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undercoverpena · 8 months

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i. aren’t repulsed by me

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter one of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

chapter warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. smut. p in v. dirty talk.

an: the biggest hug to @ghostaholics because without her allowing me to waffle saturday night, all of this wouldn't be here. a huge thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for reading this and telling me i should post it, and to my eyes all over my skies @guyfieriii

wordcount: 4k

“You’re late.”

Frankie smirks, watching you lean in the doorway, his hand lifting the sweating bag of food and the clanging paper bag containing the essentials, aka wine and beer.

He watches as the gesture makes your eyes narrow, forgiveness etching across earlier annoyance as you put out your hand, offering to take something, anything.

“The store close to mine was out of your wine.”

Shutting the door, he finds you glancing over your shoulder, the television already set up. The usual array of candles and blankets across your living room—the ones which aren’t romantic, just mood setting (a thing you’ve highlighted to him many times). Not to him—he knows. But to others. Those who don’t understand that a friendship that’s spanned over ten years can remain as innocent as it seems—that movie nights were just movie nights. Even if the group chat joked otherwise.

“I’m serious,” he adds.

“So it’s not because you left yours at the time you were supposed to be here?”

Snorting, he follows you into the kitchen—the light flickers on, making him blink. Once again thwarted by the phone you made him upgrade to—the one which spills his secrets, like location and when he’s read your message.

Grabbing a plate, you hold it out to him. “That’s what I thought.”

“Y’gonna forgive me, or am I gonna have to surrender my movie privilege next time?”

You scrunch your nose—an act that shouldn’t make him smile, but does. His eyes scan up and down your face, a calmness spreading over him as soon as he is in the walls of your place—a feeling he always has when he’s with you.

His friend—his best friend.

A person who has been there through it all. Not batting an eyelid when he knocks on past midnight, red-eyes, dripping with rain because he lost his license, and he can’t sleep, and he’s so impossibly fucking tired. Not fazed when he slumps next to you, detailing the heartache of finding out he wasn’t going to be a father after all, handing him a bottle of beer—his favourite, the only kind you keep, all because of him.

You don’t make him pay. You never do.

Forever there, a rock—a comfort and a safety. It’s why he doesn’t fuck around with movie nights—doesn’t fuck around with anything to do with you. A silent promise, a rule: Frankie will always be there.

It didn’t matter if the person you dated hated him, didn’t matter if you pulled away because life became hard and you wanted to decline invites to the bar with the others. Frankie was there, the two of you giving and taking, always balanced, forever shared.

Movie nights reflected this. Last time was his choice, and tonight, it’s yours. A romantic comedy, with a twist—you’d said. He didn’t ask questions, just nestled under the blanket you dubbed his—green, worn, “like you, Morales”, you’d said when you’d pulled it out of the cupboard for him.

Taking his plate, you pop them on the coffee table. “You think you’d ever do it?”

“What? Friends with benefits?” He watches as you nod, getting comfortable again in your place. “Be better than whatever I’m doing now.”

“Which is?”

Smirking, he rolls his head on the back of your sofa. Hat gone, thrown on your armchair, fingers carding through his curls as he glances at you. “Nothin’. I’m not… I’m not dating—don’t really have the time. My schedule is just…”

“Fucked?”

Laughing, he nods.

“Can’t say I’m much better…”

Nudging you, you lift your chin, meeting his eye line again—something there, flickering. An array of words you’d usually share, but stick, cling somewhere in your throat as you offer him a comforting smile.

One he knows, well.

It’s your ‘doesn’t matter’ smile. The one you give when you’re single again, not willing to explain it—not until you’re two glasses into the bottle he’s brought to cheer you up—mumbling about not wanting him to say anything. As if saying something would be at the top of his agenda with some of them.

“It’s just that… I don’t wanna do that dating bit. You know, doing the how are you? What do you do, shit? Can’t exactly go out and just say I want to be bent in half and stuffed full—“

“Fuck me.”

“—but really, that’s all I want. Fun, with someone I don’t dislike, but won’t ask me to do romantic things that make me fall for them, only to be let down by them like I always am.”

Letting his head rest on your sofa, he sighs. “Yeah, same. Just want the stress relief.”

You agree by letting the softest yeah fall from your lips before you glance back at the movie. But he knows you’re not watching it. Eyes glazed over, brain ticking, turning. His finger poking you, the same way he always did—something he began doing back when he told you he’d enlisted, and you didn’t say anything except ‘you were happy for him’.

“Just thinking, I could… I could probably help you solve it, the stress relief. You know? That is—if you didn’t find me so repulsive.”

It’s instant, the way he feels his forehead scrunch and his eyes narrow. The sound of the movie fading to nothing—mind filling instead with your words, them rolling, and rolling, and rolling…

Frankie stares. Watching, finding you, if anything, looking like you weren’t even expecting a reply, never mind needing one.

“I don’t—I don’t find you repulsive.”

You smile, with an added snort, before layering on a shrug for added measure. The embodiment of unbothered, the painted picture of I don’t care.

He’d believe it too if you didn’t stand so quickly—mumbling about getting another drink. Asking if he wanted one. So quick to leave, to remove yourself from the situation, from being close to him.

It isn’t until he watches you stand that it hits him. The realisation going straight through him as he sees your shoulders slide down, the knowledge tearing, ripping—it feels worse than a bullet because:

You don’t believe him.

A part of you having convinced yourself before you’d even thought the words, never mind said them, that he could possibly think you weren’t attractive to him.

It forces him up from his seat, blanket discarded, pursuing you—the television covering the sound of his feet on your wooden flooring, the tap filling your glass doing the rest until he’s behind you. The glow of the street light through your kitchen window halos around you as you keep your back to him. Hand twitching at his side, a part of him unsure if he should keep standing here or if he should turn you.

Think, Frankie. Think.

Because for all the usually loud reasons he normally has told himself as to why he shouldn’t pursue you, it’s now surprisingly quiet in his head.

Even more so when you turn, the glass in your hand, eyes taking him in.

The rest is just instinct—not even thinking. His hands come either side of you, pressing into the counter, swallowing, watching as you place your glass down.

“I don’t find you repulsive,” he says, low, almost gruff. It comes from deep within—laced in other confessions, wrapped in words he hopes you can’t hear. “Not in the slightest.”

His eyes burning, searing the words in. Watching as you don’t break from him, lips ever so slightly parting, before he sees your gaze drop to his mouth, before flicking back up.

If someone asks, he’ll never be able to confirm who moved first. The two of you finding yourself in the middle, mouth slanted over yours, feeling your tongue behind his teeth as you pull him close, his arms caging you in. He can taste the berries, the sweetness that he hopes is just you and how it’s mixed with the sauce from the food—heat licking up his spine, need spreading through his stomach as he presses himself flush against you, leaving no room between him, you and the kitchen counter.

It’s intoxicating, dizzying, the feeling of dipping his toe into the pool he has always thought was off limits. Feeling you moan. Frankie basks in the sound, paints himself in it—hoping he can hear you sing his name, hoping he’ll hear it—capture it, keep how pretty, it is all to himself.

You moan when he grinds his hips into you. It vibrates down his throat, marking him, scratching its claws into him as he grips the back of your head—deepening the kiss. Drowning in it—in you. You’ve always made him breathless, so now he just hopes you pull him under, your hands clutching him closer, as though he’s your anchor—when in truth, he’s pretty sure that’s you for him.

“If we do this,” he says, dragging his lips down your neck, feeling one of your hands slide into his hair, “We need rules.”

Teeth grazing against your skin, the scent of your lingering perfume infecting his nose. A scent that usually clings to him, buries itself in his clothes—one he finds comfort in. Like he always finds comfort in you.

“Like, we can’t tell anyone.”

Snorting, you meet his lips—kissing him, tongue swiping across his bottom lip as he groans. Signing it, his proclamation.

“Deal,” you whisper. “I’m not staying over at your place. You can stay here, but I’m not… I won’t—“

He places his palm on your cheek, tilting your head, chaste, smaller kisses. A silent agreement.

Licking his lips, his heart thunders at the next. The one which is like acid in his stomach—one you could think is selfish, demanding. “You can date, but if we’re fucking, we’re fucking. I don’t share. So, if you want to do that with others, you tell me, and we stop this.”

“Okay.”

His other hand slid between the two of you, thankful—more than he can articulate and ever put into words—that you’re wearing sweats. His.

An old pair—one you’d borrowed when you’d spilt food on yourself and never returned.

Fuck, they always looked better on you.

Smirking, you turn your face, kissing his wrist. “But, you can’t buy me wine anymore. No flowers. No romance.”

Chewing his cheek, he mirrors your smirk. “You can’t cook me food.”

