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#idk! its not a Wrong interpretation or anything but it just rubs me the wrong way
lesbianutena · 1 year
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seeing people go on about how naive and foolish and blind and stupid utena is and i’m just sitting here like. she’s 14! i disagree strongly with the idea that utena is willfully or maliciously ignorant. like yes, while i think she does often fail to fully comprehend whats happening (especially in the last arc) she’s also finding herself in increasingly horrifying and new situations with no point of reference for how abnormal it all is?? she is doing her very best to make sense of things as a 14 year old child who has no parental figures or guardians, no friends who aren’t also somehow in on the manipulation happening to her, nowhere to go outside of ohtori. and that is on top of trying to navigate her experiences and identity as a queer and gnc person!!!! i feel like folks are wildly overestimating the comprehension the average closeted teenage lesbian has of systematic heteropatriarchiarcal cycles of abuse! she’s literally 14!!! save the scorn for the willfully ignorant for akio
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when ppl who like the huntlow ship post about “all the crumbs” in the show which include cutesy scenes but are mostly just screenshots where theyre in the same frame but most of the time gus is also in the frame and interacting with either hunter or willow more than theyre interacting with each other so ppl just poorly crop gus out of the screenshot
#toh#the owl house#huntlow#hunter toh#willow park#gus porter#when ppl do this with any characters i either find it really annoying or really funny#i like the huntlow ship the way i like most of my ships#where they go through half a decade of angsty pining on either side but at different times#and hunter realizes he still has to recover from ptsd and willow realizes she still has to get better self esteem#so being in a relationship before they do that would be a huge mess that will destroy their friendship which they care way more about#idc if theyre endgame in canon but they gotta address hunters issues with authority figures and give willow a reason to be into him first#and the way most of the fandom portrays it makes me feel iffy bc it reduces both of them down to either#angsty white boy ya love interest number 82374023840238 and his arm candy#or rough and aggressive Strong Female Character and her woobie simp who needs his girlfriend to protect him from anything that moves#not to mention how im uncomfortable with how people see hunter a victim of child abuse respect willow for her strength#and say willow wouldnt be scared of him because she could defend herself from him#and interpret that as 'hunter wants yet another authority figure in his life to physically abuse him but now hes into it bc its willow <3'#idk maybe i just have a Very Specific Way of shipping the huntlow ship and anything too sweet or out of character just rubs me the wrong wa#but anyway because i like the huntlow ship but no not like that#this is one of the rare occasions where i find it both incredibly annoying and incredibly funny at the same time#oh and dont think i dont see you guys disregarding the arguably closer relationship gus has with both willow and hunter#yeah yeah the actual scenes where hunter has a crush on willow are cute#but we all know if either of them were dark skinned or if they were both girls or even dark skinned boys#you guys would not go this crazy over the ship#shut up pandora#lowhunt
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nerves-nebula · 1 year
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I sometimes get uncomfortable around arguments about if certain characters are abusive or not- obviously I see this the most with 2012 tmnt and nobody really needs my opinion but I keep thinking about it so here’s some words to chew on.
Keep in mind I haven’t seen much of 2012 so I’ll mostly be talking about the WAY I see these discussions being had here, rather than the show itself.
I doubt the creators intended for the turtles to be abusive and I kind of just assume that everything they do is within the genre of slapstick kids show. But I also don’t think people who cringe away from the way they treat each other are reading too much into it.
I’ve seen people argue that ppl who think the brothers are abusive just don’t have siblings and that’s an insane take to me. Obviously its probably hyperbole in some instances but as someone with more siblings than most of the people I know, I 100% see the abuse reading of this series. It’s a very obvious idea to latch onto for me as someone who HAS been abused by my siblings- and who’s probably been abusive too.
The main thing that really gets under my skin is when people point out how much the turtles actually care about each other as evidence against abuse. Cause that doesn’t make any sense ??? you can abuse people you love and care about deeply.
And it really rubs me the wrong way when I see a post that’s like Raph can’t be abusive because he does X nice/cute things with Mikey or something like. That’s not how abuse works. You guys have to know that right?? Abuse isn’t just a person being mean 24/7 without pause.
A bit of a tangent coming up, but growing up, I really hated Mabel from gravity falls. not because she is inherently any more annoying or selfish or anything than other characters but because the way she treated dipper was extremely triggering for me as a child with a lot of anxiety. Like if Mabel was real and my sibling, I would’ve considered a lot of the shit she did abusive. Obviously I’m normal about her now cause I’m not 12 anymore but the biggest hurdle about watching that show when I was younger was that I would sometimes be brought to tears of frustration, imagining how scared and distressed I’d be if Mabel did that shit to me.
THE POINT of this tangent is that saying “the 2012 turtles aren’t abusive because I do that stuff with my siblings all the time/cause teenage boys are just like that” isn’t a genuine critique because abuse isn’t just about the action it’s about the relationship. Punching your sibling who’s actually ok with being punched isn’t abuse. Punching your sibling who really doesn’t want you to, and who you KNOW really doesn’t want you to, and who you KNOW would be genuinely upset by being punched? That is abuse.
And I find it annoying because I think we’re all aware that abuse was likely not the intent of the show. (Probably not even the text of the show but once again can’t say for sure) Maybe some dysfunction for drama, but probably not abuse, so you’re really just arguing against someone’s headcanon/personal interpretation of this show. And it’s like.. ok you have a different reading cool I guess.
In the show they aren’t treated as abusive, but fandoms are built around exploring different aspects of art that weren’t explored in canon. So I guess idk why this is a big deal.
Idk I think people have this idea that abusive = evil and always wrong. But abuse is just someone hurting you repeatedly and refusing to stop for whatever reason.
And with a show like 2012 where it’s all played for laughs it can be hard to tell if that’s how they are with each other because they’re ok with it or if that’s how they are cause they don’t know any other way. The turtles are kind of really mean in 2012, and wether that’s a familiarity kind of meanness or not is up to you in fandom, yknow?
Does Mikey actually consider Raph hitting him as like a fun part if their banter or is he coping with jokes about being physically abused? You decide! Like genuinely it can be either and I think that’s fun!
I mean obviously you all know what i’d pick, but that’s because I’m blissfully aware of what I want out of stories and what i want is nuanced discussions of abuse.
Personally, I acted very similarly to the 2012 turtles when living with my siblings, but I didn’t actually fucking like it. It was a defense mechanism because being genuine would only be met with ridicule. So I’m not inclined to agree that it’s fine because it’s just what they do.
Once again though, I doubt it was on purpose. And if you don’t think that they’re abusive then congrats! The show probably doesn’t either! So I just don’t see why people get super upset about it. Don’t you love that someone got a different story out of the same media??
Anyway obviously it doesn’t super matter and I don’t really have a horse in this race. I just got a bit annoyed with the way abuse is discussed and as a hobbyist Abuse Analyst I thought I’d weigh in.
I wrote this instead of going to sleep and it’s sooo late and also so much longer that I meant for it to be… y’all better not have bad takes in response or I’ll be annoyed as hell tomorrow morning, guh.
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gffa · 1 year
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Okay I have a maybe dumb question you might have answered before but I've seen a few posts around that rub me the wrong way about how Anakin would be arrested/punished for his murder of the Tuskens and I'm really not sure how that would work? Kicked out of the Order maybe but he was on Tatooine outside of Republic jurisdiction killing a group of people already very much ostracized and othered (as shown in other media like the BoBF where people shot them out train windows or something, I don't remember exactly). So I'm not sure who would press charges or anything like that anyway??
And like I am by no means defending his crimes, like at all, but I just don't see how he would be punished for that through the Republics judiciary system? And the context of the movies and shows don't really imply that he would be arrested or anything either unless I'm missing something (which is so very possible). I always felt its more intended as a horrendously, cruel and vengeful action that serves as a way to convey Anakin’s inevitable decent/turning to the dark side. Not something to be interpreted as a secret, covered up crime he would be punished for. But Idk. So sorry if this is confusing!
