically expects to be put in charge. Her song is altered to "I'm a very versatile sexual chameleon who can roleplay any character type you like, but I’m the one who chooses what it's going to be, not you", with maybe the slightest hint that she's not cis("you deserve a bit for free"). She's unpleasant and immature, it's hard to see how she gained a following of people willing to commit violence at her word, and it's no surprise when she apparently gets tired of the whole rebellion thing after she's not allowed to be in charge any more and returns to the ruling class, betraying her former friends on her way.

I just feel that the 1989 Sadia is a far more compelling, sympathetic, and ultimately tragic character. It's easy today to see her as an example of a child of immense wealth and privilege who gets thrown out of all of that after coming out as trans, who picks herself up and rebuilds herself from the ground up after that fall. As an abuse survivor existing in the margins of a harshly stratified society, she has to develop a lot of coping mechanisms. She is flexible, resourceful, charismatic, tough as nails, and hypervigilant to threats and percieved threats. She finds a handful of misfits, identifies their leader, and stays a step back as the brains of the organisation while he's the face. They are her found family, and relies on them for acceptance and security.

But then Cristal happens. Cristal is the presenter of the tv talent show Starmania(much like Hunger Games' Effie Trinket), pretty, hyperfeminine, the very face of unthinking privilege and wealth, potentially everything Sadia wanted to be before her fall from grace. Sadia still has the right connections and dregs of social capital to contact her with the offer of an interview with the Black Stars, intending to use her platform to further their cause. What she doesn’t anticipate is an explosive infatuation between the Black Stars' leader Johnny and Cristal. It's galling in many ways when Cristal joins them, and with the zeal of the convert pushes for more extreme ideas than Sadia, leading to the Black Stars listening to her instead. The final straw for Sadia comes when she threatens to leave and no-one tries to stop her. In a very short space of time, she loses her influence over Johnny, loses her position of authority in the group(to someone who effortlessly embodies what she wanted to be before her first rejection), and finds/feels that the people she previously trusted, her found family, don't care about her at all.

And she brought it on herself by inviting Cristal to interview Johny.

Her pain, her rage, her rejection - they eclipse what she already felt for the elite ruling class, because a)this has only just happened and b) these motherfuckers should know better than to turn on one of their own when they should be united against a more powerful enemy. It's bad when your family of origin reject you because they don't understand or accept what you are. It's worse to be rejected by the people who do understand and accept your truth, who should be on your side.

And, aside, the more powerful enemy is pledging that "we will no longer be slaves to nature". There might be something in that that appeals to her. Sadia's been hurt and rejected by both sides, but she can get revenge on one of them by playing them against each other - the rising fascist dictator and the antifascists trying to stop him.

She does. Cristal dies. And fascism takes over.

And this version of the character just feels so much more authentic, emotionally cohesive, than the rebelling-against-Daddy-by-being-promiscuous-and-starting-a-terrorist-cell-then-throwing-a-privileged-tantrum-that-gets-people-killed Sadia of 5 years later.

[sugar-grigri]

Fujimoto has never talked so much about love as in this chapter 

This chapter is incredible, not only for the multitude of answers it offers but also for the beauty of its writing on first reading alone. 

It opens with a man who appeared in chapter 101 of CSM, as passers-by passively walked past him, this stranger was actually right: humans, one of whose major causes of death are demons, are leading to a cold war (ironic to talk about a Cold War for a manga set in the 90s)

But it's as if the whole of society refuses to notice, that everyone hides behind Chainsaw Man and consumes all these derivative products like lucky charms. Chainsaw Man embodies a demonic anomaly, a demon at the service of the people who make them forget this war. 

And that's exactly why Yoru has a grudge against him. Chainsaw Man is an instrument of peace, wielded in times of peace and sacrificed in times of war. Chainsaw Man is there to make us forget the conflicts or become the scapegoat, in either case, he is there to make us forget the war in which humanity is trapped.

A machine into which all hopes are projected, cries of suffering directed, whose childlike quality is seen only by the predators who exploit him constantly. 

What we need to see in this dialogue between Nayuta and Fumiko is a struggle for domination. As we have seen, Fumiko is someone who, despite her aggressions, drowns them in a constantly contradictory protection: she wants to protect a child, but moleste Denji, plays a game in which she places him as older in order to hide her predation, and has saviour syndrome.

Fumiko thinks she's easily understood the nature of weapons, she's sensitive to Quanxi's bodily sacrifices and only repeats to the one she's abusing like an unrestrained fan of a child. Fumiko is the symbol that even when she belongs to the same camp as those she intends to protect, she still can't understand them.

She thinks it's either Nayuta who finds humans weak, or the fact that Barem supports Denji's demonic quality, that they are threats to his well-being when they are the ones who know him best. This is normal, because the strategy of public hunters is to bank on Denji's human side, but this strategy is not enough.

In chapters 136 and 137, Denji is mistreated when he's playing as a human being, getting into fights at school, being treated badly by his teachers, molested when he was thinking about a date at the cinema, and the closer he gets to normality, the more he suffers.

She symbolises not only Denji's sexual trauma, but also the paradox of the hunter system: a system that intends to offer Denji a family framework, but which is not only failing but also traumatising.

Nayuta says she wouldn't kill humans because they're weak compared to demons anyway. It would be as boring as killing ants! It's a continuation of Makima's point that the demon of control isn't interested in things that can be mobilised or easily controlled, it's powerful demons like Pochita that she wouldn't be able to control. Because the only way to establish a link for this demon is to find a demon as powerful as her, of her rank. Nayuta's superiority complex is always balanced against Denji's inferiority complex.

While the demon of control is only interested in demons, the demon who was martyred by humans cannot conceive of himself without them, but we'll come back to that later. 

I just want to point something out: isn't it paradoxical to reproach Denji for the education he gives Nayuta when Fumiko is supposed to regard him, as she claims, as a child? Once again, Fumiko is in constant contradiction, protecting by controlling and attacking, conceiving of a child as an adult, she is the hold over a child she can't help but see as a weapon while vouching for his condition. 

What's more, Fumiko's thinking is purely human, not universal like Denji and Nayuta. For them, feeding the dogs and their cat is a mission of the utmost necessity, it's like acting to protect one's family, whereas Fumiko refutes this.

Denji has been considered a dog for part of his life, and has bonded and merged with a demon in the shape of a dog, which is the first form of love he received: it was not humans who first gave Denji love, but animals. In the same way, the demon of control likes to form a relationship with dogs who take pleasure in their domestication, either as a form of denunciation or as a clearly established hierarchy. 

Fumiko proves that human sensitivity only stops at their peers, while the rarer demonic sensitivity is more universal and intense, whether it's treating animals as precious beings or forgiving unforgivable acts like Denji's continued love for Makima.

The fact that Denji and Nayuta appear to have no moral barriers is what allows them not to be prisoners of their own, and to conceive of love more extensively, whether it be harmful or inter-species. 

All this just goes to prove Barem's point that, as a weapon, he has a very good understanding of the different species and what they have in common: death is what binds us together.

When humans no longer find interest in a figure, it is destruction that attracts them. In other words, it's intrinsic to them. Even when they have been spared the demon of fire, they intend to spread it. Isn't it ironic, then, that Fumiko intends to protect two demons at the expense of their animals? Humans only see the world in terms of hierarchy, whereas demons and animals recognise that there is more to it than just a food chain. 

Nayuta's emphasis on the exhilaration that comes from abusing and killing demons is spot on. In chapter 137, Denji had fun beating up all those men, even concluding that "this" normal life wasn't so bad. Why was that? Because it's the daily life of a demon.

Denji, who belongs to both camps, has human needs just as much as he has demonic needs, so Nayuta has a point. But just as living solely as a human doesn't satisfy Denji, acting solely as a demon doesn't work any better. 

Denji works through the concrete, through sensations, and what he materialises through his senses, the fact being that he's had at least one kiss without any major damage with a human his own age.

Just a harmless touch is what allows Denji to connect with humanity as a whole, to be sensitive to their plight, even though he has no morals and takes pleasure in human suffering.

It wasn't until Denji struck up a relationship with Aki and Power for the first time that he was able to feel human and stop feeling like an animal. We are empathetic to the fate of those who resemble us, Denji is a universal being, animal, human and demon, he is the one who brings these different worlds together. Barem is right: death is what binds species together. But Pochita and Denji are the symbol that love can also be a common denominator. 

The fact that he thinks of Asa is symbolic because, without knowing it, she is the one who understood the plurality of species in Denji. She began by dehumanising him, Denji's animal phase, placing him below the cat (proof that she too places animals before men), then she had budding feelings for Denji before being disturbed by Chainsaw Man. 

That's why Chapter 101 is so important to understanding this chapter: because in it, Asa makes friends with both humans and demons, getting to know Yuko just as she does Yoru. She is not outraged by the idea of killing, as Yoru asks her to do, having put aside her human nature and accepted the world as it is, which is ruled by death.

But she is no fatalist, and in the face of a demon, she protects Yuko, continuing to love despite her mistakes "as long as her heart is in the right place". What matters is not so much our actions as the cursor through which we place ourselves to apprehend the world. 

Relationships are full of mistakes, imperfections, misunderstandings and a game of dominance. Denji doesn't realise it, but the one who kissed him wasn't Asa but Yoru, and it was for a bad purpose: to turn him into a weapon. Paradoxically, in wanting to make Denji a weapon, Yoru conceived him as he was, a hybrid being, a weapon. It was the first kiss in which he was seen for what he was.

But not only that, just as Asa loves the different natures of the multi-species being that is Denji, so Denji loves Asa's dual nature, what holds him together is as much the memory of the human in the aquarium as the physical contact with the demon inside her.

While Asa, in her desire to protect Denji, was distancing herself from him, hurting him and making him doubt himself, it was paradoxically the demon, with evil intentions, who gave him some peace of mind.

The chapter is called Devil's choice, an expression which means that we only have two choices, that we can't have everything. In this case, that would mean choosing a species, a side. But what Asa and Denji still represent in this Shakespearean symbolism is not belonging to any side, but loving in a universal way.

The rejection of men has opened up other perspectives for both of them, be it the animal or the demonic connection. 

Once again, the answer lies in plurality, in what begins with two: Asa and Denji decide, on the contrary, to have it all, there is no Devil's choice. 

By deciding to bond with animals rather than humans when they lost their parents, Asa and Denji forged a destiny guided by love without barriers.

Their bad experiences - sexual harassment for Denji and bullying at school for Asa - at the hands of adults have naturally created a distrust of humanity that is rekindled by contact between the two of them. It's when Denji and Asa come together that they regain hope, because they are the definition of loving each other fully.

Those who stand in the way of this universal love are the public hunters who avoid this natural crossing.

The public hunters are there precisely to fuel the fight against humans and demons, the link they carry is not love but the other common denominator, death, destruction. Even if it means crossing the moral barrier to exploit children with Yoshida by forcing them to harm other children like Asa, Fumiko being once again the symbol of this danger.

Denji has both human and demonic needs, so he's destined to love Asa because she's both human and harbours a demon with a thirst for violence. Chainsaw Man was used to make us forget the war, but by loving the demon of war, they both unravel.

Only Chainsaw Man and the demon of war can conquer death, because love is the second common denominator that links the species. Why? Because everyone has a heart. Even demons. Who not only have one, but become one.

[gotham-daydreams]

what would have happened if reader actually snapped at one of the batfam before they leave, causing the batfam to investigate their room and notice the readers life way before they leave?

Honestly if that did happen I don't think the reader would even get the chance to reach their friend's place.

Once the reader snaps, you know a whole dump of shit the Batfam has done to them in the past is just going to come pouring out. So depending on the person, the initial reaction would be different, if only slightly?

Bruce would go to Alfred before going to your room, the events being similar to how he ends up going to the reader's room in "Not Here", but instead, Bruce asks if he has actually done the things that the reader mentioned. With Alfred responding in his usual sassy, but to the point manner.