Sighing, you nod.

“So.”

Grinning, you loop a finger into his belt hook, pulling him close. His fingers toying with the knot on your sweats.

“So, you gonna put your mouth where your hand is?”

Raising his brows, you laugh—light, airy, fucking beautifully.

“Is that what you want, querida? Huh.” He says, voice dropping, hand cupping you through his sweats. “Cause I’m dying to see if you taste as good as I’ve imagined.”

“You’ve not imagined this.”

Lowering his lips to yours, he ghosts them over—your breath warm, teasing against his skin, the hairs above his lip. “Oh, I have.”

His fingers move, toying, teasing. Hearing you murmur a groan in the back of your throat as he imagines how wet you are. Whether there’s a patch on your underwear, whether you’ll coat his fingers when he finally touches you skin on skin.

“You need a ha—”

“Don’t worry, querida,” he whispers, the hand on the back of your head sliding around your neck, thumb under your chin, tilting your head up, “I’m good with my hands.”

He’s not sure if the moan you emit is at his words or the fact he undoes the little knot at your waist with one hand. But fuck does he swallow it—he feasts on it. It fills him like no food ever could as he manoeuvres his hand, fingertips brushing cotton before he slides his fingers against your warm skin.

“Last chance,” he offers, light touches, all feathery. Not quite touching, but close enough.

Swallowing, you shift your weight, ever so delicately handing him the words he desperately needs: I want you, Morales.

Morales, he thinks—fingers dipping into your wetness, slick covering his fingers, and it’s his turn to groan. More so when he drags his finger over your swollen clit, admiring how you arch into him, mouth desperate to find him, breath ghosting over him as he grins, all cocky, likely lit up by the moon and the street light.

“You’re the prettiest fucking thing,” he groans.

Pressing two of his fingers inside your heat, the hand on your jaw—finger under your chin—keeping your eyes up, lifted, perfectly on him so he can watch how your flashes flutter. Watch in the highest of definitions what he’s doing to you.

“Always have been,” he continues.

His focus is only on you, and all you’ll give him as he pumps his fingers in and out—the sound of how much you want this, want him, coating the air. So much so that he can practically taste it.

A part of him knows how close you are before you whisper it.

Imagining the way heat is pooling in your stomach, that your fingers must be aching from how you’re gripping the kitchen counter for leverage as he curls his fingers inside of you. And fuck, does he hate jeans—hates how tight they feel on his hard cock, how all he wants is to relieve some pressure, to grip the base in his hand and squeeze so he can marvel at how fucking gorgeous you are like this.

“Eyes on me,” he says, gruffer, laced in gravel—all low, like it’s coming from somewhere deep inside of him. It has, truthfully.

The moment he began seeing your lashes fluttering, he knew he didn’t want them to close.

Your whine, peppered with a moan emitting. “I’m so cl—close.”

Smirking, he licks his lips—dragging his tongue across his bottom lip. The one you want where his fingers currently are. Almost wishing you could speak so you could ask, beg, plead.

“I know, querida. I know. It’s why I want your eyes on me.”

Your body pauses. Halts.

Then he feels it, the beginning—the telltale sign. The incoming he wants to have a second sight for by the end of the night, as he marries his lips to yours, desperate, needy, to taste what it’s like when you call his name as you come.

Fuck you even sound pretty.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of him.

But dreams could never live up to him.

His hands on either side of your face, kissing you as you step out of your sweats, and underwear, that he’d yanked down your thighs when you’d caught your breath.

Fuck, he is good with his hands.

It’s the first thought you have since he caged you in the kitchen—all serious, something etched into his forehead that is now smooth, like it was never there. It’s also the first solid thought you’ve had since you returned to Earth from him making you come in the kitchen.

And you’re thankful that his fingers are on your cheeks, your body having turned into liquid—muscles having forgotten their role with your bones betraying you too. Your hand loosened on his wrist, the one you’d gripped to feel what it was he was doing to you, needing to be present with each thrust of his fingers.

Now, you’re leading him.

Body having taken over, while your brain is left still reeling.

Because fuck do you want this. You’ve imagined it, dreamt of it. Frankie, your best friend, the one who knows you better than you know yourself—clearly in more ways than you ever counted on for how quickly he undid you in the kitchen.

It’s why you turn, realising you know him too.

Stories coming to you, memories—ghostly snippets that had filled you with rage that now fuel you—as your hand grips him through his jeans. Quick, careful—well-versed—in the way you crash your mouth to his as his groan vibrates against your tongue. Your spine met the wall closest to your room, him thrusting into your hand, words falling, all laced in lust and dusted in desperation.

“Por favor, te deseo. Please, querida.”

You’re slow in the way you undo his jeans. The pop of the button is dramatic, a sign. Your mouth places kisses against his lips, his cheeks, jaw and neck.

Then, you’re unzipping his fly. The sound cutting through the pants, the heady breaths—the only other discernible sound is the movie the two of you have left playing.

“Wanna wrap my mouth around you, Morales.”

You can’t see him, but you can hear his throat swallow, likely imagining the way his eyes are staring at you, drinking you in, dragging them up and down your face like he was in the kitchen.

“Yeah, you wanna taste me?”

Nodding, you bite your lip, palm brushing over his covered cock—lashes fluttering at the feel of him. Because he’s thick, big—fucking hard. Something you should have known from the way his pants hugged him, the way it commanded a glance when he wore those lighter-wash jeans.

“You think you can take all of me down that pretty throat of yours, baby?”

Snorting, you flatten your palm against him—hearing him hiss, wishing there was light, wanting to see the expression on his face. “I’d give it a good go.”

Dragging his thumb over the curve of your breast, the fabric moving, applying additional friction before he’s lingering, drawing a circle over your nipple until it pebbles, just as you hear him smirk—adamant, somehow you can even see it.

“Later,” he adds. “Need to feel you come around my cock first.”

You couldn’t argue with him. Less so when more clothes fall, unveiling him. All soft muscles, defined when he flexes, the pair of you down to your underwear—a path of removed clothes detailing the route the two of you have taken.

Frankie kisses you hard.

Pulling you back to him, removing any other thought from your mind with ease. Not that you have the time to think about how you can’t believe this is happening, or the movie that’s still playing. Not when he’s leading you, walking you backwards, hand on your waist, thumb drawing circles, squares, triangles and everything else until the back of your legs meet your bed.

Then, you’re falling, landing on cool, cushioning fabric, bouncing ever so slightly as he wipes his hand across his bottom lip.

“Still can’t believe you ever thought you’d repulse me.”

Your skin warms, burns. A part of you wants to hide yourself, cover your stomach with your arm, hide your face in a pillow.

His fingers slide over the fabric at your waist, a whispered can I that you’re quick to nod at, until you’re bare in front of him. No hiding, illuminated by the moon and the stars outside, covered in milky-white light, hoping it’s forgiving on your curves.

“Querida, where are your—“

“I’m clean. Are y-you?”

He nods, direct, quick. Evident of a former soldier as his fingers slide under your chin. Mouth asking if you’re sure, he doesn’t mind. You just kiss his touch, bringing your hand around his wrist, sliding his fingers into your mouth.

I’m sure.

I’m so sure.

Then he’s crawling up you, his mouth slanting over yours. All tongue, all passion. His hand wraps around your head as the other guides the head of his cock through your slick, tilting your face up, opening your eyes to see him barely a breath away as he stares down at the two of you. Eyes pausing on the place where you’ll soon be conjoined.

“Look at me,” you say this time.

Watching his eyes drag back up to yours, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“Please fuck me, Frankie.”

He nods, wearing the most gentle, sweetest smile on his face. “I will, I promise. Anything for you, querida.”

All you can think is fuck.

Not getting a second to comprehend his words before he sinks in, every inch of him making you feel so full. Your head going limp in his head, arms tightening around his neck, gasping as he keeps going, and going until he’s buried in you to the hilt.

And you’re sure, could swear on it with confidence, you’ve never felt such fullness—filled to the brim, stuffed.

“So full,” you moan.

You swear he smiles, lit up by the light through your undrawn curtains.

“Thought about this,” he says as he pulls out and slams back in. “After Ben’s party, when you wore those jeans—in the summer when you wore those shorts. Fuck, baby, your legs—”

He says it as he runs a hand over the outside of your thigh, gripping the top as he punctuates it with a thrust.

“Always thought you were pretty, too fucking good for those people you dated—”

Your hips push back, meeting him. “—Frankie—”

“—too good for me, really.”

And you groan, whimper, moan. Letting a no fall out, an attempt at arguing with him for what he said.

But he kisses it away.