Hi! There really is no clear answer to this because you're right, I don't think it would be able to be punished through the Republic's judiciary system, because Tatooine was not part of the Republic. And we don't really know what kind of extradition laws the Republic would have with an organization like the Hutts, how much they would abide by those things. Further, the Jedi kept their dealings in house, because they were the ones who could really judge how much the Force would have been an influence, like that was a huge point of The Wrong Jedi arc, that the Jedi were desperately trying to keep Ahsoka, but the Republic came down hard with an iron fist, because that's what Palpatine was maneuvering them towards. There's no answer here because it begs the question--do the Hutts know and would sue for extradition? Do the Hutts even care in the first place? Do the Hutts even have a case if this is a Tusken matter? I don't think the other Tusken tribes would care to sue for extradition, so they'd just let it go. And how much is Palpatine sticking his fingers into this mess, because he wants to break Anakin? I don't think the Jedi would kick Anakin out, that's not really what they want, they want to keep Jedi in the Order, that's why Palpatine had to twist their arms so hard with Ahsoka, until it was that or break the entire Order and Ahsoka would have been accused of not getting a fair trial if they'd forced the issue. In supplementary material, their reactions to someone falling to the dark/doing something terrible is that they want to bring them back to the light, they don't want to punish them, they want to help them. The only time they'd expel someone is if they were putting people's lives at risk because of the choices they made and it wasn't a situation where they could reasonably intervene, just dangerous choices being made. Like Prosset Dibs tries to kill Mace and he just says it's our duty to help him back to the light and, in the meantime, he's on library duty. And, ultimately, all of that isn't really important because it's not the story being told, it's an act of cruelty that had Anakin losing control of himself, giving in to the rage (which makes it easier to give in again next time) and doubling down on how he refuses to accept that sometimes people die and we can't always stop it, no matter how hard we try. It's a super interesting avenue to explore in fic and meta and I've seen it done in really cool ways a few times, but there's no hard answer in canon as to what would have happened, because that wasn't the purpose of including the scene. Usually, that avenue being explored is about character exploration, because the political framework is too vague to really have a concise answer.
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gregoftom · 11 months
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i don't really know how to explain myself properly but i feel like some people are really concerned about Getting A Good Grade In Succession to the point where they've adopted a very cynical view of tg's relationship because being too earnest about them is ~not the point of the show~ or w/e. which is funny because every other relationship in the show is allowed to be nuanced but not theirs i guess? so you have people going "oh their relationship was only ever about them using each other from the start" when that's demonstrably not true and like. i have really mixed feelings about this season so far and i feel like anything could happen with them by virtue of weird writing choices and i hope with all my heart this doesn't end up being the case but even if the finale tries to diminish the depth of their relationship i don't understand the point of Us acting like there was never anything deeper there? but anyway, all this too say that i agree w/ you that the way people are very cynical and dismissive abt tg specifically has rubbed me the wrong way and thank u for your service ❤️
hiii sweet anon!
A GOOD GRADE IN SUCCESSION ASHAKJSA god honestly, i hear you.
i'm getting real tired of this "point of the show" shit bc it's like. just because tg isn't "the point", isn't a main focal plot [which it is, or at least is part of it], isn't integral to character development [which it is too; without tom greg would not be where he is now which is at a point where he actually could be seriously considered as a fucking CEO, without greg tom wouldn't have learned any self respect or self worth/we would never have been able to see him express himself beyond servitude towards shiv], it doesn't mean it can't be explored and considered as a serious part of the show?
media is created for us to enjoy. yes it's there to interpret and discuss but it doesn't always have to be that way? literally you can watch the show just for tomgreg and that is A OKAY. why? because you don't have to justify why you like something! surprise! and yeah i've noticed that too - other relationships get to be seen as nuanced, but not tg i guess. idk why, seeing as its dynamic is something to be studied under a microscope and fun to not only shippers but normies too lmao. clearly there is something more interesting to it than just, oh it's mutual corporate climbing.
exactly! there's even more contexts provided by the scripts, THE SACRED TEXTS lol that provide us with more knowledge and insight into the feelings of these characters, that show us that their relationship goes beyond using each other. there is an element of that of course, but that's not all they are. why reduce them to that when so very clearly on paper we are affirmed of what we thought we could read textually on the screen? it just baffles me.
i'm hoping too anon, like A Lot. from the looks of the trailer i have a. i have a little bit of hope. even if say, tom has to choose between greg and shiv, if he chooses shiv and has visible trouble with it, like it takes him time, it plagues him, it takes effort, it feels like a real decision affecting his life, like. that counts for something you know? that would, to me, not diminish his relationship with greg. obviously it would be heartbreaking after how loyal greg has been to tom, but the very fact that it would be difficult to tom would mean that greg is important to him in some fashion, and the show would be at least acknowledging it by doing that. like, it's that easy. i ain't asking for much. i know what i'd like, but what i would be satisfied/settle with, well i think the bar is reasonable, you know?
i'm glad you understand me! i mean, who knows maybe some of it is people trying to go on the defensive like, "it's the hope that kills you" so they are trying not to have any by lessening it, saying oh there was nothing there, there was no romance, nothing positive, it was all for mutual professional gain and that's it. but like, personally that doesn't work for me. i think you should at least acknowledge its importance otherwise we're regressing right back to the oh it's a mlm ship? never mind then. i'm not about that, i guess.
thanks for the message buddy god speed <3
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burialbird · 1 year
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need to post on here more to not risk tumblr banishing me to the shadows ermm so here's this!!
i actually have a lot of reasoning behind a lot of these ships and why i prefer/dont prefer them etc. that'll be under the read more tab if u care!! im definitely looking into it too deep but thats the over-analyzing autistic in me, beware of rambling!
ok so first tackling the ships with the disassembly drones x worker drones. mainly because i do not wish to be harassed by unzi shippers who are pissed i dont like their ship i personally see the disassembly drones as being in their 20s, given they were at the mansion for a couple of years most likely and then sent to copper-9 for ~20 years ongoing.
i see all three as being 23-25!! J being the oldest and either V or N being the youngest, leaning V but idk havent made up my mind on my interpretation
i see the worker drones in school (uzi, thad, doll, lizzy, rebecca, etc.) as being 16-20, not counting only the cast listed. i see uzi as being 16-17 (no. not because shes short, she just gives off that impression to me given she calls herself a teen pretty clearly), thad and lizzy as being 17-19, doll as being 18, and rebecca as being 19.
because of this age gap between the drones, i personally do not feel comfortable shipping HEAVILY implied older adults (aka. not 18-21 year olds) with drones that are 6-8 years younger than them. now, for why i hate unzi in comparison to simply disliking nthad and vizzy, its because i tend to hate popular ships if they rub me the wrong way like unzi does. i see n and uzi as platonic (best) friends
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now for the ships between disassembly drones, i headcanon n as being aroace!! partially stolen from someone on tiktok who headcanons n as forcing himself to love v because he convinced himself he needs a crush.
im not apposed to envy (NxV) though!! given its implied it may become canon, im open to it, and if their dynamic was healthier, i'd like it more probably. im pretty against NxJ though because... obvious reasons. would be a terrible relationship, and another reason,
i headcanon J as sapphic (wlw)!! i also think J and V would have a cute dynamic, which is why they're an OTP. i also think it'd be funny if they kissed and N went "oh shit how did i not know my co-workers were gay???" even though he'd be heartbroken, poor lil guy
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worker drone ships!! i've liked dizzy (dollxlizzy) since the pilot and its grown on me more since then too seeing more of their dynamic, so obvious otp. i hate lizzyxthad because i headcanon them as being siblings. im neutral to uzixdoll because although while it would be a POTENTIALLY interesting ship, if it turns out uzi and doll are related, that would be erm.. REALLY WEIRD. so currently i am indifferent to it
i like the idea of uzixlizzy because i think popular kid x social outcast is a fun dynamic!! not my fav tho lolz., i also like uzixthad not only because its likely to become canon, but also because they've had cute interactions and would probably be a healthy relationship ^_^
and thennn im neutral/like a little lizzyxrebecca, they havent had many interactions so thats why im neutral to it.
again based off interactions, i like how khan and uzi's teacher interacted, their banter was funny in episode 2, more of a crackship than anything for me though!! and norixkhan is neutral because despite it being canon, im indifferent since we havent seen their relationship
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ramble over RAAGH!! feel free 2 share ur shipping opinions to this post, ill read it, i prefer if unzi shippers stay away though because i do Not like the ship, and ive run into a LOT of strange unzi shippers. ty!!