Dick would be frozen in place before trying to reach out and talk to the reader- only for them to harshly shove him with strength he didn't even know they had, and that keeps him in place for a while as they storm off. He decides that he'll check their room and ask Alfred — and which ever he comes across first, is what he ends up doing, before moving on to the other thing. Though either way, he ends up in the reader's room eventually.

Jason would be speechless at first, then annoyed a little bit. He's barely around, why should he get all this shit because the rest of the family have been unintentional assholes to the reader?... Then, he thinks about it... since he's clearly shown up enough to still help with fucking up the reader- especially to the point of them blowing up. So, he'd look in their room to investigate first, before asking Alfred any questions.

Tim just wouldn't know what to do. He'd stand there stupidly, mostly confused and shocked himself as he does try to reach out for the reader, but it's already too late. They reached the front door and left. Just like that. However, he doesn't waste much time and immediately starts his investigation. He might call Alfred while he's searching the reader's room, or even when he's on the way there, so that way he can multi-task and find out more about the reader quicker.

Cass is hurt, and does unintentionally let the reader go as they leave, but takes a minute before doing anything. She's in disbelief, but the pain done to the reader is so clear that she feels stupid how she didn't see it before. Even in their anger she could see the anguish and betrayal all over their body, and it pains her as much as the reader's words did. It takes her a minute to process anything, but afterward she searches for Bruce, Tim, and Alfred so that she can possibly get some answers. It's only after does she go to the reader's room.

Damian would be more confused than anything. (And let's be honest, out of everyone- he'd get the least of it. Mostly because he's so young and yeah, anger is unrational at times, I feel like in comparison to everyone else, who are worse offenders because they're older and have been influencing Damian's behavior towards the reader (albeit unintentionally), he just wouldn't get as much anger or anything directed towards him. Whereas with everyone else? Eh- I can't exactly say that's the case.) However, he would at least make an effort to ask Bruce, Dick, and or Alfred about the reader and how his and everyone else's behavior has effected them. Along with if they've noticed certain things about them and such. Only going to the reader's room with one of the three already accompanying him.

As for Babs and Steph...

Barbara would try to get the reader to calm down so that they could further talk- only to get ignored. She'd immediately try to talk to Bruce or Alfred, maybe even Dick or anyone she comes across before heading into the reader's room. Just considering it, before deciding that someone should do it, if someone else hasn't already.

Stephanie would also need a minute, before looking for people and making calls to the rest of the Batfam. Hurt and freaked out for how badly the Batfam as treated the reader, and what the reader might do now.

On the off chance that the reader blows up on Alfred, he just takes it before finally deciding that something should really be done. So if the reader blowing up at someone else doesn't light the fire immediately, he will do it for them.

Regardless of how it starts or who the reader ends up blowing up at- things hit the fan pretty fast.

Again, the reader doesn't even manage to make it to their friend's place before getting confronted, and basically cornered.

The moment the family finds out about all they can from the reader's room, it plays out similarly to "Not Here" except if you skip the part where they search the Manor, and instead go straight to Gotham. They find the reader easily since they're out in the open (and promptly ignore how they almost missed the reader, but the person who suffered the brief wrath of the reader was able to recognize them, so they had to do a double take to confirm). However things don't go great, maybe even arguably worse in comparison to Part 3 seeing as the reader hasn't had time to really cool down, and is already sick of the Batfam.

It just goes as terribly as you'd expect, and hey, maybe if a few of the wrong buttons are pushed, certain things happen instead of others. But if they're left alone, maybe the reader will get a bit of breathing space before it's inevitable invaded again.

Either way they'd be pushy, clingy, and would not leave the reader alone for a second- maybe even having them discuss parts of their life, along with certain events that have happened to them, so it can feel like the Batfam and the them are 'bonding'. (Even if the reader is very uncomfortable, in reality, and just ready to leave- but the Batfam is basically nailing them in place by staying close and invading their personal space.)

The Batfam becomes a part of the reader's everyday life as they don't want to miss a single day ever again. Not one. Even if the reader doesn't 'live' in the mansion anymore, but they'll move back in eventually, surely. The Batfam will take care of it either way.

With everything and anything the reader does, they'll find a way how to be there one way or another. But if they get too impatient? I'm sure you can imagine what happens from there.

Tldr: Things still go horribly, but just much faster than normal! :]

I hope this answered your question! If you'd like for me to clarify on anything or go into more detail on a specific thing I mentioned, feel free to send an ask! If anyone else has another question or anything or the sort, feel free to do the same!

[sapphixxx]

there's a lot of reasons more people aren't into yuri that are troubling to consider, but equally, I genuinely think it cannot be understated how much of it comes down to most yuri being boring as hell. Like truly. I've been reading the front page of Dynasty Scans like it was the newspaper for 15 years I am not exaggerating I can show you the download file data 15 years.

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers was back in 2009?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers is today in 2023?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

Don't get me wrong, Yuri has grown a LOT in that time, to the point that most people today wouldn't even understand a Maria-sama reference if it were dropped in front of them (thank God). It's expanded and evolved to encompass more stories about adult women, wider varieties of scenarios, a greater acknowledgement of real life lesbianism, and is more comfortable showing girls kissing with tongue and having sex.

Yuri Manga is maybe the best is it's ever been, and it's also getting the widest readership it's ever had in the English speaking world. The titles we carry at work are always on back order with long queues, and, when I've asked them, most weebs of all gender or sexualities report keeping up with at least a few Yuri series.

At large though? Most of it is still really boring. That's not a bad thing necessarily. I like it because it goes down easy. For the most part any series you pick is gonna be pretty chill. Even shit from Sal Jiang which is PRETTY EDGY for yuri is a pretty breezy read. More serious ones like How Do We Relationship? cover some pretty real subjects about how intimacy is actually quite difficult even when both of you love each other, but it's not like... Exciting. Yuri isn't where you go to pump your fist or get perched on the edge of your seat.

So when the comparison is made to yaoi, well, I mean, have you READ any yaoi? Even in some of the more restrained titles those boys are likely to be sucking and fucking balls and all within the first volume or two. There's gonna be drama, intrigue, shit is gonna get messy, passions are gonna get heated, clothes are gonna be ripped off, people are gonna get sold to One Direction, it's stuff you can sit down with a bowl of popcorn with you know? Stuff you can message your friend and gush Hey Can You BELIEVE? A lot of it is pretty trashy, but that's the appeal. The generic state of yaoi is torrid and exciting and sexy. Ultimately, as a species many of us like to see pretty people fuck. In yaoi you'll get that. In yuri you won't. Nothing wrong with that, but it is gonna be a major contributing factor to their relative popularity.

It's also worth making the comparison to hetero romance manga, which has undergone a renaissance of it's own in recent years. There's now a whole meta around crafting a handful of mean shitty grouchy dysfunctional bully women and flinging them at the protagonist of the day who, unlike in years past, may actually have a face and personality. Most of these are also very trashy and truly scrape the bottom of the bucket in terms of writing.

AND YET?

I would bet money on the fact that you'll have heard of these women and probably even have a good idea what they're like without ever having touched a page of their manga.

I'm sorry but the straights are whipping donuts around the yuri girls in terms of delivering a wide variety of weird compelling fucked up women. How many yuri leading ladies by comparison can you point to as standout recognizable characters even divorced from their story? There's definitely a few, but not many. I'm not talking quality or depth of writing, I'm talking straight up pure recognizability. There are many beautifully written women in yuri, now more than ever. I can't think of many who'd like, get a figure made or have their face splashed on merch, though.

I don't really have a conclusion here. I love Yuri a lot, but at the end of the day this is just kinda the state of things right now.

[tyrantisterror]

I've seen Utena and Evangelion get compared to each other for both being 1. dark coming of age stories that get increasingly surreal as time goes on and 2. supposedly deconstructing their respective genres. And I think there's a good basis for comparison in there, definitely, and they've both become anime I've made a point to revisit because they struck a very strong chord with me.

I think what gets me when comparing them, though, is that Utena gets to do what Evangelion sets up but never managed to finish - and some people inexplicably criticize Utena for it?

Cause Evangelion was clearly meant to be a longer series. They establish early on that there are eight Evas and eight teenage pilots for them. In the series itself we see four - well, five, technically, since an angel posing as a human named Kaworu tricks everyone into letting him pilot an eva, but still. There three side character teenagers introduced early, one of which pilots an eva (to disastrous results) while the other two remain supporting cast. It's possible they were intended to eventually be eva pilots too, but it's also possible the mystery pilots might have been foreignors like Asuka.

Either way, it's clear the story was meant to become bigger, but because of various behind the scenes reasons it didn't - it ultimately remains focused primarily on Shinji, Gendo (the true antagonist), Asuka, Rei, and to a lesser extent, Misato. And don't get me wrong, that still makes for an incredibly engaging show - I wouldn't trade any of the episodes and scenes focused on those cast members for the world, the depth to which those characters are explored is a huge part of what makes the series meaningful for me.

But Utena, while being a similarly character-focused series, does get to expand its scope in the way Evangelion set up but never paid off. The cast of Utena does get larger, and while the focus remains primarily on Utena, Anthy, the true antagonist Dio, and to a lesser extent Touga and Nanami, it finds time to shine the spotlight on a very rich supporting cast of characters. The Black Rose arc in particular is great for this, because it gives the supporting cast members introduced in the first arc - Juri, Miki, Nanami, garbage boy Saionji, and Wakaba - their own arcs and, in many cases, their own relationships with characters outside of Utena and Anthy's direct orbit. The lives and relationships of all these characters become really rich and interesting, with their own quirks and problems to overcome.

And, like, I've seen some people say this is a flaw - that these are "filler" episodes, that you can skip the Black Rose arc entirely, and it's baffling to me. The way all of these characters interplay with each other, how their struggles and arcs mirror and complement each other, is what makes the world and story of Utena so rich. It's still about Utena and Anthy in the end, but Utena and Anthy's arc is also made so much more meaningful by how it reflects the arcs of everyone around them - that ultimately all these characters are sharing facets of the same struggle, and if there's hope for Utena and Anthy at the end (and there is, especially in the movie), then there's hope for all these characters and, indeed, everyone in the audience who sympathized with them.

One thing that'll plague my imagination till the end of my days is the concept of what Evangelion would be if it could have broadened its scope the way they originally planned, and the way Utena broadens the scope of its narrative only fuels that wonder more. I'd kill to see Evangelion's Black Rose arc, and I'm so glad Utena got to have its world grow.

[alicethepiper]

here's the counterpart to my other post about the desks in the s.t.a.r.s office. there's audio this time, but no music unfortunately. you can hear the mr. raccoon bobble head thingy in the background though. i'm dumb and didn't know that was making the noise. oopsies.

so the desks in og2 are all one desk, but in remake they're two desks pressed together into a row. everyones looks basically the same. we have two additional desks in the back, though, near where rebecca's desk in og2 is. i didn't see any of rebecca's boxes specifically (there were a lot of boxes everywhere) but the green satchel health kit first aid thingy (that i assume is hers) is on the wall. idk which desk is supposed to be hers, but i think it's the one with the cds.