Desperate, more passion and teeth than before. A silent pleading for you to bury your words. A mixture of all three coming out at once, hitting the air, tainting it in something good that should feel sinful. Your hand slides down over his neck, shoulder and torso, clutching his waist as you mirror his movements, meeting him with everything you have, lips ghosting over his neck, tasting the salt and smelling the scent you know is just him.

A scent you hope digs into your skin, able to wear it long after this. An aroma that has always brought you comfort, even if it shouldn’t—even if the two of you are friends, nothing more.

And you’re close, beads of sweat on his brow, and if he isn’t the most handsome man you’ve ever had above you. One that you want to flip onto his back so you can admire him from above—sitting poised on his cock, bouncing on him until your eyes are blazed with stars and satisfaction.

The sounds of the two of you, all obscene, wet, as he grips the back of your thighs and somehow fucks you deeper. Each thrust punches a breath from your lungs, fingers clutching his shoulder, the other buried in the duvet.

“Takin’ me so well, baby. Can’t believe I’m fucking you.”

“Fucking me so good, Frankie. Fuck.”

“Better than your exes?”

You nod, words at a loss. All stolen, punched from you by his cock—because you feel so good, he makes you feel so good.

You swear you hear him say good, all low, voice dark, as you feel his hand sliding between you before he brushes his thumb over your clit. Circling, circling, circling—

Frankie knowing what you need, likely skimmed his fingers across your skin and read you like a map.

That, and the fact he must feel you squeezing him, tightening, vice-like around him as he begins to pound into you.

“I always fucking hated your exes.”

Your back arches, like he commanded it. It sparking, what he’d been driving you to, erupting, rippling out from your core across your body, as his name rips from your throat. The sound of your moan blending into the air, tingeing it, painting it with his groans as he continues to work you through it.

Ever-determined, focused.

Your hand slides down from his shoulder to his chest, to his waist, feeling his muscles flex under the skin.

It’s only as you begin to catch your breath, that you realise how close he is.

You smirk, devilish, all laced with cockiness as you beckon him down, knotting your fingers in his curls, dragging his head down, so your mouth is close to his ear. “Always hated your exes, too,” you say, punctuating the words. “Now be good and fill me up, Morales.”

CHAPTER TWO ->

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bsof-maarav · 11 days

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I just talked to one of the handful of friends I have left from my former community and found out that a specific former mutual friend, one who particularly prides herself on being a feminist, is straight up denying the hamas rapes, demanding "forensic evidence" and claiming it's all "Israeli propaganda."

I just have no more words left. I knew it was bad and I left behind what little social media I had in the first days after October 7th because I saw enough to know that I wasn't going to be able to be in this community anymore, I saw enough to know that I wasn't going to be hanging out with this crowd ever again. But I didn't stay long enough to watch every particular individual do and say the monstrous things that it turns out so many of them have been doing and saying.

I just left. And for a lot of them, I deliberately didn't look. I deliberately didn't look too closely at anything this woman was doing, for example--I thought it would hurt too much if it was bad. I thought it was better to just consider this part of my life over, to remember these people as they were to me before. I didn't want to know. I was leaving anyway.

Piecemeal, I saw some egregious things from some of my former friends. Glorifying self immolation...calling for the genocide of Jews...Holocaust inversion...claiming the hostages deserved it...denying that Jews are indigenous to anyplace on this earth...people who have utilized our words and symbols for their own liberation movements, wholesale denying the humanity of the people who made those words and symbols in the first place.

Every new piece of news I learn about who is dehumanizing us and with what rationale is just profoundly dispiriting.

No matter how many ways these people should be able to relate and make a human connection, they refuse to. Everything in their supposed values should enable them to hold the truth of what is happening to us. But it doesn't.

They're willing to treat Jews, especially Israeli Jews, in a way they would never accept for anyone else, in a way they would strenuously resist for anyone else--in fact, they strenuously resist much less serious things for anyone and everyone else! and that just breaks me. It means they never had the values that I thought we shared. It's all been a lie.

I froze things in time for some months, to some degree, accepting it was bad enough to be over, but not wanting to know the details. But with every new detail it's undeniable: there is no moral compass there. That world should have been a home for me and for years, I felt it was, but this hate was there the whole time. I never understood the conditions of my "belonging."

I can never forgive them. Not least because they'll never stop feeling righteous about their evil.

#jumblr #october 7 #antisemitism #anti-Israel judenhass #left antisemitism #terrorism #actual feminists don't stan hamas #me too UNless ur a Jew #and i've irrevocably lost respect for every Jew who stays in that world as a token and endangers us all

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mediocretosubpar-soup · 13 days

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inspired by this post by @whumpbby and @marudny-robot but posted on its own because of the zhanchengxian vibes that don't fit the original post and the length. this really got away from me.

may i butt in here with the alternative idea of lan wangji and jiang cheng working together to revive wei wuxian?

for this to work three things must be a given a) jin ling must be grown up ideally with a family of his own b) yunmeng jiang inheritance is rock solid, c) the circumstances of wei wuxian's death must be harrowing. (yet another unasked for self-sacrifice would put jiang cheng into the correct headspace, i think)

so, lan wangji and jiang cheng work together to revive wei wuxian and they find out that the best body given the absence of an original body would be jiang cheng's.

lan wangji finds out first. this puts him at an impasse. because he does want wei wuxian back and he swore he would get him back morality be damned. and yet wei wuxian loved jiang cheng, unconditionally, beyond sense and reason. he would hate lan wangji for doing that.

lan wangji decides to test jiang cheng. he leaves the scroll for him to find. if jiang cheng reads it and never mentions it again, lan wangji can still decide to force him into the ritual. if jiang cheng reads the scroll and decides to go along. well, it's his choice, isn't it?

of course, the next day jiang cheng slams the scroll onto their shared table and says, he found a solution. lan wangji is stumped, he didn't expect jiang cheng to choose this. not really. so large is his surprise that he blurts out, why? do you want to die?

jiang cheng looks at him for a long moment, then his mouth twists into a wry smile. "i was always supposed to die for wei wuxian." he doesn't elaborate. instead jiang cheng sets a plan into motion, first he says, we must make sure that the other sects don't go to war with you. only, yunmeng jiang and jin ling will know of lan wangji's involvement, jiang cheng decides, if they find out some other way, they will assume you tricked me somehow. they'll probably still hate you but they won't persecute you or wei wuxian. the other sects can't know because that would damage lan wangji's reputation and your reputation is what protects wei wuxian.

as for wei wuxian, he doesn't need to know about your involvement, jiang cheng reasons, he hates other people doing what he does so callously and you'll be a prime target for his anger. lan wangji still shell-shocked by jiang cheng going with the self-sacrifice just stares. jiang cheng misinterprets his stare and goes, even if he does find out he'll forgive you, he only ever sees the best in you.

jiang cheng writes a few very long letters to jin ling, to his heir, his disciples.

"you're not writing to wei wuxian?" lan wangji asks.

jiang cheng puts down his brush. "it's better if he hears it from you." he explains. "my words, wei wuxian will find a way to twist them. he respects you, believes in you, it's safer for you to tell him if we want to stop him." lan wangji understands. "he'll try to bring you back." of course, wei wuxian loved jiang cheng. the man himself rolls his eyes, "yeah, the bastard thinks he's still indebted to my father."

"wei ying doesn't mention your father often. yet he speaks of you once a day, often more than that."

jiang cheng snorts, can't be anything good.

on the contrary, lan wangji drank vinegar more often than not when wei wuxian spoke of yunmeng jiang and the jiang siblings. adoration in every word about that past life. the vitriol he spared for jiang cheng of today and even for him his voice took on a wistful quality. if jiang cheng offered, would you still stay in gusu? lan wangji wondered in the morning gloom when wei wuxian still slept next to him. his mind only settled when he remembered that jiang cheng held nothing but resentment for wei wuxian and would never offer or ask.

"you don't think he cares for you." lan wangji concludes.

jiang cheng sighs deeply. "he didn't have much of a choice, did he?" he turns back to his writing. lan wangji cuts in, "you know better than to think him so opportunistic." jiang cheng pulls his hand from where it's reached for the brush and redirects his attention to lan wangji. "it's not opportunistic for an orphan to choose safety. maybe he was fond of me back then but he was young and didn't know what the world had to offer." lan wangji isn't going to convince jiang cheng otherwise, unlike lan wangji, jiang cheng has no doubt who wei wuxian would choose.

"we have a problem." jiang cheng states because he doesn't believe in social conventions like greetings and disingenious niceties, a trait lan wangji begrudgingly approves of.