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arachnaspi · 8 months
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This is a rant about a Good Omens post that came across my FYP and it's kinda long so if you don't have the patience/mindset, scroll past :)
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Ok but like I can't be the only person who thought when Nina confronted Crowley about his feeling for Aziraphale that Crowley's little "oh" moment was bc he found out other people could see his feelings for Aziraphale, not bc he realized he had feelings for Aziraphale.
Idk, I just saw a post abt how someone was saying (I'm paraphrasing this) "with Crowley's character it's so wrong that he's only realizing now he's in love" and it made me go :T because
1. I didn't interpret that scene that way (and I'll say it, I might be wrong and maybe I missed something that the poster didn't)
2. Based on the wording this poster chose, when they complained about how "wrong" it was for Crowley to act that way, it kinda sounded like they were on the verge of citing bad writing, which hoo boy
About bad writing:
First off, everyone is entitled to their own opinion. If you want to say something is "bad writing" go right ahead but personally, I'd love to hear/read why you think that! I love hearing explanations of opinions (but I understand if someone just wants to throw something out there without it being tossed back at them)
Second, there's a difference between "bad writing" and "[this] doesn't align with what I expected/wanted to happen". Both of these have the given premise that you correctly interpreted what was written in the first place. Now, you can say that "can anything in the world really be interpreted correctly bc we all have our own individual experiences and preconceptions that influence how we see the world?" and I'll say yes of course.
"Bad writing", the way I understand it, is when an author writes a story in a way where characters consistently don't act the way they are supposed to based on what was established in the beginning of the story, or some twist happens where any/all character development disappears and it's supposed to sound like a good thing. (I am aware this is not always the case bc like with chemistry and the English language, writing has many exceptions for all its supposed rules.)
In other words, if one doesn't like how something happened in the work, that's not exactly bad writing, that's simply preference. If one didn't like how the author dragged on and on about how something happened that's unimportant to the rest of the story (e.g. describing a blade of grass for three paragraphs when it has nothing to do with the story), or did something to a character only for shock value and erased their development (or even the story's development) in the process, then that is what I'd consider bad writing. This is just my opinion though and I am not a scholar, I just read/watch a lot.
So, when someone says "it is so wrong for this character to act this way in this one instance" it kinda rubs me the wrong way because 1. Did we interpret that scene the same way? (In this case, no) and 2. If we did interpret this the same way, perhaps the author had a reason for the character acting in this manner - after all it's a one-time event. Sure, it's out of character but it's not bad writing since it's not a pattern. After all, we humans don't always act in-character - if your best friend is cranky after waking up late and clumsily spilling their coffee everywhere in their half-awake haze, are you going to tell them it's wrong for them to act that way after what happened to them? Why are we expecting well-written fictional characters to always hit their beats when we don't do that ourselves?
Maybe I read into this more than I needed to but I had thoughts and nowhere to put them. But if anyone wants to healthily debate or comment on anything I said, feel free! :D And if you want me to clarify something, I'd be happy to do that as well.
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rotationalsymmetry · 2 years
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This election season I’m not waiting for the “a vote for a third party candidate is a vote for a Republican/if you don’t vote because you don’t like either major party candidate then you’re the problem and also clearly swimming in privilege (because there’s totally a correlation between being privileged and not voting)” thing to start up, I’m just going to preemptively unfollow anyone who posts anything GOTV-ish that rubs me even slightly the wrong way.
Ahem. Voting is a choice, and for the system to even halfway sort of kind of function it has to be. If Democrats cannot possibly lose votes on the left no matter what they do, but can lose votes in the center, they will inevitably drift right. The only way we can mitigate this is if there’s some penalty in the voting box if a Democrat is too fucking centrist for words. Moreover, there are tons of people who intend to vote Democrat but might not if not given a little bit of a push/reminder to register/ride to the polls/etc, so please focus on those. Like the people who are actually paid to get out the vote (or who even just volunteer a few hours of their time with the Democratic Party, rather than independently posting whatever makes them feel superior on social media) do, you know? I understand text banking is a big thing these days, and for people who like a bit of creativity there’s postcards.
There is, also, especially for national elections, a sense in which voting is…how do I phrase this? You know when you give a young child a choice of doing their math homework with the pencil with unicorns on it or the pencil with the spaceships on it in hopes that they won’t notice you’re not giving them a choice about the homework itself? Voting can be like that, a way to get people to feel like the state represents them, and if there’s an asshat in power it’s other people’s fault, so that they will follow the rules and not, idk, unscrew the middle bar on park benches with an Allen key so that homeless people can sleep there or whatever. Or lie on their resume. Or refuse to rely on the cops when something goes wrong. Or hire people for odd jobs without asking for their social security number and paying them under the table so they don’t have to pay taxes/report their earnings and possible lose their disability money/whatever. Or look the other way when they see someone shoplifting baby formula. Or pirate movies, whatever.
The state functions largely by getting people to believe that it is good and that following the rules is good, and elections (where we all get to pretend that a politician’s constituents are the people who voted for them, and not the institutions that funded the campaign) are part of that smokescreen.
You will notice the unicorn pencil/smokescreen interpretation is not actually incompatible with the results of the election having a great deal of importance on people’s lives. Indeed, it would be quite difficult to get people to buy into the concept if the election results didn’t matter.
There is power in deciding the system is not just and you are not morally obligated to play by its rules. There is power in saying “the decisions made by my government are not made with my consent and are enforced against my will.” There is power in saying “not my president” about every president.
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petphantoms · 3 months
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hi I'm the anon from earlier. clarifying that scott isn't aro and i was referring to it being a headcanon I've seen alongside these types of interpretations, my bad on the wording there. and thank you for sharing your thoughts, I'd hate to get into like "shipping discourse" or anything so i hope the original message wasn't too idk pessimistic or aggressive about it, i was really frustrated at the time and the whole thing was really rubbing me the wrong way (so i might have been a little less charitable in my observations). I love discussions around interpretations and fanon and aus of this kind of thing and i think your input is thoughtful and interesting! sorry for dragging it out onto this one random blog though i do feel a little bad about it, you seem cool though
lol nooo! i love to talk! and aah that makes sense.. as a headcanon, and then pairing them together... that deffo rubs me wrong. and espec if he was aro irl, right, thats a totally different can of worms.. idk how to explain myself there but ty for the clarification!
i mean to be completely honest, i made the post bc i was asking. i was frustrated with it too, because my exposure to scott in the fandom had only been negative, so it was just not sitting right with me. now that im learning my way around i definitely am finding more folks that share interpretations similar to myself (or they just post silly shit and thats all i want anyway), and its not as like. im realizing. oh thank god, not everyone is doing that, but it was still so weird scary to walk in on...