Jill's desk is different here too - in og she had a picture of some guy on her desk but now it's a picture of a dog. the beret/hat is still there, so i'm guessing that desk is hers. the desk next to hers has a lot of cds on it, though. it looks like piano music to me, and we know jill plays piano because of the first RE game (from what i remember) but that's about as far as my knowledge on it goes. i think rebecca can also play piano but i could be misremembering the 10 seconds i've played of RE0. idk who that desk belongs to, but it's the only additional desk that actually has any stuff on it, so i think it's rebecca's. all of the bravo team stuff is pretty much packed up (which could be because they're all dead, minus rebecca). so following that logic, the desk with the cds would be rebecca's - all of the other desks are packed up (and all of the other desks, coincidentally, belong to dead people). and i can see rebecca being put next to jill after bravo got wiped out (or even before, since i believe they're the only two girls in s.t.a.r.s and that feels like something the dudes would do. like a whole "lets put those two together so they can bond about being women or something" idk. im rambling. idk who that desk belongs to but i think it's rebecca). i can also see rebecca requesting to be put next to jill. idk too much about chief irons (except for literally all of the bad stuff he does in the game) but i wouldn't be surprised if he was a fucking creep towards jill and rebecca (he also may have only targeted rebecca, since she is a rookie and is also pretty timid, in comparison to jill who is simply not, therefore making her an easier target. i literally have nothing to base this on, i'm just speculating).

wesker's desk just has a lot of books on it. it seems like in remake everyone has their own desk rather than sharing, so i don't think enrico's stuff would've been in there (meaning, i don't think he was the one who had been holding onto a picture of rebecca). ultimately, i agree that the photo of rebecca is just an easter egg and not anything to do with canon as far as capcom is concerned, but if it were to be looked at that way then: in og2, wesker probably shared a desk with enrico, so it could've been either one of them (maybe both?) who had a sus photo of rebecca. and in remake, it's just wesker who has the photo, since enrico probably has his own desk (since everyone else does, and also there are two new desks added in the back - either of which could be his). i would say that remake puts it there just to stay faithful to the original, but the remake version of the photo is significantly worse (somehow??? like, why did you go in THAT direction??) so capcom didn't improve. good job.

conclusion: wesker had the photo of rebecca for sure in remake. he may have shared that photo in og. everyone has their own desk in remake, they shared in og. and in remake, i think rebecca is the desk next to jills. also that photo looks nothing like her so i'm just gonna pretend that wesker used one of those ai thingies and typed in: "rebecca is the new rookie. pls put her in green basketball clothes. also put her in sexy pose, thx" and just printed off the one that either didn't have fucked up hands or didn't show her hands at all.

that's it. thank you for coming to my ted talk. (it isn't even mine) (it was an ask that @highball66 got) (i'm just the private investigator hired to take the photos lol)

[haphazardlyannotated]

So I was thinking about how Steven, Connie and Stevonnie all have a duet with one of the main Crystal Gems and I realised how masterfully these songs are deployed to tell us things about them.

First of all, On The Run for Steven and Amethyst.

Amethyst is the Crystal Gem who relates the most to Steven's experiences and vice versa. They're both the 'juniors' in their household, they've both been struggling with being respected by the older Crystal Gems for a while now, and though Amethyst is very much Steven's guardian when it comes down to it, she's also Steven's peer in a way that Garnet and Pearl just aren't even when they try to include Steven.

And now this song sets them up as parallels in other contexts, too. They're both from earth! They both don't wholly belong in one category (Steven as a half gem, half human, Amethyst as a Crystal Gem who never fought in the rebellion and whose existence runs against the Crystal Gems' original wishes for Earth), and as we are about to learn, they both came into existence at the cost of other life and might harbour guilt about it, even though they had literally no say in this.

And then later on they continue to be parallels, especially in season 3 (though they share the child of divorce energy during the Sardonyx Arc). They both compare themselves to impossible standards of what they 'should' be (Steven to the idea of Rose, Amethyst to Jasper) and it is their recognition of their own struggles in each other that allows them to at least partially overcome them. No wonder Smoky Quartz is Steven's first fusion with another gem!

Next up: Do It For Her, sung by Pearl and Connie.

Speaking of parallels! It's pretty obvious watching the episode that Pearl is spending some time in projection city regarding absolute devotion to a beloved, if not revered partner, but she might actually be closer to the truth in some respects than she realises.

Remember Lion 2: The Movie? When Connie said that she didn't understand why Steven would hang out with someone as normal as her? Doesn't this remind us of someone else who feels like she's objectively inferior to a special (in several ways) someone? Someone who stepped out of the predetermined role she was supposed to fill to join her loved one on their dangerous path? Who lived a double life to avoid retribution from controlling authority figures? Couldn't say.

Also, they're both the knowledgable planner to their all loving goofball partner.

With all of this, I think Do It For Her both draws parallels between Pearl and Connie as well as Pearlrose and Connverse, and shows us how the example of Pearl and Rose's unresolved dysfunction could stop Steven and Connie from falling into the same trap before it was too late. I think seeing Pearl demonstrate the end of the road they were beginning to walk was what enabled Steven to step in before they got to Pearlrose's point, where Pearl was to deep in her self sacrificing mindset for Rose to reach her.

And finally, Here Comes A Thought for Garnet and Stevonnie.

First of all, obviously, Garnet and Stevonnie as an embodiment of the love and harmony between Ruby and Sapphire and Steven and Connie respectively.

It also draws parallels between Ruby and Connie and Steven and Sapphire though. (I saw a great meta about that in my lurking days, which I will link here if someone could kindly direct me to it). Sapphire and Steven as people who would rather bury negative feelings, like Sapphire tries to in Keystone Motel and Steven in... the entirety of suf to name just the most prominent one. Which of course only leads to more problems in the long run, because they haven't processed the feelings at all.

On the other hand, the comparison with Ruby draws attention to a trait of Connie's we maybe wouldn't have noticed otherwise: She is, for the lack of a better term, much more confrontational about things that make her unhappy. Just look at The New Crystal Gems.

Also, letting Ruby and Sapphire demonstrate their conflict resolution for Steven and Connie gives us an insight into what goes into keeping Garnet together through everything. Love takes work indeed. It's also worth pointing out that Connverse have been paralleled with both Pearlrose, Rupphire and (a little bit in We Need To Talk) Gregrose this way.

This show has so many layers, I swear, I'll be on my deathbed and I'll still find new nuances to write an essay about. Well done, Crewniverse.

[changedmyminditsnicehere]

So here it is! Only many months after my last fic, I am delighted to present, Hob and Dream make bad choices in a back office, the fic. I really hope this will mark the start of me coming back to writing a bit more after a slump! I've got ideas for keeping up this AU if people like, so please do let me know!

=======

Hob didn't normally attend these sorts of events. Scratch that. Hob had never attended one of these events before. It wouldn't even have crossed his mind if Genny hadn't suggested it at the Humanities start-of-term drinks. So what if Genny was a broke history of art student and Hob was a professor? Professor shmessor. As far as his salary was concerned, he certainly wasn't going to turn down the chance at a free glass of wine on a Thursday evening. That said wine had to be drunk in front of some incomprehensible contemporary art while surrounded by the sort of person who was very determined that they alone could comprehend it was a minor issue. Hob drank with Joyce professors, a few neo-expressionists were nothing to him.

With his spirits fortified by that thought, Hob had taken the plunge, looked up the nearest and soonest private art gallery opening in Mayfair, put on a slightly nicer suit than he normally wore and got on the tube. On arrival, Hob had realised the suit was completely unnecessary. Certainly, some of the (older) attendees were decked out in what was clearly thousands of pounds of suit, but the majority of the young crowd looked like they had taken a wrong turn through the zombie apocalypse on their way from whatever trendy bit of North London they emanated from. Ah, youth.

Still, Hob was unlikely to have fit in even if he had attempted to squeeze himself into some drainpipe leather trousers. He wasn't going to complain about seeing them on someone else. As he carefully lifted a glass of wine from the tray of a nearby waiter, nodding gratefully, Hob looked around the white-walled room, eyes passing over canvases and the crowd alike, then stopping. No, he certainly wasn't going to complain about leather trousers on anyone, especially not if some of the attendees could fill them out so well.

The figure had his back to Hob. One ebony hand gestured at a large canvas of swirling lines of black and near black and hips cocked at an angle that was doing, just, everything, for said trousers, the figure was clearly mid-sermon on the meaning of the mess to the young woman next to him. She was half to leather-trousers, half to the work, though the amusement twirling around her lips told Hob she was taking neither very seriously. If it was an art nerd's attempt at seduction, it wasn't going well. Hob snorted to himself and raised his glass, taking a sip of commiseration for all those poor undergrads who had ever tried to chat up a woman via metaphysics. 

The movement must have caught the woman’s eye. Her gaze flicked in his direction and Hob wasn’t fast enough in raising his eyes from the work of art in leather in front of him to the artworks around him. Brown eyes caught Hob’s and the woman’s amusement sparkled into an outright wicked smirk. Utterly careless that her companion was still mid-homily, the young woman reached out, grabbed him by the arm and dragged them both towards Hob. The crowd, previously stifling, seemed to flow apart like the Red Sea in her path. Hob found himself rooted to the spot as she held eye contact, unable to mingle off into the crowd as he had hoped.

By comparison, her companion had clearly not caught up with their new direction yet. Barely facing the right way, they were following with all the grace and hangdog expressions of a particularly put-upon wolfhound. Yet Hob was hardly going to complain about the opportunity to see said expression. If the view from the back had been good, then oh boy, the front was something else. Pale pale skin, with high cheekbones, wild dark hair and a nose meant for looking down on people, the man was a vision in black and anger. Somehow, Hob knew he was the artist behind the baffling canvases on show tonight. He also knew he really wanted to know what the artist looked like after Hob had licked away the anger currently curling those rose-bud lips. 

Unfortunately, imagining licking this beautiful vampire of a man, on his face or elsewhere, was hardly conducive to making the best first impression. As the woman pulled up directly in front of him, smirking delightedly up, Hob floundered desperately for an opening statement that wasn’t going to leave him wearing his drink.

"Hello?" There. That was a good start.

"Hello there yourself. I saw you standing over here admiring my brother's work and I just had to bring him over to say hello." Her brother clearly didn't agree if the way those dark eyes were currently flinting up at Hob was anything to go by. “I’m Morana, this is Dream.” Morana had a beautiful, chocolatey voice which she was absolutely using to encourage Hob into joining her in her mischief.

“Hob, Hob Gadling. It’s lovely to meet you.” Hob congratulated himself for managing a whole sentence and a completely unawkward tip of his wine glass towards the pair. Dream did not seem like he would appreciate the offer of a handshake, even if Hob’s palms hadn’t already felt sweaty enough he was worried about losing grip on his drink.

"It's just so hard to extract Dream from his studio,” Morana declared, a theatricality which could only be achieved by older siblings very much tinging her words. “I think it is important he talk to people who show an interest in his art whenever we manage it, don't you?" She was in no way even attempting to hide her awareness that Hob’s interests might lie elsewhere than Dream’s art, or her apparent delight in the fact. Dream, by comparison, was clearly trying to pretend that he was not party to their conversation at all. Well, Hob thought, two can play at that game.

"Oh, what can I say?" He smirked right back. "I've always found myself partial to the colour black."

"Perfect! Dream's all about black at the moment."

Dream, beautiful creature that he was, was not, it turned out, very good at tuning out inanities when directed at his work. With a derisive snort, he shifted his gaze from the mysteries of the universe to Hob and Morana.

“As I was just telling you, sister, the whole point of these works is that they are not actually black…”

“They are infinite colours, infinite varieties, I know dear brother. I wrote your catalogue essay. How about you explain it all to Hob here?” Her eyes positively gleamed. “I’m sure he’d love to hear all about your work. In fact, why don’t I leave you two to it? I’m going to go see if anyone here might have something more drinkable than this.” With a wave of a warm white wine glass, Morana disappeared smoothly into the crowd. 

Hob turned fully to Dream, ready to commence operation seduce-the-moody-goth-artist, despite having absolutely no idea what to say. Luckily, against all his expectations, Dream, appeared to be willing to talk to a complete stranger, if only about his work. 

“It is as my sister says. None of the pigments I used in this series are truly black, or anywhere close. If you look carefully, you can see.” Hob feels as faint as a Victorian maiden when Dream actually takes his wrist, long fingers delicately wrapping around his sleeve to pull him closer to the nearest canvas to demonstrate. “This series, this work, is about exploring the depths that can be found everywhere, if only one takes the slightest moment to actually look for them. It is not my fault that people so rarely take that moment to actually look at anything beyond their immediate impression.” 

Dream pauses, apparently socially aware enough to realise that a rant about human failings probably isn’t the best way to talk to someone that, for all he knows, could be a paying customer - not that Hob’s suit, or his shoes, make any promises about his ability to buy these works - the ‘price on request’ written on the exhibit list had confirmed that to him. But Hob was enamoured. Up close he can really see what Dream means, can see where the seemingly black canvas actually reveals itself as the deepest blues, purples, even greens glittering across the surface.