"wei wuxian will have access to his golden core once he's inside my body, he could fuck the whole thing up." yet another thing of jiang cheng's that lan wangji must bitterly approve of. jiang cheng, lan wangji has noted, never refers to the golden core as anything but wei wuxian's. lan wangji insinuated the same thing to wei wuxian only once and wei wuxian's face had gone dark. the next day, he went on an impromptu three months trip after which he acted like the words and their subsequent argument had never happened.

"are you listening?" jiang cheng's brow is furrowed. "listen, i know the plan was for you to find wei wuxian a few days later but if wei wuxian fights me, ...."

"back in the cave, wei wuxian always believed you would come for him." lan wangji says instead of anything reasonable such as i wonder if you're fully commited which would light a zealous fire in jiang cheng to prove him wrong. jiang cheng stares at him. "lan wangji, i've never beaten wei wuxian at anything. we can't fail."

he's not looking for reassurance. what could lan wangji offer him other than insincere (sounding) platitudes. jiang cheng is not a man who leaves things to chance, his planning is meticulous, he has considered the jianghu turning on wei wuxian, prepared enough money and identity passes to dongyin and beyond. he expects wei wuxian to resist maybe even to overcome him, lan wangji is supposed to be the ace up his sleeve.

something churns in lan wangji's insides, he nods his assent anyways.

wei wuxian fights, furiously, viciously. but jiang cheng is equally furious and far more vicious.

"didn't you say you wanted to live your life? that you wanted to see the world? what about all those talismans you were going to invent?" jiang cheng mocks the plans wei wuxian made, he must have been listening at every discussion conference at every night hunt. then even more cruelly. "what about the people you left? what do you think happened to your lan zhan?" it's perfect, wei wuxian falters, heart suddenly cleaved in two.

lan wangji has his fingers on the guqin's strings, he plays,

"--"

the summoning array goes dark, the body inside collapses. lan wangji shoots up and runs inside the cottage. the body is lying unmoving on the ground. lan wangji rushes towards it, he's killed them both, what was he thinking?

a fist meets his face, hard enough for bone to crunch and teeth to rattle. it's instinct more than will that responds to the attack, either man would have the right to kill him. he ceases his defense and allows the other man to throw him on the ground.

above him jiang cheng's face twists into a jovial grimace. "husband," wei wuxian says. "what have you done?" lan wangji sags in relief as wei wuxian carefully places jiang cheng's booted foot on lan wangji's sword hand.

there's a flaw in jiang cheng's plan that lan wangji never pointed out.

"we brought you back." lan wangji's never been able to lie to wei wuxian. the boot grinds down.

"we?" wei wuxian tilts his head. "who's this we you speak of, i wonder?" bones are ground into flesh. "you're here hole and hale."

and here's another flaw, lan wangji suspected but wasn't certain of until now. wei wuxian won't forgive him. which is fair, he's not sure he could forgive in wei wuxian's place. wei wuxian leans in.

"how did you do it?" if he presses down any harder lan wangji's hand will be ruined. "how did you convince jiang cheng to...." wei wuxian's voice breaks off.

"i put the notes on the table for him to see." lan wangji says. the next moment, wei wuxian's hands are around his neck. "some notes? as if that would have been enough?" his nails scratch at lan wangji's skin, no pressure on lan wangji's throat. lan wangji is glad for that, wei wuxian would be upset if killed him, he thinks. at the very least, he would be upset if he killed him quickly. lan wangj can't decide if fighting him or staying still would prevent that.

"did you tell him, i was better than him?" wei wuxian hisses as if he hasn't said that a thousand times. lan wangji doesn't think pointing it out would help. but wei wuxian's eyes take on a hysterical gleam. "and the fool believed it, didn't he? all your lies. of how he couldn't make anything out of himself without me, how he was only ever half as good as me? how everyone always preferred me?" wei wuxian jerks his hand back and brings it down in a swift strike.

the hand stops an inch from lan wangji's face. zidian sparks to life, whacks wei wuxian in the chest hard enough to knock him off lan wangji. the whip wraps around wei wuxian in tight coils. lan wangji sits up, avoids looking at his throbbing hand.

jiang cheng's face glares at him familarly. "lan wangji," its mouth spits. "how dare you mess this up? a wrong note? of all the things, i expected to go wrong, you weren't even in my cards." jiang cheng hangs his head. "trust a lan to screw me over." the body goes stiff. and then hisses, "you planned this together?"

jiang cheng laughs, "what did you expect us to just accept your magnanimous sacrifice? fuck you, wei wuxian. you fool. you idiot."

"and your plan was to kill yourself? great job, jiang cheng, very original."

"aren't you the one called a genius? how could we, the mediocre brained possibly come up with an alternative when your first solution to every minor inconvenience is falling on a sword?"

"minor inconvenience, we were trapped! we all would have died! you and lan zhan had better chances of getting out. it was obviously the best choice."

"you decided." wei wuxian and jiang cheng focus on lan wangji. "you never asked us what we thought."

wei wuxian glares at him. "i didn't need to. i could tell what you were thinking. between the two of you, the choice would have been jiang cheng. you because you love me. jiang cheng because he's still hung up on the golden core. i wasn't going to let that happen."

in lan wangji's head a youthful rage sprouts again, he can't open his mouth, he doesn't know what will come out.

"maybe so. but if only you were open to discussing anyone but you, who knows maybe the rescue parties would have found us before we got to a decision. too bad, we'll never know, wei wuxian because you went and tried to do everything on your own."

"that's a bit of a leap, no one even knew we had been on a nighthunt. there is never going to be any situation in which i'm going to let you die for me, jiang cheng. do you hear me? i don't care how you feel about it as long as you're alive to so."

"it still could have been me then." lan wangji interrupts their spat. one of them frowns at him like shufu frowns at imbecilic sect heirs. lan wangji thinks that must be jiang cheng.

"lan zhan, don't be ridiculous how is that any better? you think i wouldn't be devastated by your loss? where would i even go without you?" wei wuxian asks as if current events left any doubts.

"you could have brought me back. if you called, i would come." lan wangji states earnestly.

"unbelievable," mutters jiang cheng. as if he wouln't have helped wei wuxian steal the remains of the yin tiger seal, just like he followed them into the temple. and then the body keels over.

the ritual drained jiang cheng's spiritual reserves. it's only sleep. lan wangji drags them over to the comfortable cot to rest and hovers over them, whistling inquiry while feeding qi into jiang cheng's body.

a groan. lan wangji blinks, tilts and jerks up right. a dark eye slides open, blinks twice to focus.

"lan wangji, why the fuck haven't you taken care of your hand? what the fuck is wrong with you?" jiang cheng calls back zidian and drags himself from the bed.

"stay down." he snarls at lan wangji. he stumbles over to a cabinet from which he drags a medical kit. he comes back and begins pulling out supplies. "you didn't even cool it. can you bend."

"it's not broken." jiang cheng shoots him a dark glare. lan wangji refuses to cower under it. "no just bruised like.... what the hell was he thinking."

"i enabled you on a suicidal endeavour." lan wangji says. "i never expected another reaction." jiang cheng has a very narrow minded view of wei wuxian but even he isn't bold enough to deny that wei wuxian had been upset. "he would have gotten over it." which is a bold statement after hearing wei wuxian swearing that he'd do whatever it took to ensure jiang cheng's safety. jiang cheng peers closer at lan wangji's neck and huffs, "made a right mess." whether he's talking about lan wangji's neck or the entire day, lan wangji can't say.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #lan wangji #resurrecting wwx #i typed this in some ind of fugue state #might add more later #might not #not sure if it makes sense #too tired to reread to check #thoughts i like to rotate inside my head #zhanchengxian #possibly

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hero-israel · 4 months

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hi, fellow Jew here

what's antisemitic about the genocide claims? i've heard this a lot, and aside from being Horrific Misinformation, i don't... see why this is antisemitic? like it's bad and wrong but i don't know if it comes from Jew-hate if ykw i mean.

sorry, this could be a stupid question-

When it comes to Jewish institutions, all misinformation, false accusations, and conspiracy theories are inherently antisemitic. Charging Jews with "genocide" in these circumstances - when they are shooting back in a two-sided war, aimed at an armed group, taking steps to encourage and allow civilians to flee - requires a false accusation and a minimization / inversion of terms.

David Schraub:

"For thousands of years, for much of the world, part of the cultural patrimony enjoyed by all non-Jews—spiritual and secular, Church and Mosque, enlightenment and romantic, European and Middle Eastern—was the unquestionable right to stand superior over Jews. It was that right which the Holocaust took away, or at least called into question: the unthinking faith of knowing you were the more enlightened one, the spiritually purer one, the more rational one, the dispenser of morality rather than the object of it. To be sure, some people were better positioned to enjoy this right than others. And some people arrived onto the scene late in the game, only to discover that part of the bounty they were promised may no longer be on the table. Of course they’re aggrieved! The European immigrant who never owned a slave but was at least promised racial superiority is quite resentful when the wages of Whiteness stop being what they once were. Similarly, persons who lived far from the centers of Christian or Muslim power where Jewish subordination was forged are nonetheless well aware of what was supposed to be included in modernity’s gift basket. They recognize what they’ve “lost” as acutely as anyone else.