100% if you want to chit chat or something about this stuff feel free to keep sending anons or even message the blog? i can dm you with my main or something if you go off anon and tell me you want that, lol. im open to really any shipping discourse i guess not because im a discourse person (i dont rly like discourse ngl) but because i do have an interest in what makes people see things the way they do, and i like discussions where i can throw my own hat into the ring and either learn things or feel like im engaging with others thoughtfully instead of passively.
i am 100% open to hearing your thoughts and or bitching, i wont say im staunchly anti a!fh, because truth be told i just dont have enough stake in it to care (and those who did explain themselves to me didnt seem to have poor intentions in mind, and it was just an interpretation! which was nice), but i am definitely.. not someone whos going to partake in it myself, lol...
i feel like i just rambled in a circle here but. don't feel bad for talking abt it, i opened the door myself, and 100% i love to chat so if you have more to say im all ears! we dont have to agree to have a discussion, hehe (: -🍄
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scattered-winter · 2 years
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*slams large ominous box onto counter* I found a ship-sinking kit. It has hatchets, flame throwers, plasma cutters, a canon...you get the idea. It works especially well for romantic/sexual ships of canonically aromantic or asexual characters. - Clone Anon
that's INCREDIBLE but unfortunately you're gonna have to FIND a canonically aro/ace character before we can use them 😔
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pocketsizedquasar · 3 years
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(this is long, sorry, I just don't have anyone else to rant to abt this lmao)
Ok I wanna start off by saying I'm white, so when discussing the portrayal of Jon as a POC I may make mistakes, and I'm sorry for if/when I do; please correct me. BUT I have been thinking a LOT about this lately and I gotta get it off my chest
A lot of the whole "portraying the TMA characters as queer POC" thing reminds me of that article/thread about how diversifying the cast isn't the same as actual diversity.
Black people's experiences, NB POC, and queer people's experiences are going to have notable differences from those of cishet white people. So writing a character as a cis or white or straight person and then just...making them a poc/queer person doesn't always work. Especially with things like TMA, because the whole point of the podcast is that it's based in enough reality that it could be portrayed as "real" or "possible"; the characters are portrayed as if they are real people, even sharing names with the actors who play them.
A white actor's experience is not going to portray all the same things as a black person's....a cis person's experience is not going to portray the same things as a trans person's. If a trans poc wants to headcanon Jon as a trans poc and it brings them happiness, that's fine!
But so often I see non-trans, non-queer, and/or non-poc portraying him as a black trans man without any real regard for what that means outside of "I drew a white guy but made his skin dark and gave him aesthetically pleasing top surgery scars".
Idk man. A while ago I was in a different fandom where for some reason abled people wanted to portray a notable character as physically disabled/ as a cane and wheelchair user. On the surface there was nothing wrong with it and you could have even called it "diversity", but as a physically disabled person who has used both a cane and a wheelchair, it really rubbed me the wrong way; I didn't feel represented and if anything it made me feel even more alienated from the fandom. I'm getting similar vibes from a lot of these cis and/or white ppl who headcanon the TMA characters as trans people and as POC. It's like you and others have said, it feels more fetishy than inclusive.
No need to apologize!
And YES. YES. "diversifying the cast isn't the same as actual diversity." This EXACTLY. This is how we get stuff like Hamilton and Shera other pieces of media, where Black and brown people are added onto stories to create an outward appearance of diversity, but the story itself is still deeply a white one, and in some cases the addition of POC in these stories actually obfuscates the existing racial dynamics!! (also looking at you moby dick musical). I feel like a bunch of white creators saw "we need diverse stories" and took that as their prerogative to start just unthinkingly adding POC to their narratives, when the call for diverse stories was never about them in the first place, but about POC being able to tell our OWN stories. A ~diverse~ cast means nothing if your writers' room is majority white, and means nothing if your story does nothing to meaningfully engage with the diversity it's using for its aesthetic.
With stuff like TMA, where a lot of the MCs are written as aracial (re: white), this is how you get like. Typical fanon-accepted versions of characters of color (as well as fanon-accepted versions for who doesn't get to be a POC: see martin almost universally being portrayed as a white man) on a surface level without anyone actually bothering to dissect what that would mean for the story. TMA already so deeply deals with privilege, capitalism, agency, and power, all of which are themes that inherently change if you make the protagonist a man of color.
If Jon is brown or Black then suddenly his interactions with the police and the fact that he is a victim of police brutality become very different. If Jon is a MOC then the abuse he faces at the hands of Elias, his wealthy white boss -- the abuse and manipulation that really is in many ways the driving force of the plot -- becomes very different. If Jon is a MOC then his bitter acceptance of his privileged and oppressive role in the apocalypse is VERY very different!! S5 especially is a narrative about privilege and power and what we do with it; Jon being a MOC in that narrative changes the entire character of the final season just as Jon being a white man in that narrative would drastically change the reception of it. How much would white ppl be willing to engage with this story if they viewed Jon as white -- as a white man choosing who to let suffer and who to let Gain power, as a white person claiming that he can be the arbiter of "fair" judgment on who deserves to live and who deserves to suffer and die? Would white ppl be able to actually engage with that, that dissection of whiteness? I really don't think so. I think Jon being a MOC enables a lot of white fans to distance themselves from the problems TMA -- in many cases successfully and many cases not so much -- tries to raise. I think white ppl making Jon a MOC often feel it exempts them from examining their own racial biases, both towards Jon and other characters, but also the very privileged biases that TMA itself addresses (and in some cases, the racial problems that TMA actually contains)
All this to say, headcanons do not exist in a vacuum. Projecting onto characters is all fine and good (hell knows that's literally how I write Jon -- projecting all my mishmashed identities onto him) -- but some careful thought into how we are portraying characters beyond "this is the typical fandom interpretation of him" or "I like how this looks" is...really necessary imo, especially when it comes to identities that you're not yourself a part of (this is general "you," not directed at u the asker specifically). There comes a point where your headcanon either is detracting from the text itself or complicating/changing it in a way that needs to be addressed; otherwise you're likely to end up lookin like a Fool TM /lh
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eremiie · 3 years
Note
i dont know if its ok to ask but- jealous possesive eren pleassee.. tyy🤸‍♀️
no, nothing;
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❥ eren x reader | 2.4k words | modern au
❥ content: possessive eren wooo, wall sex??, cum play i guess
❥ a/n; yes yes this is late idk what happened??? anyways this is season 4 eren, that’s the vibes this gives me
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"what are you doing?"
eren had your jaw in between his fingertips, head pointed up towards him yet eyes darting around to avoid his gaze.
you hated when he was like this— when he thought every little interaction with anyone other than him was some kind of advancement. it irked your nerves, yet your mouth stayed quiet and you stayed compliant when he spoke to you, when he confronted you.
your fingers danced up and down the material of his sweats to distract yourself. "nothing." your voice came out in a low mumble, nervous that if you spoke any louder than you were, eren would find it offensive.
"nothing?"
at least to you it was nothing, only a couple minutes ago before eren called you to stand in between his legs from where he was perched on the railing of the stairs, you were a distance away with your other friends, namely sasha, jean and connie.
it was late at night, moon in the sky as the five of you goofed off in front of connie and sasha's apartment. you had no reason to be out so late— other than the fact that you all were bored. you'd decided to get together at their shared apartment for a small get together but the house quickly became a bore.
connie tried to teach you a skateboard trick that sasha couldn't seem to get the hang of, although he deemed it as "one of the easiest tricks to learn." and since the title of the trick was self proclaimed, you wanted to try to see if it really was that easy. you didn't see any harm in that, you didn't see any harm when you finally attempted the trick and almost fell back, the rough surface of the skateboard flying out from underneath you and jean having to catch you before you injured yourself.
the four of you had a moment of laughter, and you had thanked jean for catching you. you didn't process what you were doing at the time because once again— you found nothing wrong with what you were doing. you found nothing wrong when your hands were encased with connie's for him to steady you, because it was just to steady you. you found nothing wrong when his hands were around your waist to prevent you from falling, and you found nothing wrong when you and jean were play fighting, you getting him back for letting the smoke from the joint ghost right in your face.
but eren did, he always did. every little gesture that was just friendly to you was flirty to him, every little gesture that mean nothing meant something in his eyes. it was irritating, you could always feel his eyes burning into your back, and you always felt like you had to watch your back. you felt like prey that was constantly being hunted, constantly being stalked and watched.
eren took a drag of the joint between the fingertips of his other hand, turning his head to the side to blow the smoke out before looking back down at you again. his gaze was intimidating, the way his eyes were low lidded in boredom— as if he's not surprised. like you have done this before and still haven't learned, even though there was nothing to learn, and a viridian stare that felt like it was looking right through you didn't help to ease the tense feeling in your muscles either.