“Beautiful” he breathes. “Practically a playground, isn’t it?” He feels Dream freeze, the fingers still (still) clasping his shirt sleeve suddenly tensing, and he curses himself. What a way to stick his foot in it. Well done Hobsie. There’s negging and then there’s telling a man who works as an artist that his life’s work is just playing around. Bollocks.

But Dream, though stiff, doesn’t drop his wrist. If anything, he grips more tightly, fingers edging up, closer to bare skin. His eyes fly from the canvas to meet Hob’s. If Hob had felt like a Victorian maiden before, the sudden realisation that he could absolutely get off just from looking into Dream’s eyes and a touch to his bare wrist finished him off.

“You.” Add Dream’s breathy, breathless voice to the mix and Hob is off to heaven as well. Shame he absolutely wrecked his chance. “You would be the first person to say such a thing about my work.” Oh. Oh. Not a mouth-meet-foot moment. It may in fact precipitate a mouth-meet-something-quite-different moment Hob realised, staring into Dream’s darkening eyes.

“Really?”

“Mmm.” Dream was turned fully to Hob now. Hob realised how close they had become, a private moment in the middle of the ebb and flow of the art crowd in their corner. “People often see what they assume to be true. In me, as well as my art.”

“Too into the tortured artist ideal to see what’s underneath?” Hob quirked an eyebrow.

“Too enamoured of their assumptions to appreciate the potential for… personal enjoyment as well.” Hob had to take a conscious breath and loosen his fingers on his wine glass one by one. He debated just how inappropriate it would be to invite an artist to ditch their own exhibition opening for a shag right now or if he should wait around until the end of the opening, whenever that might be. They always said 9, but Dream’s crowd did not give off the atmosphere of a people who might allow an event to end before 3am. 

He was about to open his mouth to make the suggestion anyway when the crowd swelled once more, and Dream stumbled into him. In his loosened grip his wine immediately went everywhere, if everywhere was almost exclusively down his own front. Thank fuck it was white wine. Hob would not have coped with red wine stains on his singular dry-clean only shirt. 

“Oh dear.” He was barely surprised at how sorry Dream did not sound. “Let me take you to the office, I am sure there are towels back there. Maybe you can borrow one of my shirts.”

Hob was not convinced that a high end art gallery office space would stock towels, and much less convinced that he would fit into any Dream might wear. He was, however, not going to object as Dream used his grip on his wrist to weave through the crowd, utterly ignoring the various socialites waving tissues in a vain hope to catch the attention of the star artist. Looking past them too, Hob caught sight of Morena. His attempt to convey ‘sorry there’s been an unfortunate accident but I promise I will return your artist shortly and not get up to nefarious things with him in an absolutely not sound-proofed back office’ via eyebrows was swiftly and gleefully undermined by the salute she gave him with, what Hob couldn’t help but notice, was definitely a much nicer glass of wine than any of the other attendees.

He had little time to do much more than salute back before Dream was pushing him through a small door into a surprisingly large office space. As Hob stepped into the space, Dream leant back against the door, pushing it shut. The burble of the crowd through the walls didn’t entirely cover the sound of a lock clicking emphatically into place. “Just in case anyone tries to barge in.” Dream said, looking up at Hob like the picture of innocence through his eyelashes. “You know how people are at these things, always trying to get in places they shouldn’t.” Hob snorted. Dream stepped away from the door, walking towards a kitchenette on the far side of the room.

“And are we somewhere we shouldn’t be? I wouldn’t want to keep you from your adoring public after all.” Dream paused his rummage through the cupboards. From what Hob could see, those things had clearly never stocked anything more than empty coffee mugs and instant powder, and certainly didn’t currently contain anything as useful as a tea towel. 

“My sister runs this gallery. She organised this event. She can handle the crowd.” The lack of tea towels was swiftly going down as a problem in Hob’s estimation. The gap between Dream’s shirt and his leather trousers as he reached up into the cupboards however…

“Good to know,” Hob walked to Dream, stopping close enough that he wouldn’t be able to turn without brushing against Hob. “Any luck on the towels?” Dream’s huff is so clearly part amusement, part attraction, Hob can’t help but be flattered. Then Dream turns, carefully sliding his hips against Hob’s crotch and Hob feels his own breath being punched out of his lungs. Dream leans back, head tilted and a challenge clear in his sparkling eyes.

“No luck, tragically. You are going to have to take your shirt off. We can put it on the radiator to dry.” 

“And whatever shall I do, while I wait for it to dry? I’m not sure I can pull off the suit jacket without a shirt look. Certainly not as well as you could.” A rosy blush rises to Dream’s cheeks, but his face looks no less hungry.

“Oh, I don’t know, Hob Gadling. I think you could certainly give it a go. You might just become someone’s next muse.”

Hob can’t help it, as he looks at Dream’s smug face, at his beautiful rosy lips twitching like the cat who got the cream. He huffs out a laugh and leans forwards, hands coming to frame Dream’s bony hips and presses his lips to Dream’s.

[jonathan-samuel-smith]

TW bipolar discussion and nonconsensual kissing, mental health discussion

So about Saturn Girl kissing Jon without his ability to consent to it: I get that she isn't actively deciding to mind control the people around her, but she does have a choice in the matter. Her family wanted her to stay home until she could control her mind control powers, but she didn't want to and left. To me that's like if I noticed I was manic (not hypomanic) and didn't go to the mental hospital... Like I can't control my bipolar but I have the choice to stay away from others when it would harm them. That's not even a good comparison though because my judgement isn't clear enough to consistently do that when I'm manic, whereas she is at baseline and is able to think rationally. I wouldn't blame someone with bipolar because they have no choice, but I'm just saying the obvious choice would be to keep yourself away from others even if it's not fun for you. I feel like I can blame her, because she has a choice.

I do sympathize with her, but I really think she's hurting others disproportionately to the distress she feels stuck at home, and that's not okay.

If you look back on the events with the knowledge that she can't turn off her mind control, you see how manipulative she is, especially to Jon, and she does high-control group tactics: love bombing, isolation, guilt tripping, not letting him have rest alone where he would have time to realize he didn't want this.

I don't like the JonDami narrative that Jon was an asshole for leaving Damian in the past or was running away from his problems, because in my view he was dragged into a cult and I can't blame him for that, especially because he was extremely vulnerable at the time. I also don't believe Jon would have left in the first place if he knew up front that he couldn't bring Damian to at least visit him.

Jon had been in a state of fight or flight for around 6 years (not just talking about the volcano because there was also his verbally abusive grandpa and their deadly adventures and being trapped in space, and then him struggling to survive on the streets and trying to find a way home after he escaped) and the first time he really got a chance to cool down was when he was talking with Damian. He really needs a long break, therapy, and medication because what he went through can't be treated with therapy alone as the stress has chemical effects in the brain that need to be adjusted.

The writers don't care about how Jon should be extremely hypervigilant and defensive and anxious. I guess that's just not brave enough for a superhero, nevermind that leaving the house and getting treatment for these things, learning to trust again, and letting people help you is so much braver than punching guys when you have superpowers. It's natural to fight when your fight or flight is activated in a protective manner, but doing the logical thing when every signal in your body is telling you not to is really damn hard. The only coward is DC for giving Jon trauma and not actually writing a traumatized character.

That all being said, Damian clearly doesn't see how Jon is being manipulated, probably because his head is full of self hatred & doubting & repressed desires to ask Jon to stay, and thinks he needs to go against his abandonment trauma by swinging the pendulum too far in the opposite direction in his speech. With his c-ptsd and abandonment issues I can see him becoming bitter towards Jon for going to the future.

That could make for a really complex fanfiction, don't you think? The conflict coming from their unique life experiences and traumas, and them learning to understand each other like they're always doing. This misunderstanding of intentions born not out of something dumb like hearing the wrong thing or being unclear in language, but from their different points of view.

My jondami au where Jon leaves the legion early is calling me lmao "Isaac we have more problems for you to fix~"

That being said I have no exclusivity to these ideas for writing.

[emiliosandozsequence]

okay i'm gonna be very frustrated and angry probably but none of this is directed at you guys i promise!!! i'm just!!!! upset!!!!!!!!!! (tagging you so you see this emily!! 💕 @thesparrow1996 )

let me start off by saying i am not a book purist by any means, but when visual media is being made from a book, i would like it to, at the very least, be telling the same story and that isn't what happened here. it wasn't even telling the same story as the first film in the series.

in the last film, it seemed pretty apparent that paul's visions were going to become a reality and then in this one they Sort Of did that, but Not Really but that isn't even my biggest gripe with it. my biggest gripe is that the last film was telling the story of the book and this film was telling a different story altogether.

my other issue is how chani's character was completely changed. and think is probably because i've been obsessed with her character and the lovestory between her and paul (which is CENTRAL TO THE PLOT OF THE WHOLE SERIES BTW) since i first discovered dune when i was in high school.

in the book, she's supporting paul. she agrees with everything he's doing. she and the fremen all support him because the fact that the bene gesserit are controlling things from the shadows is NOT!!!!! a well known thing!! in fact no one knows that except the bene gesserit!!! OF WHICH CHANI IS CANONICALLY ONE!!!!!! (and even then the bene gesserit are very much a 'knowledge divided' kind of people so no one knows everything about the society) she and irulan are literally narrative foils!!!! like the entire reason i made this web weave was because of how much i fucking LOVE chani's storyline, and because i really love how it shows even the most well meaning of people can fall into the trap of doing the wrong thing for the right reasons. but i suppose it makes less sense to anyone else who hasn't read the book because they also entirely erased the existence of paul's first son.

in the books, paul has a son before he has his twins and that son is murdered by the very last of the harkonnens in a last ditch effort to erase the atreides bloodline. before this, paul is refusing to take the water of life because he has a family and he doesn't want to jeopardize that!! after his son is murdered, he takes the water of life, so he can enact revenge on the harkonnens and start his holy war. by then, he his so distraught that he really doesn't care if his visions become a reality and, while they tried to do this with the destruction of sietch tabr in this film, it does not have anywhere NEAR the same emotional impact because of how it was done (without paul really ever spending any significant time among the people there).

also, as you can imagine, i've got an issue with how they leave this film especially since this isn't even really the full first book and chani and paul's lovestory seems to not be anywhere near as central to the main plot as it is in the books.

all of this is an issue if they want to make further films because they've literally wrecked the storyline with this film. as i said: paul and chani's lovestory is central to the plot. everything happens the way that it does because paul is in love with her and treasures her above everything and, without the existence of his son, without him really seeming to truly care about her, the rest of the story is just going to come across as cheap by comparison.

i wouldn't have had as much of a problem with this if they'd started out the last film by steering it in this direction, but they so very much did not do that. this film really feels like denis villenueve was writing his own fix-it fanfic and that's what i hate about it most.

as for things i did enjoy:

everything on geidi prime; the black sun was so fucking cool. i completely forgot that was a thing from the books. i also loved how the fireworks looked like ink blots

stilgar!!! he's not really like that in the books, but i didn't even care bc it was genuinely funny and i had a good time whenever he was onscreen.

the way chani refused to bow to paul because they're supposed to be equals (you deserve so much better, babygirl, i'm so so sorry for what they've done to your story)

florence pugh did exactly what i thought she would and made me like irulan a WHOLE lot more than i do in the books and the miniseries.

crazy paul and jessica and alia!!! deeply obsessed with their evil family slay

also all the weird family stuff in general, including when feyd and harkonnen made out in front of the whole population of geidi prime

the whole bit with paul learning to ride the sandworm!! that was so fucking good

the part where paul is walking toward rabban out of the fog of the sand on arrakis after he tells muad'dib to come face him. that literally was my fav scene and it was only a few seconds long.

[darkfire359]

What could have been: sympathizing with Ed in season 2

I've talked before about how much I love Ed and all his complexity. I've written more fanfic about him and Izzy than any other characters, in my entire history of fandom. And unlike many people, I wasn't unprepared for the dark direction his arc took in season 2; I wanted him to commit MORE atrocities, and I happily made comparisons between him and another one of my favorite characters, Hannibal Lector.