“The Germans,” the old saying goes, “will never forgive the Jews for Auschwitz.” And not just the Germans. Many people deeply resent the Jews for what Auschwitz took away from them—the easy knowledge that their vantage point was elevated over and superior to that of the Jews, the entitlement to be able to talk about Jews without having to listen to Jews. The desire to neuter the Holocaust is a desire to return to that old state of affairs. And so it shouldn’t surprise anyone that Jews exhibit a special ferocity over the meaning of “genocide.” As noted above, the controversy of this MBL language has in large part played out in terms of whether it is even proper for Jews to register an objection. Are we valid contributors to the conversation? Are we equal players in this struggle? This is no coincidence. When people charge the Jewish state with genocide, part of what they are doing—with varying degrees of explicitness—is telling Jews “this concept which obliged us to listen to you no longer can underwrite that duty.” And in that brave old world, they can return to the baseline that had existed for thousands of years—where it was unthinkable, outrageous, blasphemous, for a Jew to have the temerity to contest a non-Jewish articulation of Jewish experience."

#Genocide

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yuikomorii · 3 months

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i think i can forgive yui for anything even toxic simply because she suffered the most because of those guys and deserves to get her lick back. they put her through so much in earlier games, it's insane

// PARDON?? 😀😀

I understand that the Diaboys were bitchy at first and they all treated others as less (which is bad), but other than Laito, Kanato and Carla, nobody made Yui suffer that bad to the point of breaking her. Kou was pretty nasty too at first, but the rest weren’t that horrible route based for characters supposed to be monsters. At the very least, I can name some human LIs who were way worse than most Diaboys, yet nobody seems to hate on them for that. I understand that it must be tiring being pushed around and being treated as “prey”, yet we’re talking about vampires here. They are predators and don’t have the same set of morals as humans do, for this reason humans are a mere food source for them. They can’t live without blood, even if this means having to sacrifice humans to satisfy their hunger. We love cats despite the fact that they like torturing mice before killing them, and that’s because we understand that it’s just how the predator instinct works. The Diaboys might look humanized, but they are a whole difference existence and you shouldn’t hold them at human standards. It’s good that DL showed how vampires were truly supposed to act, instead of making them romantic and flirty from the start.

Even the whole Adam’s apple plan focuses on Eve, a human, making Adam, a vampire, learn about human feelings. One thing about the Diaboys is that they all had growth. If someone is shown regretting their behavior and is genuinely changing into a better person just for you, it’s very insensitive to remind them about what they did a long time ago. They are aware of their actions and they are aware they were in the wrong, therefore bringing up their past mistakes won’t make you a better person than them. A Diaboy could sacrifice everything for Yui and put his life on the verge each and every time she’s in danger, but some of you guys would still only see him as “bad”, which would be a huge insult to his character, given that it would erase all the development he went through.

I’m not going to count the bad endings here, but saying that you forgive all of Yui’s toxic actions is very toxic itself. She is an abuse apologist herself, who tried to convince Ayato that his mother secretly cared for him (despite knowing the full story), Subaru that Karlheinz loved him and the Mukamis that Karlheinz, after he committed a whole genocide, saved them to redeem himself. These are all very wrong. Karlheinz always used everyone for his plans, just like Cordelia used her children for her selfish desires. Neither of them were ever shown regretting their actions. This is just one example of Yui’s toxic actions and I’m not saying that she did them with ill will, but stupidity can make one problematic too. It gives off the same vibes as “but they’re your parents”, after hearing someone talk about how much their parents hurt them.

It’s not that hard to admit that all DL characters have red flags. Nobody in this franchise is meant to be a role model and it’s okay if you don’t like certain actions. I’m a Yui stan, but I get why several people from the otoge community don’t really like her. However, I’m surprised that they see her as really that bad. I mean, she still is mostly kind and sweet, therefore I don’t think her bitchy moments are more significant. Yet, I suppose this has more to do with how they perceive things.

#admin

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queen0fm0nsterz · 4 months

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Hey. I knew you're mad at Otto for hurting Noone and Noone deciding to join Nowhere, but have you ever considered hating the Ferryman for being the main reason why all of this started?

Like this man took away Otto's sister, Cici (Sisi? Cece?? or whatever the hell you spell her name as) away from him and making him obsess for answers, then later in Otto's life he met Noone and realize she is going through the same thing his sister did and became insane and thanks to that, Noone distrusts him and became an easy target for the Ferryman to take her away too and making Otto the bait to catch more children.

Blame can be on both sides. In this case, blame definitely is on both sides.

I understand your point of view, and you are right to say that the Ferryman was the one who started all this. But was it right of Otto to push Noone so far into the Nowhere that she "decided" that it'd be better to leave with the Ferryman than to stay with Otto? Who, mind you, deceived her multiple times, repeatedly breached her boundaries over and over again, used her and admitted that he was using her (when he said "I still need her" to the Ferryman taking Noone away) AND who did not show a single ounce of remorse for what he had done?

No. Of course it was not.

The Ferryman is the cause of the trauma. Otto's obsession with him is understandable, frighteningly human. So much so that I find myself disliking him because I have met people like Otto in my life. People who are nice on a surface level only to reveal later on that they capable of being manipulative and cruel, all under the pretense of past trauma causing them to act the way that they do. Trauma is not a justification for one to act like a piece of shit - an explanation, yes, but never a justifier. Which is exactly what Otto does.

You know who else in TSON has trauma and doesn't act like a dickhead? Noone. Noone, the victim in all of this, stuck between a kidnapper who will bring her to her doom and a man who is pushing her into the kidnapper's arms only to cry wolf when she calls him out on it.

I also find myself more upset with Otto rather than the Ferryman for another variety of reasons.

Firstly, I was not expecting anything from the Ferryman. We know how he operates, we know he's not a force of good; he's a liar and a kidnapper, literally a monster, taking children to their doom when they are at their most vulnerable. He was a bad omen from the very beginning and I never expected him to be anything more. Of course I hate him as a person and what he stands for, but considering where he started, I was not surprised to see him do what he did.

But Otto was different. Otto could have been different. He could have been an example of someone who manages to, if not overcoming, at least face their trauma with a positive outcome for both his own sake and Noone's. But no. He let himself go down a road so atrocious that he is now no different from the monsters we see in the Nowhere while not even being there.

Otto is a regular guy. He's not insane and he did not become insane. He, like everyone, has his own set of bad traits. He can be impatient, harsh, dismissive, insistent and immature. At the same time, he also has his good traits: he used to have a morale, kind, understanding, intelligent and friendly. All these things make up him as a person. As he said to Noone: once you are with someone long enough, you let out who you really are. And he did just that. He let his bad traits get the best of him. And as sorry as I feel for his circumstances, I really cannot bring myself to forgive him.

I suppose Otto let us down, like he let down Noone. And the Ferryman is the guy in the white van with its doors open, but Otto is the guy who threw Noone inside and watched it drive away.

He's a wonderfully written villain. My disliking of him as a person does not stop me from really enjoying his character! I do think he's the second best written LN antagonist.

#little nightmares #the sounds of nightmares #tson #tson meta #ln meta #otto #the counselor #the ferryman #noone #{if u wanted to know the first best written is the lady LMAOOOO #otto is between her and the pretender #thin man is just under them #and then all the rest #i think he is very well done tbh i love how otto it written}

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mdhwrites · 3 months

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Andrias vs. Collector: Who Was Redeemed Better?

Andrias hands down. Not only is it helped IMMENSELY by character consistency with him but it actually functions with what we know of him. Despite literally only ever getting half an episode dedicated to him (he doesn't actually get a lot more screentime than The Collector, especially while as a villain) we understand his motivations, the reasons for his cruelty, why Marcy made him cold and annoyed every time she was even mentioned post True Colors (he did not enjoy torturing Marcy. The literal only claim there is one line from True Colors where he blames her but otherwise, Marcy is fridged SPECIFICALLY to give someone for Andrias to show regret about) and then when shown how far he had fallen from the good man he was, he goes ahead and tries to fix that. First a final act of heroism but then not asking for forgiveness or the like. He is too guilty to need, or perhaps even want, such things and he instead can try to put things right on his own. In the end, we are left with the impression that Andrias WILL continue to tend to Amphibia now until the day he finally dies. It's actually done pretty well for the fact that it's given such little direct attention, especially by the time he's supposed to start being redeemed.