"what do you mean nothing? you didn't see how they were all over you?" he asked you, tone low much like yours earlier, except it was steady and made you shrink from below him.
do you shake your head no? you didn't see how they were "all over you," but no didn't seem like a good answer for you, then again, you had no reason to lie to him.
"no."
you felt the tips of his fingers on your jaw tighten. eren let out a small incredulous laugh, as if he was in disbelief with your answer. wasn't it obvious? how could you not see the way they were touching you, messing with you, they were practically trying to make eren upset, they always did, and he didn't know how he was the only one who saw it.
his eyes trailed over your body, almost as if he was searching for something. "look at what you're wearing." your eyes skimmed over your attire. it was simple, his jacket draped over your shoulders at his request, covering both you shirt and your shorts completely as it was too big on you.
"eren, theres nothing wrong with what i'm wearing, they don't care,"
"how do you know?" eren furrowed his eyebrows at you in confusion, or maybe slight frustration at the fact that you weren't getting it. his hand dropped down from your jaw to your neck, resting it there while his thumb smoothed over your jawline in a relaxing manner if it wasn't for the conversation at hand. "baby, you're not watching them, i am."
the joint was brought back up to his mouth as he took another hit before letting go of you and sliding off the railing. "sasha," he called out for the girl, her hickory ponytail whipping as she looked towards the two of you. "here." his hand was out with the drug in hand, using his fingers to beckon her over to retrieve it while his other hand snaked around your waist pulling you close to him in a possessive manner.
sasha scurried over from where she was sat on the concrete, saying something to jean and connie before jogging over. "where are you guys going?" she asked as she plucked the joint from eren's fingers, putting it up to her own lips.
"______ needs to get something in the house, we'll be back in a minute."
you shuffled on your feet at his words— you didn't have anything to get.
sasha dismissed the two of you with a nod of her head, walking back over to the other two and repeating what eren said as he took you up the stairs of the apartment complex. he twisted the knob to the apartment until the door swung open, pushing you inside and shutting the door behind the two of you.
"eren, what—" his hand flew to your hips to push you against the door, your back hitting it with a thud that you were sure could've been heard by someone on the other side of the door. he towered over you, eyebrows coming together in aggravation.
"why can't you just fucking listen?" his question came out laced with venom, and you let out a small whimper with how tight he was holding you in place, his hips pressing into yours keeping the distance between the two of you almost nonexistent. "i'm not just saying this shit for no reason, you don't need to be letting them touch all over you. is that what you want?"
"eren—"
"huh?"
you repressed rolling your eyes and held your tongue, not responding to him once more. it almost seemed like your favorite thing to do— leaving him without a response, leaving what you were thinking up for interpretation although it looked like he already knew what you were thinking.
"i'm just trying to do you a favor." he murmured as he studied your face, grip softening just like the features on his face when you didn't respond, only a small pout gracing your features. his hand dipped down until it was underneath the fabric of his jacket, smoothing over the skin on your hip when it slipped between your shorts and shirt. "here,"
his mouth came down to kiss your forehead before pecking kissed down the side of your face, and you closed your eyes. you were used to this, it was the same process every time, he'd get envious, talk to you about it as if it was your fault, and then try to sweet talk you, convince you that it's you, and that it's okay, as if there was an issue in the first place. it happened every time.
eren let both of his hands slide to your ass, lifting you up until you were pushed against the door and leveled with his face. he held you up by your thighs, pressing his self into you and continuing his kisses down your neck.
his teeth nibbled at the soft skin and you held back the noises trying to elicit from your throat. it felt good, it did, he felt warm against you, and despite how he tended to act sometimes; you felt safe when you had him so close to you.
"since you seem to forgot," his hands moved quick, one of them wrapping around your torso to hold you up while the other one moved to pull down your shorts. the cold air of the apartment hit your legs all too quick— goosebumps spreading over your skin that were quickly soothed by eren's warm hand smoothing over your thigh once more. "let me remind you who you belong to."
and there he went, grinding himself against you, attacking your neck with kisses, you were sure he left a couple hickeys that'd be visible in the right lighting.
eren groaned when his finger went down to pull your underwear aside, the warm slick from your cunt meeting the side of his fingers.
he brought his hand up to his mouth, tongue sliding over his index finger as he tasted you, and you bit your lip feeling yourself clench around nothing.
eren shuffled to untie his sweatpants with one hand, then pulling them to his thighs along with his boxers before holding your underwear to the side and sliding into you with one quick motion. "fuck," he groaned feeling you sheath him inside of you.
a soft moan left your parted lips and you grabbed onto eren for support, your fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt as you held onto him, like how he held on to your waist.
his head buried into your shoulder as he pulled out and back into you, groaning into your neck as he continued to kiss you, your back hitting the door with every thrust. "oh, shit—" your sentence came out choppy, every stroke of his was hard, cause you to jolt up every time.
one of eren's hands went down to rub at your thighs before trailing back up your back to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck more to him. you winced, but the hold he had on your hair soon felt like nothing when his lips were on your skin again.
"nobody fucks you like this, yeah?" his voice came out muffled as he spoke against your neck.
you struggled to respond, pleasure was flooding your body and you almost felt incoherent with the way he was fucking you, it felt all too good, it always felt too good. it was something about the way he wanted to fuck you and let you know that you were his, and that you'll never be anyone else's.
"yes, yes." your voice was shaky, and you could feel eren smiling against you. he let go of your locks and moved his hand just a little bit further south to grab your neck instead.
he sped his pace up, and your hips moved to get him deeper— you were practically impaling yourself on him, every time he fucked up into you, you tried to meet his hips.
the lewd noises between the two of you were dirty, they made eren want to fuck you harder, knowing that despite everything that was happening moments ago you were always ready to let him fuck you good. "god, eren," you choked out, feeling his hand around your neck tighten.
you weren't worried about anything else— not about the fact that the other three could walk in at any moment, not about the black spots that were appearing in the corner of your eyes, not about the fact that this was supposed to be your lesson. you were only worried about the way his cock slid against your walls, the way that small tinge of pain made your body jerk when he would hit your cervix yet feel so good at the same time. your were worried about how your clit would hit the fabric of his shirt every time he fucked into you, and how close you were.
and by the way his hips were stuttering, the way his movements were becoming more sloppy, and his grip loosening on your neck, you knew he was close too. "what?" he breathed out, it almost sounded like a pant.
"i'm gonna cum," you moaned, and he dropped his hand from your neck to reach in between the two of you, thumb rubbing your clit in large messy circles until you tightened around eren, a cry of what could have only been his name leaving you as you came around him.
his eyes screwed shut as he felt your slick run down him, when he pulled a little out of you he could see the white ring you left around the base of his cock and he groaned as he used you to get himself off, thrusting into you a few more times before filling you up with his own cum with a grunt.
your legs felt weak, if he were to put you down now you weren't sure if you would be able to stand. so you sat there in his arms for a few minutes, both of you trying to catch your breath and come down from your high. your head was rested against his shoulder and his against your chest.
finally, eren slowly pulled out with a hiss, he was still a little sensitive. he let you step down, still holding onto him to not fall and he pulled your underwear back into place, his fingers pressing the cloth against your cunt  until he could feel his cum wetting the fabric, the squelching noises making you whimper.
"now let's go back out there," he sighed, content with the way you still gripped onto him as you pulled your shorts back up unsteadily.
"and remember who's cum you're filled with when we do."