But one of the key things I wanted after he committed atrocities was for him to feel bad about it. And I thought we'd see that! After all, S1 Ed was so tormented about killing his dad (who was abusive and violent towards) him that he never killed (directly) again! He was so broken up about trying to kill Stede in s1e6 that he ended up crying in a bathtub. Just like he cried in the window sill after committing all the kraken horrors in s1e10. It seemed like this was a guy scared of his own inner darkness, convinced he was a monster, who would go around saying things like "I'm not a good person" and "You were always going to realize who I am."

And so even when s2 went darker than anyone expected—when he cut off more of Izzy's toes, and shot him in the leg, and made crewmen fight to the death for experiencing love, and sailed the entire ship into a storm to murder-suicide his crew—I was still ready to accept all that moral ambiguity and give him a hug afterwards. Because of course, I figured that after Ed was brought out of that dark place and those suicidal urges, he would feel horrible remorse. How could he not?

I was looking forward to seeing him break down crying, convinced he was an irredeemable, unforgivable monster. (Which of course, would make it all the more touching when people inevitably did forgive him, and when he did redeem himself). Maybe Ed would even go too far with trying to atone, like in Mercy, one of my favorite post-s1 fics. Probably, I figured, Ed's quest for redemption would be one of the main themes in the second half of season 2.

So it was strange to watch e4, when Ed looked nothing but annoyed at everyone for chaining him up and banishing him, and then he went to hang out with his old friends like he'd done nothing wrong. When after the crew unanimously voted him out, Stede brought him back to the ship literally that same evening, and Ed saw no problem with that. Okay... maybe he's still processing?

Then e5 came, and that episode was about Ed's redemption. Yay! Except... Ed didn't seem to care? Other people made him wear the bag and the bell. He asked how long it'd take people to get over it, guessing "like a day." He gave an influencer-esque non-apology to the crew. He said "I took a man's leg" rather than calling Izzy by name. He literally doesn't remember the circumstances of pushing Lucius off the boat. He does ultimately give a real apology to Fang—for tormenting him years ago, rather than anything from his actual kraken era. I love e5 for the Izzy+Stede dynamic, but watching Ed be an unrepentant asshole here is painful. There is nothing about this that convinces me Ed wouldn't slide right back to being evil if Stede were to leave again.

And the thing is, it didn't have to be like this! We could have gotten Ed breaking down crying with guilt like in s1e6, and it would have made him much more sympathetic—not to mention the fact that Ed really is just an adorable cryer. Alternatively, we could have had some real deep diving about why Ed never apologizes (is he afraid of seeming weak?) or why he's so uncaring about others' pain (has he seen too many friends die over the years, to the point of going numb?)

By episode 6, it seems like most characters have moved on. Stede says something about Ed turning poison into positivity, which feels completely unearned. He pays for the party—but he'd previously tried to make the crew throw their cut of the loot into the ocean. He makes some attempts to best Ned and protect Stede, but Stede ends up saving the crew instead—from a pirate who only showed up in the first place because Ed was intentionally trying to piss him off. Ed is sad that Stede kills someone, and this would be a great time to again make Ed sympathetic! To have him talk about how he doesn't want that for Stede, because his own violence has weighed on him so deeply. But nope.

E6 does see Ed actually apologize to Izzy—and he's terrible at it. He's just like, "Sorry about your leg," makes no eye contact, and flees immediately afterwards. We do see some hints that this shitty apology isn't really indicative of Ed's true feelings, given how he has those flashbacks to the scenes of hurting Izzy seemingly haunting him; but it's very brief. It would be a great time to address Ed's horrific tendency towards conflict-aversion and avoiding awkward conversations in relationships—the same tendency that made s1 Ed never inform Izzy that the plan to kill Stede and the Revenge crew had changed. This would be another great opportunity to help us sympathize with Ed again—to have us see how it's not that he doesn't want to communicate these things, it's that these conversations are terribly stressful and anxiety-inducing for him. But nah, why would OFMD need to include those things for Ed?

E7 happens, and still nothing. If anything, there was a great opportunity for Ed to at least show himself to be a kind person to Stede—maybe nobly stepping in to save the day, even though he's annoyed that Stede's getting all this attention now. You know, like Stede did for him back in s1e5, when the situation was reversed. But nope, Ed runs off to be a fisherman, not having learned any of the earlier season's lessons about whims. He only stops being a fisherman because he's bad at it.

I was still hoping for something big in e8–some huge selfless, gesture that Ed would do to cover for all of his inability to do the little gestures. Ed is good at grand gestures! Swimming back to the ship after he left, then taking the Act of Grace in s1 was HUGE. Very selfless, very sweet! He could have done something like that for Izzy, Lucius, and the traumatized crew. Some kind of heroic gesture to help others more than himself. But nope. In some sense, Izzy dying is one of the greatest indications of Ed's wasted potential, because we narratively had a great opportunity for Ed to be able to save someone... but he didn't.

(Admittedly, Ed is not a complete dick here—he helps Izzy when he's limping, he says some genuinely apologetic stuff when Izzy's dying, and he finally gives Izzy his attention and care. But then after the funeral, he's still like "Well, that's that.")

It's so frustrating. It's not that I don't want to like Ed, or that I don't want to sympathize with him. I really, REALLY do! I don't even need Ed to successfully do anything to earn forgiveness! I'd take Ed trying and failing. I'd take him wanting to try, but being so convinced of his monstrousness that he never makes the attempt. But give me something. Anything other than the unexamined apathy that he has so much of the time.

The thing is, s2 lost the ability for Ed's mistreatment of people to be just another "of course he's violent, he's a pirate" quirk. They were pretty explicit about how abusive Ed was (Jim's comment in e1, the joke in e4 people assumed Ed had hit Stede) and how much he traumatized people (Lucius and the whole crew very clearly have PTSD in episodes 4 and 5). This is serious stuff, which he did to other main characters, which is going to make a lot of viewers look at him pretty harshly.

And that's manageable—Hannibal Lector managed to be most textbook-abusive asshole in the world, committing atrocities and generally being unrepentant left and right, and viewers STILL found him lovable and sympathetic. You can do that! But you need to:

a. make it clear that anyone with the relevant information calls them out for being awful, even multiple episodes later

b. make it clear that they care deeply and genuinely about their wronged loved ones

c. make them willing to actually make REAL sacrifices

I watched so many people start to dislike or outright hate Ed in season 2. It made me really sad. But I couldn't blame them for feeling that way. For all that Ed is supposedly one of the two protagonists in OFMD—a character whose mistakes should be the most understandable, whose mental state should be the most resonant—the show seemed to entirely drop the ball on writing him as such.

[jamiesfootball]

Today on the wheelodex of things I'd like to discuss regarding Mom City / the Finale-

It's fucking weird that Ted's mom didn't come to the match. I also understand it completely.

(And I don't just mean writing weird, although I do think the decision was in part made so that they wouldn't have to spend a whole character-centric episode's B-plot revolve around introducing a new character around. Which is another complaint on the overall pacing of s3, but i digress)

But I'm talking about the 'meeting someone's mom is like getting a manual on why they're nuts' of it all. Ted's mom:

Flew in from the states, without letting Ted know she was coming

Proceeded to stay at a hostel for a week, hanging around 'near' his place for ??? amount of time until he happened to walk past her

Did the 'oh no, I couldn't' dance with him regarding staying with him (conceded)

Did the 'oh no, I couldn't' dance with him regarding going to work with him (conceded)

Did the 'oh no, I couldn't' dance with him regarding going up to Manchester -- and was left back at his flat.

Like. Holy fucking shit. That was all in the span of like 1-2 days.*

This is what Ted grew up with. Someone who constantly refuses to outright ask for anything or confront anything without making it an exercise for the other person. She's so passive aggressive that makes Ted seem like a direct person in comparison.

But what's interesting to me is that when it came to coming to the match in Manchester, that's the one where Ted folded in the towel and went 'yeah just stay here then'. Because that is the antithesis of Midwestern hospitality, isn't it? To leave your guest--your mom--back at home while she's visiting while you go off and do something else, something interesting, for a long stretch of time. It certainly makes my learned southern hospitality shudder in social faux pas. That's just not done. It's rude. Ted does it anyways.

With passive aggression, it's about what's not said--not what is. Both parties tend to know that the person being passive aggressive actually wants the opposite thing. The 'polite' way to tell them 'no' is to pretend you accept what they're saying. Ted's insistence that she tag along is noticeably weaker than when he's telling her to take his bed or come to work with him. It's not that her counter-arguments are any better; it's that he does the courtesy dance in a way that gets him out of the situation by giving her what she's asking for.

So Ted, Ted, does something people could consider rude. Because the alternative is doing this goddamn song-and-dance with his mother again. And I think that's fascinating. Not just from a character perspective, but for how it shows Ted's priorities in that moment. He says it backwards, he says it in an absence, but it's implied all the same, I don't want you there.

His team is facing off against their white-whale. They've been chasing Pep's team and his strategy, and now they're going head to head. If his mom came to the match, he'd be focused on her. On making sure she was taken care of. He doesn't want that.

For him, that's about as close as we ever get to him saying that he wants something (that has nothing to do with Henry.)

Of course then, just like Jamie's dad hovers over him even when he's not there, Ted's mom follows him to Manchester in his head. When Ted talks to Jamie, he's got one foot back in his kitchen at home. He's there, but he's not there. He's talking to Jamie, but he's talking to himself.

And it makes me wonder how often this was the case--how often did he throw in the towel and give her what she asked for because he just couldn't take being the one who had to handle all the decisions. It's a backwards negotiation, making his mother show up for him. She does love him, but god you can see how much strain reassuring her that he loves her too takes.

If I may be so bold, I think Ted also deserved to say 'fuck you' to his mom without attaching a 'thank you'.

*(SIDE COMPLAINT - The timeline of Mom City expands and contracts to fill the narrative space as needed, and it was goddamn infuriating to write about just tell me when things happen damnit)

[throwaway-yandere]

"Aren't You Supposed To Hate Me?" (Yandere Modern!Il Dottore/Reader)

CW: mild yandere

the real a/n: if you see me putting too many sylvia plath references, no– no you did not. Also, webttore rights. I promise he's not that bad bakery anon pls don't kill me-. ALSO LOGO'S MADE BY ESTHER ANON!!!

Mother of Klee, Alice’s note: When your bakery opens, can you make some Eton mess? What? “That’s not on the menu…?” Well, you should add it! My darling Klee looks adorable eating strawberries! Oh, but you're not leaving Teyvat Pro, right?

Yandere! 1k Idol Match-up Event

---------

According to what people have said about you, you exude calmness. And that it’s a strength. That your soothing and somewhat “motherly” presence puts you one step forward more than most people. But why isn’t your composure congruent with the frantic screaming inside of you that begged this lunatic to quit clutching your baking supplies?

Damn, this isn't the time to NOT be assertive, assistant (Y/n). Pull yourself together.

"Please stop. You're strangling it."

"We all die, (Y/n). The sooner you internalize that, the better."

The man in front of you is none other than your boss: "Il Dottore", the man behind the idol group ADDICKTZ's creative decisions. You have been given the responsibility of maintaining order among the original 4 ADDICKTZ members while he deals with the second batch after he chose you out of the other 22 interviewees. 

"Sir, we're just baking. Please use a proper measuring cup. Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor–"

"Master. Not sir. I suggest you speak to me in a more respectful tone, Assistant (Y/n). The mere fact of your utility does not make you indestructible."

"I understand that very well, sir– Master, but please put the dough down. I cannot allow you to do the frosting at this rate."

Dang Akademiyan scholars and their honorifics.

Zandik huffed, unsatisfied, before leaning back on his chair. 

"Mind you, I'm a licensed surgeon." He boasted snarkily. "I'd certainly outmatch you when it comes to steady hands, assistant."

"Well– shame that a medical degree does not automatically mean you'd be good at art, then."