Meanwhile, the Collector's arc only works if you ignore large swaths of the show. His redemption mostly comes down to the idea that he needs to learn morality and that other people can be hurt by his actions but... He already did. In Watching and Dreaming, he yells at Belos controlled Raine specifically about how King will hate him for the nightmares, showing that he understands that his actions can upset people. In S2B, he talked about wanting to play with bones and criticized Belos for potentially murdering the Grimmwalkers, kind of opening up a moral conversation about the nature of Belos' treatment of them while showing his knowledge of death.

Even if we believe he didn't know these things and try to say he was manipulated, we can't. Belos' goal was extremely explicit and back when he was Philip, he had no reason to lie to the Collector. A spell to kill all witches in return for your freedom was the deal. That's pretty damn evil and the Collector could have always said no but instead he's EXCITED for them to be dead in Hollow Mind. All that matters to him then is his freedom, screw anyone else. Then when he is freed, he has neither the archivists or Belos to push him around and tell him what to do. As such: Why the fuck did he make the hunting stars? You know, the roaming stars that turn people automatically into puppets, rendering them to a fate worse than death as they are conscious and aware of what's going on, even as they are entirely incapable of doing anything about it. They are still around MONTHS later. Hexside literally keeps watch for them. If he is just a little guy, why the fuck did he make those in the first place and why are they still around?

None of this is ever addressed though. Instead, the show spends a quarter of its finale, and a decent chunk of the special before it, focusing on trying to redeem him and show him off as a good guy while not having him actually acknowledge the awful, terrible things he did. There's no taking of responsibility like with Andrias. There is no proper refusal of his morality or change in his thinking. Even his attempt to make peace with Belos is flawed because it's still the same all or nothing thinking that we've seen up until now for the Collector. "I do X, I get friend." It's not actually an acknowledgement that other people are complex and have their own free will, it's just a new form of trying to easily get what he wants. Then after her turns people back, which is good, he just leaves. He doesn't do anything to actually make up for what he did or allow him to face a world that he has irrevocably damaged. Instead, he abandons it all. All that responsibility and guilt can just be left behind instead of actually worked on. How is that a show of what he learned? Of him rejecting how he was before? Of him being REDEEMED?

It makes it much less an arc and more something we're told. At least when Andrias powers down to make Anne's final punch on him more effective, we have seen his regret. We have seen his motivations. We have seen as one is pushed into his face and the other torn down. Then we get to see him act on it, allow his conquest to fail, as a willful decision to back down from that evil rather than double down. Then we see follow through with him in the timeskip where he is still simply trying to make up for his sins, even if no one will ever tell him his work is done.

We don't get anything like that with the Collector and that's why he will always be easily worse to me.

======+++++======

Someone shared a Reddit post on this topic in my Discord and I almost posted 95% of this as a comment there. I... I know better than to do that on Reddit though so I decided to just let it be a blog over here.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical #toh #the owl house #amphibia #The Collector #king andrias

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littlefankingdom · 2 months

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Bruce throwing a batarang at his son's throat makes no sense

When you read a comics, you have to ask yourself "is this in character or does it only serve the plot?", because comics LOVE to disregard a character's personality or morals to make their plot work. If it's the second one, I like to throw it in the trash that isn't canon.

Well, the batarang accident in Under The Red Hood is one of them. Let me explain:

The front of a human throat is a very delicate area of our body. On the back, we have our bones to protect the shit in there (and it is still a fragile area. One hit well placed, and you're dead), but the front is full access to so much stuff. When killing someone in a single strike, one could choose to slice their throat. There's only 2cm between the skin's surface and the principal arteries, a small blade is enough. At least, you can hurt their vocal cords. At worse, you cut the link between the heart, the lungs and the brain (aka, they're dead).

Bruce does not kill, so him targetting the throat with a sharp object is already out of character. It's too risky, he could easily kill them. But to his own son??? That he grieved and who is back from the dead??? Completely crazy.

So why? Why writing Batman throwing a batarang at his son's throat? Here is my theory:

I am 99% sure that you are not supposed to pick a side in Under The Red Hood, that it was intended to be a story where there was no clear solution, neither Jason or Bruce are totally right and both have their own good reasons for their actions and decisions. It's another nail in the coffin to demonstrate that the Joker won that day he killed Jason. Whatever happens, he wins, because the Joker only wants one thing: to mentally break Batman. It's difficult to write a story with such a goal, to be able to make your readers side with both at the same time. You need to balance everyone's actions so noone is too much of a "bad" guy.

However, at this point, Jason has already attacked Tim 2 TIMES. And even if Jason has his reasons to do so, Tim is completely innocent and does not deserve it. He's just a teenager doing his best to help others. Jason has hurt Tim badly, a good guy, and they need to balance this out. And so, they decide to make Bruce throws a batarang at Jason's throat.

It didn't work as intended AT ALL, because a lot of y'all totally forgive Jason's brutal attacks on an innocent teenager, but will not forgive Bruce throwing a batarang to the throat of his son, even if he is a mass murderer and attempted to kill another of his protegees at this point (I'm just pointing out why it wasn't a predictable outcome for the writing team. This is literally a post about how I hate that they made Bruce threw a batarang at Jason's throat, don't come at me)

And in the animated movie adaptation, done years later, Bruce doesn't throw a batarang at Jason's throat, but at his hand holding the gun (this confrontation is so better in the movie. With Jason pointing his gun at the Joker, than at himself, showing that, inside, he doesn't want the Joker dead, he wants his father's attention, he wants him to show that he cares, because Bruce sucks at showing emotions and communation. And, when the building exploses, Bruce throws himself over Jason to protect him, probably the same way he wished he could have all those years ago. Good shit right there) Why make this change? Is it because a batarang to the throat that too gruesome for the format? Or is it because the Titans' Tower didn't happen in the animated universe (RIP Tim, forever in Queer Jail)? Or is it because they have seen how people reacted to the comics and didn't like it?

It's just a theory, but I'm pretty sure I'm right.

Shout out to the fanfic writers who say the batarang hit Jason's hand and ricocheted into his neck, making it an accident. That's possible, Bruce can fuck up a bit with the emotions and everything going on.

#batman #bruce wayne #red hood #jason todd #my “Bruce wouldn't do that” series #which is probably going to be in majority about interactions with Jason #in no way he is perfect but he has a strict code he wouldn't do that!#my ramblings #dc comics

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prodigal-explorer · 4 months

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I disagree with the idea that basil is unforgivable because the entire point of Omori is forgiveness and grief.

To say that basil is irredeemable is to go against the theme of the game

homie...

hate to break it to you but actually the point of the game being forgiveness and grief doesn't mean that every character should be forgiven. everybody has different standards and morals and values when it comes to forgiveness. some people are able to forgive basil and others aren't, but the people who are able to forgive aren't inherently better or more "right" than the people who cannot. to say that the message of omori is "you should always forgive people no matter what they do to you" is brain-dead.

just because sunny and basil smiled at each other doesn't mean that all that damage was reversed, or that true forgiveness even happened.

the point of omori is not forgiving others.

it's forgiving YOURSELF.

that's why aubrey, kel, and hero's explicit reactions to the truth weren't shown in the game. because it's not supposed to be canon that they forgave sunny and basil. and the lesson is NOT that kel, aubrey, and hero SHOULD forgive sunny and basil.

it's easy for sunny and basil to forgive each other because they both royally fucked up each other and their friends.

what's not easy is kel, hero, and aubrey forgiving them because unlike sunny and basil, they had ZERO CHOICE in the matter when it came to the presentation of mari's death. they spent four years living a lie.

hero blamed himself, believing that he was a horrible boyfriend who caused mari's death by not being there for her and he was extremely depressed for years, which caused him to lose motivation for his number one favorite thing to do:

cook. as a result of hero's depression, kel was pushed aside and ignored by his parents, becoming something like a glass child to them, which led to him viewing himself as less important or worthy of love/attention than hero.

and don't even get me started on aubrey. the whole town turned against her, and nobody cared about her. not even her friends. the only person in the world who truly understood her was mari, and seeing her hung was the worst possible thing to happen to aubrey, a mentally ill little girl who already believed she was bad for everyone who cared about her.

if basil had JUST TOLD THE TRUTH. all of his friends' lives would have been infinitely better.

and i don't mean to like rag on basil without addressing sunny, but i never see sunny stans acting this idiotic and "holier-than-thou". now since you're so up in my business, i will explain myself more.

the biggest unforgiveable thing isn't even basil hanging mari. it's basil blatantly lying, and staying silent for four years, pretending to be innocent, painting himself as some victim, when really, the whole time, he was the reason why everything crumbled and destroyed itself.

it would be fucking stupid to walk out of playing that game saying, "well, aubrey, kel, and hero need to forgive basil for what he did because forgiveness is important."

that's easy for BASIL LOVERS to say because BASIL WAS NOT THE VICTIM IN THE SITUATION. HE WAS THE PERPETRATOR.

and furthermore, the game emphasizes self-forgiveness way more than forgiving others.

things only started to get better for basil and sunny when they started to forgive themselves. sunny's hallucinations were a manifestation of his shame and guilt. and shame and guilt are a result of being unable to forgive yourself. what the other characters did to support sunny was helpful, but it didn't solve the root of the problem. the only thing that really made something go away, the only thing that really brought color back to sunny's world was him letting go of that shame and guilt and allowing himself to keep going forward.