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multiplefandomsblog · 3 years
Text
request(s); IZURU SMUT WITH AFAB READER - IT DOESNT MATTER WHAT THE CONTENT INCLUDED IN IT IS,I JUST, NO ONE REALLY WRITES FOR THE SCARY M A N 😢😢😢
paring(s); Izuru x AFAB!reader
warning(s); cussing, woAHH reader is a prostitute hired by enoshima, reader is AFAB, oral sex (m receiving), humiliation kink whoop, degradation kink double whoop, ah yes dirty talk, degrading names, spit-play,  prositution, multiple orgasms, wall sex, slow and steady wins the race, dumbification, begging, dacryphillia, sadism, kind of like fuck or die???? but not really??????? AND DEAR LORD I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING WITH THIS GOD oii
note; i actually had a dream similar to this— also i lowkey got attached to these characters and now im seriously considering making a series of this???? DHSBJDDBF IDK IT REMINDS ME OF, LIKE AAAA IDK
wc; 4.1k+
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Everything was terribly boring. 
It was funny; that had been the only thought Izuru seemed to have in his brain, even as you were on your knees sucking him off like he was your last meal. Glaring down at you, he stifled a disappointed sigh. In all honesty, you weren’t bad; but he knows he could do much better, perhaps even find much better. It was almost a guarantee that he’d get someone else to do the job for him much better. 
Sitting on the throne of a comfortable chair, he had barely broken a sweat, nor had he even moaned a single time. Of course, that would frustrate you; you were squeezing whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth, ‘faking’ moans—or at least that’s what you told yourself you were doing—to send vibrations down his spine, and swallowing all the filthy pre-cum of his cock had released. And the man didn’t even have the gall to at least pretend to like it. 
It irritated you.
Why had he even accepted Enoshima’s offer for you if he hadn’t even been enjoying it? You hadn’t even touched yourself yet, and you were the one completely soaking in your panties—whilst you swore you heard him sigh, and not one of pleasure. Every part of it was humiliating for you.
“This is boring, get off.” You perked your head up, popping your lips off the unsatisfied pink tip, and to your humiliation, you looked up at him with sad, puppy dog eyes; ones that you hadn’t even purposely put on. You felt your heart drop all the way down to your stomach, “Boring…?” Well, that did it. 
Desperation turned into anger, and before you knew it, you had been crawling on this man’s lap, thighs straddling him, and hands digging into his shoulder as you looked down at him with feigned dominance. You gritted your teeth, he hadn’t a single reaction, just a look of genuine curiosity, and the same look of bored annoyance. He didn’t seem to like being suddenly touched, not like you even cared. Boring, huh? You’d prove to this self-entitled fuck, you weren’t as boring as he thought you to be. 
“... What do you think you’re doing?” With his question of genuine intent to know, his dull tone of voice seemed to have affected your interpretation of what he truly meant to say. Despite the condescending and almost offended tone, he truly wanted to know. Someone like you, crawling into his lap as if you hadn’t been face-to-face with possibly the world’s most dangerous human being; brought a small spark of interest in his chest.
Maybe you had some potential, he would think. “Are you trying to prove yourself to me?” With his eyes gleaming with curiosity and anticipation, you leaned back as you felt him lean in. With his nose inches away from yours, you shrunk just a slight but kept your act as strong as you could hold it for.
You gulped, gaze and grip faltering underneath his piercing gaze. Suddenly you felt small again. Your previous surge of dominance seemed to crumble and collapse as he brought his hands up to grope at your hips, reminding you who was really in charge here. He narrowed his eyes as he felt your hesitance and yielding, his large hands that had cupped your ass had practically been supporting all your weight as you backed down in the body and in mind. Damn it. He wondered where your confidence went, it was only just getting fun— but perhaps, all good things come to an end.
Well. He wasn’t going to let you give up that easily.
Suddenly, he let go, causing your ass that had once been held up by his hands, to fall back and knock onto his knees harshly; and you swore you could see a ghost of an expectant smirk on his face. Surprising you further, Izuru uttered 4 words that only seemed to confuse you, yet excite you all the same.
“Go on then. Try.” Your breath hitched, averted eyes now confused and focused them back onto the long-haired male. “W- what?” Izuru’s eyes narrowed at you, and the impatient look he had sent to you almost felt like a reward as you felt yourself growing more sodden. “Try and prove that you aren’t just another hole. That’s why you’re still here, no?” He spoke, and you swore you could hear his voice lower in tone.
He rested his hands on the armrests of his chair, leaning back ever so slightly as he got comfortable; as if he was about to watch a performance made just for him—which hadn’t been far from the truth.
But to your surprise and not his, you obeyed. 
If this was your chance to prove yourself to him— the ultimate hope that everyone seemed to be intimidated by—you’d take it. Of course, you would. 
Despite the growing anxiety in your heart that you’d mess up, you pushed it down and put one brave façade; he would sense your fear if you displayed it too much. 
Your efforts turned futile anyway; you should’ve known he’d sense your hesitance. 
Acknowledging your hesitance you thought hadn’t been too obvious about, Izuru brought it up. “What’s stopping you? Your fear?” Izuru hummed, leaning down to peck at your chest, “Well, that’s understandable; you should be scared.” Followed by the light sound of his lips against your heated shoulder. 
“... Though I assume that’s not what you’re afraid of at this moment.” Assume? More like knew. You were so predictable to him, a flick of your finger could tell him exactly what you’re thinking. With a tender gaze you were surely seeing wrong, he stared up at you expectantly as he waited for your answer. 
“Well?” You gritted your teeth at his sudden gentleness, taking more offence to it than you should have. You didn’t like being treated with kid gloves, not by him at least; for all you know, he kills children. “I’m not scared of anything—” He was huge, of course, you were terrified. ”How do you know I’m not just trying to slow it down, so you’re ready for it?” You challenged, shifting yourself above his tip that still glistened with your saliva from the earlier blow. Izuru looked at you, nearly taken aback. 
It made you feel incompetent. As if he thought you couldn’t do it, as if he thought you couldn’t give him the best night of your life. Of course, you’d be offended. No one likes being underestimated, especially not by him. It just brings you a whole new different feeling of humiliation. 
And he knew that. He just wanted you to hurry up, you know, provoke you a little. Foreplay was… Boring; he’d think with a small smile.
“Surely, you’re not that idio—” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale, lips parting and eyebrow twitching from the way your slick cunt slid over the tip of his dick, sinking in with ease. “I- I’m not what?” You breathed out, a shaky, smug grin contorting on your face as you tried your best to conceal the fact his dick had felt like it had literally been splitting you in two. “Hnnahh— Jesus-” You dropped your head for a second, nails digging deeper into the material of his suit; surprisingly, he didn’t care all that much about the material damage—at the moment, he cared more about the fact you hadn’t even sunk half his dick in yet, and you already looked like you were near-tears.
Maybe care would be an overstatement. 
You bit down on your once-smug smile, jaw going slack as you felt the pleasant curve of his dick, rub against your vaginal walls ever so slightly—following the movements of your own heavy panting. “You shouldn’t be so cocky, S/o.” He didn’t seem to hear the irony hiding in between his almost-mocking words.
You scoffed at his taunting statement, staring him straight in the eye as you walked further into his trap, and sunk down lower—stifling a wince as you felt him sink in you alarmingly deep. How big was he!? Well, you already knew the answer to that question. Your jaw still hurt from earlier. But that stretch had been positively incomparable to the stretch your pussy had currently been experiencing. 
Izuru pursed his lips, silently groaning at the way your walls clamped onto him as if you were already trying to milk him of his cum. You were so tight, he noted in his mind; well he wasn’t going to complain. As a sex worker, he would’ve expected you to be looser, easier to slip in; it seemed one of his predictions had been incorrect. 
In a dry, uncaring tone, he addressed the bead of sweat forming on your forehead from the stretch. “Can you really take it? You look like you’re in pain.” the part that irked you the most had been the small undertone of genuine concern for your being. Yeah, Izuru; the ultimate I-don’t-care-if-you’re-dead, cared if you could take his dick. 
Maybe your heart would’ve been swelling with joy, had it not taken a large hit on your pride. You were a sex worker, not the protagonist of a fucking romance comedy. 