"(Y/n), did I hire an imbicile? Answer me, who exactly are you working for?"

"You, Master Zandik." 

"And my occupation?"

" ADDICKTZ’s Creative Director–"

Zandik smugly raised an eyebrow.

"... I admit defeat."

ADDICKTZ values both of your artistic inputs. Even after work hours, you've done what you can to support DCKZ. You helped Diluc choose a haiku to confess his emotions not long ago, and more recently, you aided Zhongli to find inspiration in contemporary poetry for his lyrics. Sir Zandik, on the other hand, would help the group's plans progress from simple masquerades to a magnificent mashup of VISUAL Kei and distinctive pop elements with unbuckled bones facing the front view just tasteful enough to adhere to the unit's usual aesthetics.

Of course, these tasks are obviously trivial in comparison to what your "real work" entailed, and the CEO would split hairs if you joked about retiring. The doctor is no different; in fact, he is the most guilty of this dependence. Normally, superiors wouldn't break into their staff members' closed bakery at 2 in the morning on a Saturday, but Il Dottore has a few loose screws.

Partly, it's your fault too because Zandik has a crush on you.

That's not your ego talking– he admitted it three days ago. Maybe you would've accepted that confession if he didn't utter another word, you did hear Sohrah and the other staff members mention that he's some eye candy. The nose, the eye pits, the full set of pearly white teeth– those mean nothing when the person is Zandik. His personality is as foul as the things Ayato bought in the ADDICKTZ's hotpot game. You’re never crossing the water for an obvious red flag.

Following his direct confession, he went on to enumerate all of your faults in a psychopathic and alphabetical order. As to add more salt into the wound, Zandik brought out printed pictures and pointed at all the blemishes on your face that needed fixing before tossing a plastic surgeon's business card at you.  What an absolute jerk. Not the most romantic confession out there, but he did ask you out, right?

WRONG.

After his long spiel about being burdened by unnecessary dependence on you, he gave you an incentive to "look more unattractive during work hours" with a pay raise. 

So, Herr Doktor. So, Herr Enemy. Yet, you can't loathe Zandik when he's THAT honest about his avid repulsed fascination. The man is mad, but being mad doesn’t make him stupid. He wants the exact opposite of the likable behavior reinforcement theory coming from you. Zandik would sooner receive the loving embrace of an iron maiden than be in a rendezvous. He wholeheartedly believes that love is an illusion of a Greek necessity– whatever that meant. 

You were ready to argue when he pulled out a contract that Zhongli had revised for added credence. As self-preservation reared its not noble but necessary head, your anger left you. His proposed numbers were bafflingly astronomical that you might just quit your job after the first pay…

The moon has nothing to be sad about once it witnesses your dreams bear fruit. Zandik knows that as well, that's why he visited your little bakery before its opening day, demanding that you make him any type of pastries. Unfortunately, you're the type who would adjust your schedule for others and not the other way around.

Zandik wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeves. "Mind if I strip?"

"E-Excuse me?" You chuckled nervously. "Strip your apron, right?"

"Hair extensions, assistant." He clicked his tongue, amused. "With some common sense, you would’ve discovered that they get in the way and that these two long strands are artificial. Clearly, you lack some degree of rigor expected for an assistant."

Should’ve expected as much. This is the same man who cut off Childe's hair because he's "so damn tired seeing everyone in this forsaken group have the same fucking rat tail." You're pretty sure the only person who thought it was mildly amusing was Dainsleif.

Still… Last time, he told you those two strands were part of his hair. Zandik is not the type who would pettily lie for a joke. He's as straightforward as CEO Alhaitham– for better or for worse. Maybe he has a twin brother or something… 

No, that’s just inconceivable.

Zandik watched in amusement as your forehead creased. 

"You should've worded that differently… Doesn’t matter. Is there a flavor you’d like? Chocolates or...?"

He answered immediately. “Strawberries. Saw Alice ate some with her daughter last night.”

“Definitely it's not because it's your favorite, I’m aware,” you mused sarcastically. “Since you’re not actually into strawberries, might I suggest chocolate?”

Zandik glared. “Why?”

You batted your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, doctor, don’t you know chocolates have the love drug? As Langston Hughes would say “Have you dug the spill of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims, on this sepia thrill–”."

“Debunked. It’s laughable that you would insinuate such an incorrect notion.” Zandik scoffed loudly. “Chocolates don’t directly pass phenylethylamine to our nervous system, you’re more likely to excrete these pathetic sweets off your a–” 

Never been a romantic. Dottore somehow loves to make it a point to remind you of that foul personality trait of his in every conversation.

“Alright, that’s enough. It’ll be strawberry flavored.” You sighed as you placed the tray inside the oven. “Might I say, you’re acting rather… cocky, for a lack of a better term, with how I should handle my work.” 

“In my many years of living, I’ve learned that arrogance is a side-effect of truth and intelligence.”

“Yes, but your methods of holding that dough is quite barbaric. Please let it go.”

“Tsk.”

Dead hands, dead stringencies– Zandik simply lacks the talent for baking due to his rigidity. He dropped the dough and you smirked for a second, relieved. You secretly have a competitive side and you'd hate to admit that you're scared he might just beat you at your own game because of the frostings.  

“Master Zandik, please just sit down. There are empty chairs at empty tables–”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his legs on your table. You tried not to scream at him about hygiene and barely succeeded. “Friends are all dead and gone– I know. Do not think you can reference Les Miserables without me knowing, baker.”

You shook your head as you set the timer. While you were preoccupied, it seemed as if the doctor just couldn’t sit still.

“Hmph, this is the only thing of interest I’ve found in your precious little bakery thus far.”

You turned to look at him.

Zandik paused in front of the small wall of photographs you had on display. A smile crept on your face as you remembered how proud you were of organizing the photos of your friends and family into a heart-shaped mosaic. There is a tiny square space in the middle and he correctly inferred that will be the center will be used to display a photo of the bakery's opening day. Be that as it may, his attention lay elsewhere.

"You had a violent streak, didn't you?"

"... Pardon?"

"You were the "problem child", that's my assessment," Zandik smirked, detaching a photograph from your wall, which surprised you since you've had trouble easing them free. 

He specifically picked the photo you took during kindergarten with your grandma. 

"You had scraped knees and elbows but you don't have that stereotypical dumb boyish smile. You seem to have quite a pronounced frown. Would I be wrong to assume you weren't well-liked in your school–"

“Put it back.” While you do generally dislike being put under a spotlight, the cause of your harsh delivery stems from his unpleasant phrasings.

Zandik pretended not to hear you, "–I'm not teasing you. I would know this because I had a photo similar to this one."

For a moment, you saw a flicker of melancholic humanity in your otherwise monstrously rigid employer. You thought that vulnerable display would be brief, but the hollow chuckle that echoed proved that this event will mark a milestone in your "work" relationship.

Master Zandik is opening up to you.

"Unlike this cute and happy memento, I don't have a grandmother who would take a picture with me. I’ve lost them all in the fire." He muttered, his voice low and his eyes squinting. "Hence the reason why I squandered most of my hours burying my nose in textbook after textbook. Pantalone and I had to prove ourselves worthy of living a life outside the orphanage. But this picture…"

Your boss grumbled. "This picture looks awfully similar to the only childhood picture I have taken. A large frown, beat-up uniform– a rage that I can relate to. I understand your child self all too well. Too well, in fact, that I feel the urge to burn this photograph like what I’ve done with mine."

He traced his thumb around your young self's image, shockingly intimate.

You blinked incessantly, trying to process all the information that he told you. First, your boss has no family left. Second, he’s an orphan raised alongside sir Pantalone. Third, he burned the only picture he had when he was a kid. You would pinch yourself but this conversation is jaggedly real. 

As sensitive as this topic may be, your skepticism slips out as easily as breathing. "You burned your only childhood photo?"

Zandik ruminated. 

"Curious as to what I would've looked like? You don’t seem to find my decision very agreeable."

"Who would?" You didn't mean to whine, but the tone of your voice made you sound like complaining. "What possessed you to do that?! Now no one would know what you looked like, not even yourse–"

"I didn't look too different as to who I am now," Zandik answered, his usual confidence coming back. "Only back then, shades of purple bruises would overlap my face, arms, legs, and stomach. If I loathed my natural features I would've done something drastic to tweak my appearance."

"Of course, you would, hair surgeon." You jokingly muttered Childe's best Dottore insult.

"What was that?"

For the sake of the hair Ajax is trying to grow out, you need to change the subject, fast.

"Master Zandik, I have to ask– aren’t you supposed to hate me? Pray tell, what are you doing here then?”

It’s been bothering you since he walked in. If he wants his “crush” for you to disappear, then why the hell is he spending more time with you?

Surprisingly, Zandik was also stunned by your question. His eyes went wide, perplexed.

“... What are you talking about?”

“You know what I meant.” You deadpanned. “The contract, what else?”

“Contract?” He squinted. “What contract? Is it a contract revised by Zhongli?”

“An astute guess.” You mocked his tone. “Yes, it is. Perhaps we’ve handled so many workloads the past month because of Sir Alberich’s eye-plucking shenanigans that’s why you forgot. To put it simply, you ordered me to act less attractive in exchange for a pay raise.”

“What?”

He looked at you incredulously, as if you were joking.

“Is this some kind of twisted joke?” Zandik huffed. “I would do no such thing. That’s...”

His demeanor shifted once, then twice. After a moment of silence, he nodded.

“Forgive me, you’re right. I did propose that contract, haven’t I?”

“Yes, Master.”

“And I also confessed my affection for you as well?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Pity.” He muttered, his tone grieving. “There should be no other person who can understand me more than I do.” 

Zandik glared. “But why on earth is He trying to sabotage us.”

He?

“What are you talking about?”

Zandik gritted his teeth and smiled. “No matter. There’s no need for concern, darling.”

…

Did Master Zandik always have shark-like teeth?

He reached out and ruffled your hair slightly, but there is an ominous aura that lingered in his expression. It was akin to self-loathing, but not quite. Zandik pulled his hand back slowly, clenching it into a fist as he walked away.

You will never understand what he was talking about. After all, “Zandik” failed to mention the most important aspect of that photograph.

He had no parents, aunts, uncles, cousins… But the outcast did stand next to someone in that single childhood photo he had.

And that person was the picture-perfect imitation of himself, the perfect “sibling”.

Il Dottore laughed.

Now, if he could just throw him in the fire too…

Ansytea: Thank you so much for joining the match-up event Bakery Anon! Please don't chop, cook, and serve me to faceless!ayato–

[luvring]

If it's okay could you please say your thoughts of Vere and Ais (separately) with someone that is insecure of not being good enough for them after learning they are with each other before?

AIS & VERE WITH AN S/O INSECURE OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP

gn!reader | meeoewww. their overarching reactions are similar imo which is why i got. stuck. trying not 2 be repetitive. But that's just how the cookie crumbles...! they love u and only u

AIS

ais has a pretty good handle on having conversations and reading moods, both from leader experience and Boyfriend/You experience. he'll have noticed something's off, but won't bring it up until you're home. he asks if you want to talk about what's bothering you, whatever it is.

if you try to brush him off, he won't directly say Bullshit, but he's quiet for enough time that you know he isn't calling you on it on purpose. he'll wait as long as he needs to

lets out a deep breath when he realizes how he's been making you feel, even if he wasn't aware of it. you apologize sort of as a default reaction and he immediately says you don't have to

i think he would talk about his relationship with vere and how and why it ultimately didn't work out. and how you were different from the get-go with how you met and your relationship developed in comparison. ais would also bring up how he thinks their relationship wouldn't have worked out in the long run, and how he likes to go do mundane chores with you, but wouldn't have with vere in the past

^ the chores thing i'm seeing said as a lighthearted joke, maybe about never going grocery shopping with vere or something, just to lift your spirits a little before he reassures you that you have nothing to worry about.

once you've talked about it, ais makes an effort to spend more time with you and be more affectionate! showing up wherever you said you'd be going the next day instead of waiting for you to come to the seaspring, having his arm around you when possible, etc. he'll also relax with his,, Attitude for a while.

the attitude one might be a little subconscious.. he still teases you, but seeing you upset and knowing he was part of it kind of affects him, even after you've talked through it. once you're back to, for lack of better wording at 1 am, fucking around with him,, so is he!

you notice how he invites you out more than usual, and he says it's because he doesn't like being lonely, you know that. you're both aware of the underlying reasoning though.

he'd like if you and vere were able to get along, and he's always there wordlessly reassuring you that he's unapologetically yours, but if you want to take your time, he's okay with that too

VERE

he almost immediately notices something is off when you don't return his teasing comments or fluster from his flirtation.