THE ENTIRE POINT OF THE GAME IS THIS: you cannot control how others react/respond to your bad actions. you cannot expect forgiveness out of anyone, and sometimes, you SHOULDNT. but the one thing you can control when you fuck up is how you pick yourself up and dust yourself off. how YOU move on from what you did so that you can grow and become a better person in the future.

and to me, that is a way more relevant, impactful, and TRUE message than the stupid, idiotic, honestly super problematic idea that "we should forgive and forget when people hurt us because they feel guilty". that's not being a good person. that's being spineless and devoid of values. just because i personally have experiences, traumas, and values that make me unable to truly forgive basil doesn't make me a bad person or someone who failed to understand the game's message. so before you come up in my ask box and attempt to shame me and accuse me of not understanding the game, brush up on it yourself, buddy.

#omori #prodigal omori #omori game #omori spoilers #omocat #omori sunny #omori basil #omori aubrey #omori kel #omori hero #hero omori #kel omori #aubrey omori #sunny omori #basil omori #omori basil criticism #omori analysis

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whateven333 · 4 months

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What you prefer bonnie going dark with kai or kai being redeemed for bonnie?

I think, and forgive me, I feel like I’m always picking answers that are kind of in-between (I’m a “little” bit of an indecisive person lmao) but I like when they’re sort of a mix of both.

What I mean by that is like for Bonnie’s character, -I think she’s not as “good” as the show tries to convince us, and don’t get me wrong I think this is a positive because it makes for a more interesting/ complex character, -well it would have if the writers actually acknowledged it and did something with it, instead they kept her boxed away as some sort of “saint-like” figure (with none of the respect) but I think they did that in order to keep her away from any of the fun action in the show that the other leading ladies were allowed to be apart of, -like getting romantically/ sexually involved with villains, being careless/ misusing her powers for selfish reasons (like how the vamps in the show got to be reckless/ indulgent with their powers) without consequences, going to parties/ balls whatever and just being there to look pretty in a dress and have fun etc. and I think the writers liked to describe her like she’s “too good” as an excuse to leave her out of storylines that would allow more development for her character and to neglect writing for her character unless they needed to use her as a plot device.

But even though Bonnie is selfless etc, she’s still done plenty of morally questionable things in order to protect her friends (who are mostly killers) so the “too good” thing the writer’s tried to pin on her is pretty stupid and an obvious ploy to keep her away from being a part of more interesting storylines.

So because of that I think although Bonnie is kind of a mostly ‘good’ character, she’s also at least a little bit morally grey? As well as a little dark at times (considering her expression arc, -we know she’ll go to great extremes to do what she believes needs to be done).

Though with Kai I do think he brings out more of that darkness in her and that’s really fun (this concept has been explored in a lot of fantastic BK fanfics and I LOVE IT).

And with Kai, I think that he doesn’t need to be redeemed and actually I think this applies to other characters as well, -like should they even be redeemed ? Do we need to ? I think it’s perfectly fine for darker/ morally grey characters to exist without any sort of redemption arc. I’ve enjoyed redemption arcs before so I’m not against them or anything but I think on TVD it’s been done a lot (though I wouldn’t say they’ve done it well,- also TVD focussed on the ‘her lOvE redeemed him’ trope which I’m not really a fan of, I think it can be one of the reasons a character is redeemed but not the sole reason).

I liked that Post-merge Kai still seemed to have kept his pre-merge traits. I would have hated if they turned him into some sort of strangely good version of Luke, -even though some people insist that’s what he was post-merge and that’s why he was apologising to Bonnie, although that doesn’t make sense since the merge is not supposed to erase him- Kai’s meant to just be himself but with emotions now and Luke really did not have any serious connections to Bonnie to make him care that much about her.

One of the things I like about BK is the intense way they affected each other even when they didn’t want to be affected, even when they tried to act indifferent to the other it was obvious how they were still influenced by each other.

The type of redemption arcs that TVD focussed on had one person changing because of / for the other person. I think with BK they would change each other, both for the better and worse tbh, and that would be so delicious to watch -some of Bonnie’s good bleeding into Kai’s bad and vice versa.

And it would be an unwilling change for the both of them that they would probably try to fight tooth and nail, but regardless of what they want, their mutual obsession would inevitably lead them there.

So all that to say... I'd prefer them to mutually destroy each others perceptions of their own self-concepts and egos 💖

And I mean if that isn't ✨️True Romance✨️ then what is 💕

Thanks so much for the ask ! this was interesting to think about, I tried to answer this earlier but I couldn’t decide which I preferred and ended up kinda in the middle after all anyways… 😭

#bonkai #bonnie bennett #kai parker #ask

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mbti-notes · 3 months

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Anon wrote: Hi mbtinotes 22yo INFJ here. I recently lost a friend (INTJ) after dating her briefly. After breaking things off, there was a lot of hurt on both sides that we weren't able to reconcile. I ended up blocking her to move on, since then have unblocked but never reached out. This loss has been eating away at me every day since and I can't stop thinking about my mistakes or feeling like a failure. At the same time, I don't think maintaining a friendship was benefitting either of us.

There was a lot of drama over how I handled the breakup, and it was messy since we both still had feelings but she no longer trusted me. I also think we were in somewhat of a codependent relationship and my thoughts about her are obsessive. I constantly wonder what she's thinking and whether or not I can "fix" things despite the damage done. I've always had self esteem issues, social anxiety, and I believe have struggled with depression for a long time.

I know I have good qualities and my friends remind me all the time, but I just don't see myself that way, and I've always struggled with dating and this falling out with my friend has put me even deeper into my issues and made me more aware of them. I still care for her a lot, but I don't know if reconciliation is possible and am afraid of repeating the cycle, and she's villainized me at this point anyway. I honestly have no idea how I'm supposed to build myself up from here.

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

The best way to have healthy self-esteem is to be a person of integrity. It means making decisions primarily from the perspective of your better self, with a view of the bigger picture (Ni). It means doing whatever is necessary to preserve every person's well-being, including your own (Fe). It is never too late to choose integrity. The sooner you choose it, the sooner you can get to a more positive place in life. The path to integrity is a lifelong process of learning how to be the person you're really meant to be.

When it comes to failure, having integrity means owning up to mistakes and learning to do better. The way is: face facts, take full responsibility for everything that was in your hands, and resolve the situation to the best of your ability.

Resolve is not the same as fix. "Fixing" is usually motivated by an egocentric desire to assuage guilt, silence regret, or unload resentment. By contrast, "resolving" should be motivated by care and empathy and a genuine desire to do what is best for everyone involved. Negative feelings must be laid to rest and everyone must be allowed to move on in the most positive way possible. Resolution can be a difficult process and might require several steps, for example:

Contrition: For the sake of learning and personal growth, do a full accounting of all the things you have done that were hurtful, harmful, or morally problematic. Make a list and review the reasons why you engaged in such behavior. Feel your remorse fully, and make a choice to forgive yourself by accepting that you are human and still have much to learn about how to make moral decisions.

Atonement: Issue a detailed and heartfelt apology to everyone who was negatively affected by your behavior. Provide an honest explanation for why you behaved poorly, without making excuses or deflecting responsibility. Ask for forgiveness, recognizing that you are not entitled to it and do not have control over whether it is granted. In your own mind, forgive others their mistakes, for the sake of your own well-being, because you do not want to keep carrying around the heavy burden of a heart poisoned by resentment, anger, or hate.

Closure: Do a full accounting of all the things you appreciate about the person and the relationship you had together, and say thank you to them. Express that you hope the negative experiences won't erase all the positive experiences you've had together. Sincerely wish them the best going forward. Grant everyone the freedom to open a new chapter of life.