You could feel yourself growing angrier and angrier by the second; a large part of you just wanted to get him off and leave—but there was a larger part of you that… strangely wanted to please this man, prove him wrong.
Don’t get me wrong, the urge was purely sexual. 
Rolling your eyes at his ‘concern’, “Can you just- Nh!” you held your breath before clutching onto his suit a little more desperately than you wanted to as you sunk the rest of him inside you. Embarrassment made its debut in your reddening cheeks as you unwillingly let a few whimpers slip out. “—B- be fucking quiet? For on- Mn! O- once?” He paused before retorting back in that same blunt tone, seemingly unamused by your curses as he had been busy watching your bodily reactions closely, as well as feeling them first hand. “... You’re shivering.” He addressed the tremor of your shoulders, as well as the contractions of your walls against his cock. 
“It- It’s cold.” You lied through your teeth, to which he found annoying; surely, you knew that he would read through that lie, so what was the point of even trying? 
Sighing in annoyance, he bucked his hips, exhaling sharply through his nose as you yelped and collapsed onto him, body going limp as you felt him hit your sweet spot. With a slightly panicked moan, you dug your shined face deeper into the crook of his shoulder, causing him to shiver as he felt the breath of your moan hit his neck. “Hnn-! A- a- already?” Izuru scoffed quietly, “I thought you wanted me to be quiet. Which one is it?” Izuru’s condescending voice kissed your ear, and you felt your own shivers being sent down your spine from his voice alone. 
Putting on an annoyed façade that would soon shatter, you rolled your eyes—something you would probably be doing often tonight. “You’re really annoying, you know th-? Oh-! Oh fuck-!” You moaned, eyes shooting open, revealing your dilated pupils to the wall behind him. With your hands fanned out on his suited back, you arched your back against him, grinding slowly as you hugged him off the back of his chair. 
Mewling quietly, you found yourself trying to stifle your own moans, so you could hear better his own; only to pout as you heard nothing. Your sole purpose and presence with him at this moment had been to please him. You… needed to please him.
And only Atua knows what Junko’ll do to you if she finds out you didn’t satisfy him. 
Sighing in slight frustration, you felt him tense underneath your touch as you locked your lips onto his neck, lips searching and exploring every inch of the sensitive skin of his neck. Izuru’s eyes widened a fraction, only to lid as he felt himself growing bored again. “What are you doing?” You muffled against his neck, “I’m trying to find your erogenous zone—“ a large grin grew on your face as you felt him go rigid and stiff against you—as if he wasn’t already rigid and stiff—as you grazed your teeth on a certain spot on his Adams’s apple, a sign that you hit the jackpot.
“There, huh? I never would’ve guessed…” You spoke through gentle moans caused by Izuru’s natural reaction to fuck up into you harder. He shivered, sure, he was good at everything; but even he didn’t know he had an erogenous zone—or rather, where it was.
And now you had this information. 
You felt your confidence sprout back up again as you felt him melt, slowly but surely into your embrace, and slowly but surely, you tried gaining back control of what had been happening. 
That had been your plan; but as soon as your hands reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair, he flinched, nails digging into your hips harshly. “Hands off.” He growled, crimson gaze darkening in irritation from your feather-like tugs. 
Yeah, your plan. 
His scalp was sensitive, and he had made the mistake of reacting so strongly to your touch to it, right in front of you no less. It was a weakness; one you’d surely take advantage of as you fucked this man. Or rather, as he fucked you. Izuru grimaced as he could practically hear the mischievous grin in your voice, “Yeah?” with a warning tone, Izuru tried stopping you, “S/o.” you probably shouldn’t have felt as excited as you did from his warning voice; especially from a guy like him, but there was a part of you that really wanted to know what would happen—what he was warning you about. 
So you made the best mistake of your life; and tugged the already impatient man’s hair. 
Izuru hadn’t given you the time to even inhale a single breath, as he had you pinned to the wall in half a second. Shit, he’s fast. Well, what did you expect? Izuru was definitely more than ordinary—and as you still felt the stretch burning between your legs, you knew that more than anyone. “I- Izuru?” Izuru sighed as you shrunk underneath his hold, forcing him to hold you up by his hips that had been pressed up against you. Your cattiness seemed to disappear the moment he manhandled you to the wall; it was predictable. All bark, no bite. He wondered why he wasted his time with you. 
With your eyes wide and helpless, Izuru remained unamused. “Let’s get this over with.”
Underneath the shell of your body, you could feel your blood boil as the man thrusting into you, had given you that familiar condescending stare of pity. He didn’t seem very pitiful as he watched you writhe and squirm underneath him from his unrelenting pace, though you could still read the emotion clear as day; your eyes glared right back at him—though you could barely see where you had been glaring, as your vision had been blurred from your own tears.
He was planning to push you to your limits, because, maybe when you’re sobbing and begging for him to stop; maybe then, you’d be less boring. 
‘He was the ultimate at everything; of course, he would be good at this too-’ “Fuhh...- fuck!” Your first orgasm of the night washed over your body, shaking uncontrollably as you had been less than prepared for it. You’d often have to fake your orgasms or get yourself off once the person using you was done. So you, whether it was fortunately or unfortunately, weren’t used to cumming so quickly. Previous thoughts of distaste had been long forgotten, as you had now been completely weak; moments away from breaking down and throwing away your dignity to prolong sex with Izuru. 
Sobs spilled out of your mouth as Izuru helped you ride out your high. The man watched you from above, hands hooking underneath your thighs and slamming you against the wall harder than your body had gone slack in your arms. For him, it felt more like he was pleasuring you—but for some reason, he didn’t mind all too much. 
Through tear-stained eyelids, you glared at him, your warm body still trembling from the near-mind-blowing orgasm he granted you. “I- I can take it.” At least, you thought you could. In all honesty, you didn’t care. You wanted it, and furthermore, he hasn’t even cum yet. Your job wasn’t finished. If you had to be fucked until your mind broke for him to cum, you’d do it. You didn’t have a choice—but even if you did, you wouldn’t deny him; you’d have to be insane to. 
“How... persistent…” Izuru murmured quietly to himself, bringing a hand up to tap your chin, causing you to perk your head up and flush at the gentle touch; the way he looked at you made you feel as if you were a mere science project being examined. It may have not been ideal, but being gazed at like nothing but a lowly bug is better than being ignored.  
It was so easy to fuck you into submission, he thought. Grunting, he pulled all the way out, lip twitching at the lewd squelch of your pussy. He almost lost himself in the way your walls fluttered around the tip of his cock once again, before tightening as if you were trying to welcome him back in.
Izuru, with a sharp inhale, roughly slammed back in, hitting all the right places despite the thrust being as quick as a flash of a camera. You gasped for air, you felt as if you had just been punched with his hips—and before you could recover from it, you felt him pull out yet again, only to slam back in, a small exhale huffing out the man’s lips as he kept on doing that same repetition. 
“F- faster— Pl- please!” You choked out as tears welled up in your eyes, his thrusts had been so powerful and forceful, yet so calculated; as if he was aiming for your G-spot every time he thrust in—which he was. He growled under his breath, voice still monotone but more strained than before—it was almost impossible for him.  
“You’re too tight to go fast.” He deadpanned, “if I go any faster, I might break you.” He didn’t really care whether he broke you, but who in their right mind would want to be broken? 
It was almost comedic how quickly you perked up at the mention of being broken. “I- I wanna! Really bad, r- real bad! Please!” You blabbered and begged like an idiot, your dignity long gone. He hissed at the way your pussy gushed with your juices and excitement, struggling yet again to piston himself into you. “Do you only think with your cunt?” Izuru narrowed his eyes down at you, disbelief and disgust gleamed in his red eyes; and it only made you squeeze around him unwillingly.
You shrunk, shaking your head as a babyish pout contorted onto your lips. “N- no, I-” The slow slapping noises of his hips on yours grew in volume, and your eyes widened as you could feel and hear him getting more frantic, hitting you deeper—places you were sure weren’t even supposed to be touched were abused by the crown of his growing cock.