Calls you on your bullshit. with a little more tact, depending on how you'd react. if he doesn't straight up say "bullshit," he might say something like "are you really trying to lie to me?"

after you've explained how you feel, he stays quiet for a while, both to think about what to say and to give you some time before he responds

direct with his words. things like "i don't like him like that anymore." and "i'm with you for a reason, you know. i don't just date anyone."

the kind of guy to make sure you're looking at him when he reminds you that you're lucky special enough to get his attention, and to break down his walls.

he tells you about how different your relationships are objectively and to Him. how none of his past relationships affect how he feels about you, the same way he wouldn't expect yours to (if you have any). and vere can't deny or ignore his relationship with ais, how close they are compared to most other people—really, he won't. he thinks it'd be shitty to everyone involved if he tried. but he wants you to know that doesn't affect how much he cares about you in a much more intimate, long-term way

in general, vere doesn't act too differently from usual once you've talked about your feelings. he might relax on the innuendos, but you can never take his wittiness away from this guy. he ends up choosing some more sfw teasing/flirting instead.

at some point in the week after, whenever you all meet up, vere makes a point to stick by you and to think of a comment related to You being the one person in this place he'd go home with, even without

ais would do the same thing, but if there were any random reason where vere had to choose between the two of you (for something silly and fun ! perhaps a game team) he won't even make a joke about not choosing you.

well. at least not for a While,, like when he's confident you're both in a good place he might tease you again. but not any time soon !

[spacecasehobbit]

Thinking some Azula thoughts today, in particular about her mindset during that final Agni Kai with Zuko and why it wouldn't have been a positive thing for her recovery if Zuko had refused to fight just because she was in a bad mental place.

When Zuko and Katara arrive at the palace, the audience knows that Azula is in the midst of a paranoid breakdown because she is feeling betrayed an abandoned by the people she trusted. We also know that the reason she trusted people like Mai and Ty Lee to stick by her side, the reason she expected people like her ship crew at the start of s2 or her servants in the palace to obey her commands and be loyal to her, is because they fear her.

She expects people to fear her because she's a prodigy who has been treated by Ozai as the golden child who can do no wrong all her life. She expects that fear to motivate loyalty and obedience because she's also been taught by Ozai that strength and power and the use of those things to instill fear are the only way to prove one's value; she's bought into Ozai's view that life can only ever have winners and losers, that the winners deserve absolutely loyalty, that the losers deserve to be hurt and used and tossed aside whenever they're no longer of use, and that up until recently she has unquestionably been a winner.

And now she's seriously questioning that view of herself for the first time.

She brought Zuko home to the palace and Ozai with the belief that she knew how to control him, that she could treat him however she wanted because she was stronger and smarter and better than him. Instead, he kept secrets of his own from her, revealed to Ozai that she'd brought him home on a lie, and ran away to join the Avatar. Then Mai and Ty Lee turned against and refused to let fear keep them loyal to her anymore when she demanded things they weren't willing to do.

Then she tried to go with Ozai to burn the EK down, and he effective tossed her aside the way that losers can be thrown aside and forgotten.

By the time Zuko arrives, Azula is in desperate need of someone she can use to reaffirm her own value by proving the lack of theirs. She's lost, she's spiraling, she's questioning her strength and her intelligence and her right to be treated as better than the people around her because of those things. Then along comes Zuko, the scapegoat, the weak and silly and stupid child, the one who would never catch up to her or earn their father's approval and respect like her.

The one who she could always count on to fail and make her look better in comparison.

To her, this Agni Kai with Zuko is "the showdown that was always meant to be," because it's the showdown that she was never meant to lose. If there was one thing Ozai taught her that she could always count on growing up, it was that she was strong and Zuko was weak. And maybe Zuko surprised her once when he ran off to join the Avatar instead of staying under her thumb at the palace where she wanted him, but that also wasn't a direct fight. If her recent 'failures' to keep people obedient to her through fear can be flukes, moments of weakness that don't make her weak, then Zuko's recent surprising behavior can be a fluke too. They can be moments of unexpected cleverness that still don't make him strong.

Or, more importantly, that don't make him stronger than Azula.

Refusing to fight wouldn't challenge any of this, for Azula. She could write off any reasoning Zuko gave about her mental state or concern for her wellbeing as Zuko trying to cover up his fear, and she could tell herself that she would have won, if Zuko hadn't been too afraid to fight. Not only that, but she was always taught that Zuko's compassion was what made him weak. Refusing to fight out of compassion for Azula would only confirm that view, in her mind.

On Zuko's side, refusing to fight out of concern for Azula would have been putting compassion for one person - one person who had repeatedly shown themselves to lack compassion and empathy for others, one person who had repeatedly shown themselves willing to use violence as a means to control and dominate those around them - above the needs of the rest of the world (including the rest of the FN) to have a Fire Lord who would be committed to peace with the other nations.

If Zuko can stop Azula and secure the crown for himself through an Agni Kai, then he only has to defeat one person before he can get on with the work of committing the FN to peace, instead of fighting his way through however many guards Azula can throw at him and Katara and still likely wind up fighting Azula afterwards anyway.

He knows that Azula backing down peacefully isn't an option he can reasonably expect or hope for, because he knows Azula. He grew up with Azula, he went through his own phase of trying desperately to mimic the lessons about strength and power that Azula had already been mimicking from Ozai when they were kids. And he knows very well that no matter how much love and compassion and empathy is shown to a hurting, frightened kid who is choosing violence and threats and fear to prove their own value to themself, that kindness alone won't stop that kid from lashing out at those who don't deserve it.

And Azula won't be ready to learn that her value doesn't rest on being 'better' than anyone and everyone else around her, that she can be loved without being feared, until she is forced to face the fact that she isn't strong enough to make the whole world bow to her without ever losing a fight.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Tender Loving Care - Sam Drake X GN Reader

Title: Tender Loving Care

Sam Drake X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Nathan (Mentioned), Sully (Mentioned), and Reader's friends (Mentioned)

Requested by: @a-very-bored-blogger

WC: 3,763

Warnings: Sickfic, bar mentioned, alcohol mentioned, italics, smoking, nicknames, brief mention of snakes, movie reference, banter, flirting, teasing, confession, mini angst, and fluff

Waking up with a sore throat and a snotty nose was not how you wanted to start your day. At all. Your eyes felt crusty from sleep, or your sickness and your whole body felt achy and cold. Well, no work today for you, that's for sure. You were not going to get up, get dressed, and everything, just to suffer through eight or nine hours of dealing with people. That sounded like torture, and you didn't want to risk getting anyone else sick. One part of you was pretty elated, you didn't really care much for your job. But, the other part of you was going to miss your best friend, Sam. The both of you had planned to go out to dinner together.

You and Sam met when he rode into your sleepy little town on his motorcycle. You were on your way to college, walking down the sidewalk when he pulled up to you. He asked for directions to the closest motel and you answered politely; whilst also trying not to get too caught up in how handsome he was.

Throughout his stay in your little town, you had bumped into him many times. On the fourth time, you were with friends at a bar. You had been chatting with them, laughing and having a good time as you usually did, before one of your friends nudged you in the side. You looked at them, seeing their bright, mischievous grin and the glint in their eyes; watching as they gestured with their eyes to the other side of the room. 

You turned your head, looking over, only to freeze. There, at the other side of the bar, was the mysterious stranger that rode into town only a few days prior. The stranger that you had learned was called Sam Drake; his eyes flickered over to you. You had bumped into them three times before - as previously said - and all three times, you felt this immense connection between the two of you. 

Before you knew it, you found yourself walking to the other side of the bar; with a smidge of help from your friends, your confidence grew; albeit with the help of some liquid courage. You stood with him, leaning against the bar as you sipped one of your drinks.

You finally got to know the mysterious Sam, finding out that he was a treasure hunter; which definitely intrigued you. He told you the many stories of his adventures, from Captain Avery's treasure to just traveling around different countries with his brother. 

When it was your turn to speak, you almost felt that your life was practically nothing in comparison to his. You didn't go off on amazing adventures or found long lost treasure. You worked a simple - yet boring - nine to five job. You had friends, went out to the arcade and the movies sometimes, but never anything as amazing as what Sam said he did. You hadn't even traveled outside of the country. But you spoke your part, and Sam didn't turn away. He didn't yawn, he didn't stray his eyes, and he didn't try to interrupt you. You had his full and complete attention. 

And, well... To make a long story short. The two of you quickly became best friends.

Sam stayed in the town for the next month, playing the excuse that he needed a small vacation from his treasure hunting. You greatly doubted that. But, for that month, you spent most of the time together. You showed him around, introduced him to your friends, and even went on mini adventures on that motorcycle of his together. You were both joined at the hip, and you - and Sam - wouldn't have it any other way. 

But he did have to go. You had learned that Sam never liked to stay in one place for too long. And before you knew it, he was heading off to Granada, Spain. You were incredibly crestfallen. You didn't want him to go so soon, but then he asked you something that you couldn't refuse. 

He asked you to come with him.

You couldn't say ‘no.’ How could you say ‘no?’ This was your chance to get out of the country, to get away from your sleepy little town, to get away and go on a real adventure. You asked your boss for the time off, packed your bags, and off you and Sam went - with the help of his friend Sully - whom you grew to adore as a father figure. 

Granada was beautiful. The architecture, the culture, the food, everything. You wished that you could stay there forever. Sam - quite literally - taught you the ropes, teaching you how to toss a grapple hook and swing across high cliffs. You traveled through forests, through old ruins, and even helped Sam find the lost jewels of Enrique Gómez. It was adrenaline-filled, and exciting. 

You didn't know when, or where in Granada, but you found yourself falling for the thief. You quite thought that he stole your heart. And you did not want it back. You loved how passionate he got when he spoke about an artifact or some treasure he had planned to find in the future. You loved the way his face lit up when he found something amazing to show you. You loved how the corners of his eyes would crinkle when he laughed. You loved his voice when he spoke about anything and everything; you could listen to him talk for hours. And you loved his eyes... They held so many emotions, and if you held his gaze long enough, you believed that you'd fall into those dark abysses of his. 

This realization however, made your life a bit more difficult.

~~~

Groaning slightly, you pouted, not even wanting to move an inch; it felt like your skin was on fire, yet you were freezing. However, you needed to use the bathroom, and your nose was beginning to run, so you had to get up. After you were finished, you headed downstairs to find some tissues so you didn't have to use toilet paper, grabbed your carton of ice cream from the freezer for your sore throat, and headed back to your room. Dealing with your nose, you sniffled before heading to your closet to find your fuzzy bathrobe. Slipping that on, you almost felt a little better before heading to your TV, sliding your ‘Superman ll’ VHS tape into the player. Sitting on your bed, your back against the headboard, you slowly ate your ice cream as you watched your movie; feeling groggy and aching. 

~~~

Sam waited by his motorcycle, leaning on the diner building’s wall, as he waited for you; taking a drag from his cigarette. He was becoming a bit restless, with his foot tapping against the pavement. Near the beginning of his friendship with you, he insisted that he would pick you up in the evenings when you both had planned to have dinner together, but you insisted back, wanting to use your own car; not wanting Sam to waste his motorcycle’s gas more than he had to. Sam had been a bit disappointed in the beginning. He thought picking you up would be a great opportunity to spend more time with you, but it didn’t take Sam long to agree with you.