Blame is always counter-productive to relationships. Since the relationship is basically beyond repair, continuing to play any kind of blame game (whether blaming yourself or her) is only going to keep you stuck in negativity. It sounds like blame was a significant factor contributing to the breakup, so it's time you learned a better way of handling painful feelings via improving your emotional intelligence. You need to get back in touch with your caring and empathetic side in order to let go of blame and leave the past behind.

You've had many opportunities to end the situation but instead chose to continue it. At some point, you have to make a decision as to whether your energy is better utilized moving backward or moving forward - you can't have it both ways. When you choose to move forward, feelings will fade as time passes, and you'll get better perspective from which to learn important lessons, lessons that will hopefully better equip you for success in future relationships.

Remember that the process of grieving a loss and healing from it cannot begin in earnest until you release yourself from the compulsion to fix and, instead, move toward full acceptance of reality.

#infj #infj relationships #breakup #integrity #acceptance #closure #apology #forgiveness #regret #ask

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darkstarofchaos · 4 months

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For the character ask game, I'm not sure how many numbers you're willing to do for a single ask, so you can just do as much as you want from this. For Prowl - 2, 3, 7, 8, 12, 15, 16, 23, 25

I don't mind a bunch of numbers! Gives me an excuse to ramble, lol. And to rant, because Prowl deserves better.

2: Favorite canon thing about this character?

His willingness to look Optimus in the face and tell him he's being stupid, and to do his own thing to mitigate the stupidity if he has to. Mostly applicable to IDW, but Optimus needs a foil so badly in G1 that I've pretty much transplanted it into G1 Prowl when I write him. Not in its entirety, because G1 Prowl isn't IDW Prowl, but I like that he has his own opinions on tactics and morality and doesn't just go with the Autobot collective. His job is not to be a yes-mech; it's to keep people alive and win battles. If his commander is making stupid decisions, what benefit is there in standing back and letting it happen?

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Making the police car an actual cop was the most boring decision anyone could have made. In stories where the Cybertronians choose their alts, especially, there are so many more interesting things you could say about his character by giving him a pre-war job that's completely unrelated to his Earth alt. For example, I like to think he chose it for tactical reasons: it's a common black and white vehicle, thus perfect as a disguise, and the sirens let him "legally" break Earth traffic laws in an emergency. It's far more interesting if his alt is a result of strategy and reasoning instead of, "I guess I'll take the one that matches my old job description."

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

I like that people took the little tidbit about Prowl having trouble with the unexpected that has exclusively appeared in two bios (that I'm aware of) and made it reasonably common. Would be really nice if they treated it seriously instead of making it comic relief, but maybe it does get treated more seriously these days. I don't read a lot of Prowl fic.

Let's talk about why.

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

The image compilations of Prowl getting punched. The prick jokes that litter every TF Wiki page for every G1-based Prowl. The fanfics where Prowl is an uncompromising jerk or straight-up hate sink because the author needed a mean Autobot. The conversations and hypotheticals that make Prowl the source of any amoral action the Autobots take. The people who distill him down into Essence of Asshole and strip out every positive or sympathetic quality he has.

"Prowl gets villainized for being sensible" is one of my most hated fanfic tropes. Grab just about any fic where a Decepticon defects or earns the Autobots' sympathy in some way, and Prowl will be the only one who's unhappy with the situation. Which is perfectly reasonable because that is an enemy and he has no reason to trust them, let alone like them. But because we're supposed to sympathize with the Decepticon, that makes Prowl the villain. The other Autobots aren't naive and unreasonably forgiving, Prowl is just a bad person.

And it's not just IDW fics. G1 Prowl didn't get a whole lot of screen time, and thus no chance to develop his own personality, so he gets slapped with the same portrayal. Never mind the fact that when he does show up, he's one of the nicest characters - sure, he gets in on trash talking the Decepticons (though far less than some of the Autobots), but he's always helping out around base, shows concern for others, and pretty much stays out of interpersonal conflict. And yet, in stories based on a cartoon that has Powerglide, Gears, Cliffjumper, and Optimus Prime himself, I am expected to believe Prowl is the Autobots' resident jerk. Not gonna happen.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

As I mentioned earlier, it's kind of quasi-canon that Prowl has trouble dealing with the unexpected. It's never appeared in any actual media, but it does come from official sources, so I wouldn't call it a headcanon. But I do headcanon that he has some pretty severe anxiety in dealing with people because of it. Things like math and physics are reliable; if something doesn't do what you expect it to, it's because you lacked information, and you can remedy that. You can update your calculations based on the results you actually got, or try to find out what you were missing the first time. Given enough data, you can predict just about anything as long as the results are consistent.

People are not consistent. You can make some sweeping generalizations about them based on categories - social groups, behaviors, readily obvious personality traits - but you can never say with certainty that someone will react in a specific way to something. Once you've known them for a while, you start to understand them and can anticipate them with a reasonable degree of accuracy, but that's assuming their behavior is genuine and consistent. If they're messing with you or pretending to be something they aren't, your data is inaccurate, and you can't correct it unless you know it's inaccurate.

People are the only things in the natural world that can deliberately give you false data about what to expect from them. So yes, I think Prowl has social anxiety. And probably some form of people-centric agoraphobia or anthropophobia.

(I also headcanon him as biromantic asexual. It has nothing to do with the above, and actually predates the anxiety headcanon).

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

If I had to pick just one pairing, I guess I would say Jazz/Prowl. Which is ironic, because for a long time, it was one of my least favorite Prowl pairings. Not because it was particularly objectionable; it was just everywhere, and I couldn't see it working. I think of Prowl as the kind of person who needs a steady, reliable partner who will let him have his routines and respect his desire to plan things before doing them, and Jazz's thing is more spontaneity and flexibility. He seemed like one of the worst partners for Prowl, especially with how I developed Prowl's disorders over the years.

In the end, though, that spontaneity is what brought them full circle to a pairing I can support. Because I do think Jazz would be willing to compromise and accommodate for Prowl's needs, and that Prowl could eventually trust that he's not going to suddenly change how he acts around him. It's a rather tenuous case of opposites attract, and requires patience from both parties, but I can see it working now.

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

First, an honorable mention goes to my immediate impulse, which was Constructicons/Prowl. I get why people want IDW Prowl to have someone on his side, and I don't think the Constructicons meant any harm. But Prowl was forced into the team through a series of traumatic events, the Constructicons like him for things he hates about himself, and being a part of Devastator seems to have contributed to his psychological decline. It wasn't a good or healthy situation for him, and I feel like the Constructicons having romantic feelings for him actually makes it more uncomfortable for me.

That being said, I'm going to have to go with Optimus/Prowl as my absolute least favorite ship. Optimus is very strongly motivated by morality and will generally take what he perceives to be the most moral action in a given situation. Pair that with someone like Prowl, who is willing to cross lines when he feels he has to, and you already have a relationship on rough ground. The only way things can work between them is either for Optimus to accept Prowl's "moral failings", or for Prowl to change a fundamental part of himself. There is literally no option that doesn't require one of them to compromise their principles or change who they are. And since Optimus isn't the kind of person who will do that, the only hope for a relationship is to "fix" Prowl. And that gets into abusive territory, because Optimus has power over Prowl in both the physical sense and in their professional relationship. He also has social power, because because Prowl is unpopular and Optimus is exactly the kind of person you wouldn't expect to be capable of abuse.

And yes. For the sake of argument, it could be toxic from Prowl's side too. He could try to hurt Optimus by throwing his mistakes in his face, or by blaming him for everything that goes wrong. But Optimus has a great deal of confidence in himself and the support of pretty much everyone, while Prowl is isolated and already isn't proud of things he's done. He is far more vulnerable to abuse than Optimus is, socially and psychologically, and he just doesn't deserve that.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

Mmm. I guess I would have to say this one, since it inspired an entire story that I'm still working on. There's actually another one that I like better (which also spawned an in-progress story), but I'd have to do more digging to find the link for that one. Might do it later.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

When I started watching G1, the Autobots were just a conglomerate of near-identical personalities to me. Prowl was just one of the generic background bots who got a few minutes of screentime in one episode and was otherwise relegated to a support role. I was mildly interested by some of the fanfic portrayals I saw, but I definitely preferred the Decepticons, so I didn't read much where he was a main character unless there were Decepticon MCs too. And most of those fics were written by a couple authors whose endings were consistently disappointing, so after I stopped reading their stuff, Prowl just dropped off my radar.

Nowadays, Prowl is my favorite Autobot (well, second favorite after Skyfire). Thanks to IDW, I kind of see him as the Autobot version of Starscream (narratively if not in personality), but he's also a fascinating character in his own right. I love that he doesn't conform to the Autobots as a whole, he's fun to write and analyze, and he was the one good thing I got out of the IDW comics. 10/10 character, deserves better.

#transformers #Prowl #unpopular opinions

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