But as he waited, and waited, Sam began to wonder and worry about you. What if something happened? What if you got caught in traffic? Sam scoffed to himself on that. Traffic? There was hardly any, if not zero, traffic in your little town; Sam came to realize that after staying there for the past month or so. So, where were you? 

Were you okay?

Though Sam was used to feeling worried and uneasy - especially for his brother, Nathan - he still wasn't used to the feeling. In addition to these feelings that grew whenever he saw you. This intense sense of desire to protect, hold, and cherish you. It scared the hell out of him. It scared him because he didn't know how to handle it. He was a flirt. He was someone who enjoyed the thrill of danger. He probably couldn't count how many one-night stands he had. But this… This… It felt so different. He wasn’t a ‘settle down’ kind of guy. But, Sam believed that he could be for you.

He sighed heavily, smoke expelled from his mouth as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and stared at it. You told him to quit, but it was difficult. He had cut back on how many cigarettes he smoked in a day - smoking only one or two a day. He wanted to quit; he really did - especially for you. But every once in a while, he’d lose himself and he’d start smoking again. Just a tiny bit of nicotine and he’d be good as new. Sam sighed again; staring at the cigarette for a moment before tossing it onto the ground, squishing it with the heel of his boot, and pushing himself off the wall. Sam stuffed his hands into his Jeans pockets as a couple left the diner; their laughter echoing throughout the air. Sam felt that he had waited long enough, hopping onto his bike. The trip to your house was a short one, and when Sam saw your car in the driveway, he let out a sigh of relief. 

Slipping off his bike, he walked up to the front door, ringing the doorbell. Shuffling his feet on the porch, he stuffed his hands back into his jean jacket pockets, hearing shuffling behind the door. As you opened the door, Sam's awaiting grin dropped when he saw your appearance. You stood at the open door, hand holding onto the door frame to support your weight. You were wrapped up in your fuzzy bathrobe, your hair a bit messy, and still in your pajamas. Your eyes were glassy, your eyelids were hooded, and your nose red. 

"Oh, sweetheart..." Sam muttered, as you sniffled, "Why didn't you tell me that you were sick? Why didn't you call me?"

"Hello, handsome," You gave him a small, tired smile, moving out of the way as he quickly entered, "I'm sorry, I should've called..." You muttered, closing the door behind yourself. "I just didn't want you to worry about me. I'm fine now, it's just a cold." You tried to reassure him, letting out a yawn.

Sam shook his head, raising his hand to press the inside of his wrist against your forehead, "Y/N, you're hot."

You let out a small laugh, having to turn and cover your mouth as you let out a nasty cough, "Thanks, you are too."

"No, sweetheart, you're really burning up." He spoke, "Come on, let's get you back into bed." You nodded slowly, following Sam up the stairs and back into your room. Sam pulled your blankets back as you climbed in; unable to stop smiling as Sam began to tuck you in perfectly. You hummed happily, snuggling deeper under your blankets before turning around to lay on your back, closing your eyes. "Do you need anything? Water, food?" Sam asked, watching as you shook your head. He let out a sigh as he ran his hand through your hair, pushing it from your sweaty forehead. 

"I'm good, thank you, Sammy." You spoke, clearing your throat slightly as you opened your eyes again, "You're too good for me." You mumbled, your eyes closing once more as you fell asleep.

Sam sighed once more as your breathing began to slow, your chest rising and falling peacefully. Standing from your bed, he headed out of your house, but not before grabbing your house keys from the hook by the door. 

~~~

You didn't know how long you had slept, or what time it was, but when you opened your eyes, you found the sun rising outside your bedroom window. Blinking rapidly you took in a deep breath, and sat up. As you push yourself to lean back against your headrest, you let out another cough, rubbing your sore throat with your hand. Looking around, you found Sam's jean jacket on the back of your desk chair, his shoes next to yours by your closet. You couldn't help but smile as you brushed your hair back, wondering where he was. But, your question was quickly answered as you heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and it wasn't long until your bedroom door opened. 

Sam entered, dressed in his jeans and maroon v-neck, holding a bowl. Noticing that you were awake, Sam's frown flipped right around. "Afternoon, gorgeous."

"Gorgeous?" You let out a small laugh, watching as he sat down the steaming bowl on your bedside table. It looked like soup. "I bet I look like a mess, but, thank you." You smiled brightly at him, sitting up. "So, where have you been?"

He continued to grin, running a hand through his hair, "Out n' about."

"Out? Where?" You pressed, furrowing your eyebrows together.

"Well, I went to the store, and got you a few things that you might need..." He replied, grinning as he continued, going around your bed to grab a brown paper bag from the end of your bed; placing it down near your feet, "And then I made you soup. Your tea is doing whatever tea does in the kitchen. I was going to go grab it after I gave you your soup. But now that you're awake..." He trailed off, digging through the bag to pull out the items he grabbed for you.

"Sam, did you really?" You asked with a smile, excitement, and surprise in your voice, and your stomach filled with warmth as he nodded. "Is that chocolate?" You asked as Sam pulled out a few packs of crackers, some chocolate bars, a box of tissues, and a few small bottles of water.

"Yeah. I didn't know how much you needed. Or what you wanted..." He muttered, placing them all on your nightstand; the last item being an ibuprofen bottle. "But, I also saw this when I was out, and thought you might like it." He spoke, going back into the paper bag, and pulling out a book. You blinked a few times before your eyes widened, looking up at Sam in shock. 

Reaching out, you took the book into your hands, a gasp leaving you, "Sam... This is ‘The Trials of Marine Beaumont’! The legendary French pirate that revolutionized European history in the seventeenth century! How did you get this? It’s been sold out everywhere." Sam shrugged lightly, giving a halfhearted smile as he took a seat at the edge of your bed. "Who knew that a small cold would bring out the nurse in you. You spoil me.”

"Don’t think that’s an excuse for you to get sick again." He smirked at you softly, “And I always spoil you.” His chocolate brown eyes gazed down at you. "How do you feel?" He then asked, shifting closer to your side.

"A little better... My throat is a bit sore, but otherwise, I feel great." You smiled softly, glancing over at your alarm clock, "It's almost two... Did you stay here all night last night?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "I didn't know if you'd need me for anything... So, I slept on the couch."

You sat the book down beside you on the bed, "Sammy... You should've just taken the guest bedroom. That couch is so small."

Sam just shrugged, his fingers fiddling with the edge of the handmade quilt, "Slept on worse," He joked, looking up at you, finding you already looking at him. Clearing his throat, he pressed his fist to his mouth briefly, "So, you hungry? Don't want your soup to get cold."

You hummed, nodding as your smile softened, "Yeah, it smells amazing."

~~~

"Snakes... Why is it always snakes..?" 

Your bedroom was dark, only the light from your TV illuminating the room. You were sitting on your bed, leaning against the headboard, Sam beside you; his arm wrapped around your shoulders. An empty bowl sat on your bedside table, along with your new book, your empty tea cup, and your alarm clock - which read; seven-thirty-three. 

Your cheek was pressed snuggly against Sam's shoulder, eyes glued to your TV as Indiana Jones found himself surrounded by snakes. Your nose felt dry, as did your throat; and you coughed. Sam rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder. Sam blindly reached for the half-empty water bottle beside him, before handing it to you. 

"Thank you..." You muttered, taking small sips from the bottle. "You know," You began, clearing your throat a bit, "He reminds me of you."

Sam looked down at you, his brows knitting in confusion. "Who?"

You shook your head, "Indiana Jones." You chuckled softly, setting the bottle of water on the nightstand, "He loves adventure, going from place to place, finding treasures..." You trailed off, grabbing a tissue from the tissue box and blowing your nose. "Though I will admit, you're funnier than him." You said, throwing away the tissue in your small, plastic trash can.

"You don't say," Sam smiled, his lips grazing the tip of your head, before looking back at the TV.

"I do say," You mumbled, nuzzling your cheek on the soft fabric of his sleeve. "I love that about you. No matter how I am feeling, or what situation, you always make me laugh."

Sam suddenly felt warm, his heart fluttering as he smiled. "Hey, I am a man of many talents." Sam breathed out, his thumb running across your shoulder gently.

"Yes, you are," You grinned, just as the infamous Indiana Jones pulled his way out of the snake pit. But at the sound of your little hum, Sam looked back down at you. Feeling his eyes on you, you looked up at him. "What?" You asked, biting off a piece of your chocolate bar.

Sam tilted his head to the side slightly, his dark eyes searching yours before he spoke, "What was that little hum all about?" He asked, his grin turning mischievous.

"What hum?" You giggled quietly, moving the chocolate bar from your mouth.

"You hummed, sweetheart." He raised an eyebrow, "What popped up in that beautiful mind of yours?"

You bit your bottom lip, re-wrapping the chocolate bar and setting it over on your bedside table. You watched Sam closely, as he looked back at you. He seemed curious, waiting for your answer patiently. "Nothing important..." You spoke softly, suddenly becoming nervous. Sam could tell that something was bothering you. "Um, Sam," You paused, licking your lips nervously. "Can I ask you something?" You started, not meeting his eyes.

"You can ask me anything," He told you, his hand on your shoulder gently playing with your hair. You nodded, staring down at your hands in your lap. The short silence between the two of you hung thick and heavy. Sam could hear your breathing slowly getting heavier and heavier. After a moment, he sighed, deciding to speak first; seeing as you never had a problem talking to him, even when it came to the serious stuff. "Y/N?" His voice sounded gentle, his tone kind as he spoke to you.

"When are you going to leave?" You asked, continuing to stare down at your lap, as Sam felt a wave of panic - and slight hurt - settle in his stomach.

"I can leave-"

"No!" You cried out,, your hand grabbing his, quickly lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. "I mean... Um... I- uh, Do you have any plans on leaving any time soon? Y’know, going off on another adventure?" What you really wanted to ask was if he had plans of leaving you soon. You knew that Sam wasn't the kind of guy to stay in one place for too long. He had told you, and it was very apparent in the many stories that he told you, that it was only a matter of time. 

He stared down at you, watching the nervous expression on your face shift to worry. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he opened them again, "Not right now. It might be a while. Maybe in a week or two. Not sure." Sam admitted before his expression suddenly turned serious. The intensity in his eyes caused your breath to catch in your throat, but with a somewhat defeated sigh, he dropped his eyes from you to the still-playing TV. As Indiana swooped down with his lady-love in his arms, Sam pursed his lips; his eyes narrowing in deep thought. "I'm not good at this," He muttered, and you could tell that he was speaking more to himself than anyone else.

Your brows furrowed, "At what?"

Sam hesitated for a few moments, before speaking. "Love," He explained, his brown eyes boring into yours, causing you to blink once, twice. "I've been in love before, Y/N, but... I've never felt anything like what I do towards you. It's hard for me to put words to my feelings, but... I guess what I'm trying to say is..." He trailed off, not knowing how to continue. "You make me want to be that 'settle down' type of guy, sweetheart." You swallowed thickly at his confession.

You suddenly forgot how terrible you felt - forgetting about the stuffy nose, the sore throat, and your aching muscles - you simply focused on him. His gentle touch as his hand covered yours, his words echoing through your head as you gazed into those same deep brown orbs. His words made your insides melt, and your cheeks flushed. You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper, and deeper. "Really?" You asked, you couldn't help yourself, letting out a small giggle; you felt your eyes tear up slightly.

"Yeah," Sam breathed, "Really." He repeated, reaching out to cup your warm cheek.

You sighed, "If I wasn't sick right now, I would kiss you," You stated honestly, feeling a rush of excitement course through your veins as you stared into his eyes.

Sam grinned, narrowing his eyes playfully, "I don't mind getting sick, if it means kissing you,"

You couldn't help but laugh, before turning away swiftly to let out a rough cough into the sleeve of your elbow. "First thing when I'm better, how about that?" You suggested, looking back up at him, unable to keep your wide smile off of your face.

Sam chuckled lightly, looping his arm back around your shoulders, the both of you settling back to watch the rest of the Indiana Jones movie, "I'll hold you to that."

---

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