Through a tone that tried its best to be calm and composed, Izuru shakily breathed out. “Open your mouth.” 
“W- Huh?” With slurred speech and crossed eyes, you tried your best to find his red eyes through the tears that blurred your vision. You were so fucked out, you weren’t even sure if he had actually said anything or if it had been your imagination.
“You heard me, don’t play dumb.” You hadn’t been playing dumb; you were dumbed. But Izuru held no patience for your games, and you could definitely feel that in his increasingly painful grip on your ass—he was sure to leave a bruise on your skin. With a confused look in your eye, you hesitantly dropped your jaw for him, whimpering and jolting as you felt something wet spew into your mouth. Before you could whine or even get the chance to complain, Izuru had forcefully knocked you against the wall again, lightly hitting your head as he steadied you against the surface with one hand as he used the other to close your jaw.
You hadn’t even registered the fact you had spit into your mouth as your mind had been too foggy from the intense feeling building up in your stomach once again. “Swallow.” Without so much as a questioning noise as a reaction to what he had done, you obeyed. Swallowing thickly with bleary eyes, you tried your best to keep eye contact with the man who seemed way too calm for the aggressive pace he had been maintaining like a pro.
Not thinking much of it, you dropped your jaw and flattened your tongue down against your chin; it was almost instinctual as you obediently showed him you had swallowed all of it. It seemed to please him, as he traced his thumb absentmindedly over your jawline; it almost felt like a reward, to be touched like that. His gentle hands differed greatly from his pace that fastened within each second that passed the both of you by. 
Your moans grew in volume, and you could feel yourself getting overwhelmed by how fucking good it felt to be fucked by him; moans and groans turned into full-blown hysterical sobbing as you felt your second climax approach. He grunted in frustration as he felt your walls clamp around him once again, convulsing as you gasped for air, his breaths huffing out in small intervals as he tried to get himself to his own high. 
Nothing was said as you threw yourself into him, hugging himself close to you as if he was your lifeline despite your twitching body—you weren’t sure how long you could hold on before you passed out, but you tried your best to stay conscious. He hadn’t cum yet.
It may have frustrated him, but it also frustrated you. Running your hands down his neck to his well-defined jaw, you cradled his skull before attaching your lips onto his neck desperately, practically slobbering over him like a dog as you kissed and sucked at his neck—to which he groaned quietly at. It was a terrible job, you were necking him so sloppily, and he hated himself for grading your performance when really, he should’ve been indulging in it.
The sounds of his hips slapping against yours, combined with your small moans that you tried to muffle against his neck, had overwhelmed his senses and he found himself going blank in the mind for less than half a second. 
It was dangerous, to leave yourself vulnerable like that. 
So without another word, sound, or thrust, he hoisted you up and dropped you against the chair; in which you unravelled like a velvet carpet over the soft, plush furniture. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you didn’t want to part from him, you didn’t want it to stop. There, he continued his assault to your already battered cunt, grunts and sharp sighs spilling out his mouth as he concentrated on getting himself to climax. 
“F- fuck, Izuru— Izuru, you’re splitting me- in t- two!” You sobbed out, arms flying up to wipe your tears away that prevented you from seeing the esthetical man above you. With his hair looking like it was flowing behind him, and the thin layer of sweat shining on his skin, you felt your heart beat a little faster— what?
You hadn’t even been able to register the dread of the realization of your feelings, as, without warning, Izuru creamed inside you. His hips stuttered to a stop, and he leaned himself completely over your body that had folded over the back rest of the chair, nose meeting the crook of your mid-chest. “Hhah...” He panted, clammy hands that had been gripping onto your skin tightly, loosened as he took a second before getting up and off you. 
You scrambled up from your position on the chair, legs and pussy numb as you struggled sitting up.“Wait Izuru—!” You called out for him, catching his attention as he cleaned himself up with a convenient towel Junko had left on the table. 
Zipping up the fly of his pants, he stared at you, waiting for you to continue what you had been planning to say as he flattened the creases of his suit. 
“W- were you...” You gulped, flushing as you recalled what you had done earlier. “Were you satisfied?” Your voice had been meek, afraid of his answer for more than one reason. Junko really would show you despair if she found out you didn’t satisfy him. “... I’ll let her know I was.” You sighed in relief, shoulders going slack as you fell back on the chair. You’d live another day.
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gentlemancrow · 3 years
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idk if you’re still taking requests so no pressure but maybe jmart 18 about jon’s scars? or,,, honestly however you wanna interpret that lol
Hehe bet you thought you weren't getting one. But of COURSE you're getting one! <3 HERE YOU GO!! Sorry it is late I am not a fast writer haha! This was a VERY interesting one to interpret and I got a little wonky and metaphysical there for a bit WHICH I LOVE and THE IDEA MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BIT LONG FOR A DRABBLE BUT! It's soft and I'm soft and I enjoyed this one SO SO MUCH ; w ; I hope you do too!!
Jon had Seen enough. Martin had decided that long ago. He had witnessed enough, been forced to witness enough, been the vessel into which literally everything had funneled into in an unrelenting typhoon of unspeakable, unfathomable horrific knowledge comprehensible only to him long enough that he damn well deserved the luxury of imperception. He had earned the right to not notice when Martin accidentally bought the wrong brand of chai, the one he insisted tasted like someone rubbed a stick of cinnamon on plasterboard and jammed it in a cardamom pod, but honestly tasted just like the one he preferred. The universe, whichever one they happened to be in now, owed him not realizing the buttons on his cardigan were one off until they were about to head out and Martin had to fix them, fingers humming with the warmth of him lingering in the cashmere every time. He deserved to forget his keys and then also have to go back to check that their flat door was locked twice, just to be sure. He deserved tossing cabbage in the trolley at the market, only to get home and realize it was a head of iceberg lettuce instead, and also he had completely forgotten the onion anyway so back he would have to go. Tiny and insignificant, patently human foibles that any normal person might tally up to a really rotten day overall and gripe about over a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape he had won as gleaming, pyrrhic badges on the ruins of his humanity yanked back from the claws of the yawning, devouring dark matter of the cosmos and stitched painstakingly back together with love.
But mostly Jon deserved to not notice the way people looked at him.
He need not see the painted-on expressions of strangers that ran the gamut from quiet pity, to voyeuristic curiosity, to outright revulsion that Martin could not help but see everywhere they went. They had no idea. Not even the slightest inkling of what, exactly, had composed that magnum opus of horror and pain scarred resplendently on his flesh, his bones, his sinews and synapses. To even try know was to go mad, the mind looping through and around and between consciousness and logic and love and fear and philosophy and metacognition until it squeezed into an ouroboros black hole singularity of dense unknowing that collapsed in on itself and perished in cataclysm. They had merely gotten lucky that being extruded through the plumbings of creation seemed to straighten out their fibers enough to be woven back into the fabric of reality, but they were too kinked and snagged and gnarled to ever lay fully flat again. And that was why they stared.
The invasive beings of Jon and Martin had come to mutual terms with it long ago, but they also knew they would be forever incongruous with an innocent world, with a world where they did not belong and that collectively looked at them both like an ontological cancer, benign but festering and ugly. They would never know the thing that crouched behind the stars with pointed knees and elbows that even then, groped to find their new world in the lightless vast, and Jon deserved to not perceive any hints of that either. He deserved their quiet, their peace, their wordless human acceptance.
Jon deserved to be innocently chewing a periwinkle-painted thumbnail in front of the ice cream counter, just as he was that gossamer spring afternoon, turning woeful and forever mismatched brown and green eyes at his husband and asking if he should get mint chip or rum raisin before deciding, actually, could he have a sample of the salted caramel ribbon first? He pointed eagerly at the various frozen tubs behind the glass with his gnarled right hand, where the fingers never did quite open or close properly again, and missed in his wonderment at the veritable cornucopia of sweet delights available to him the mingled look of pity and horror on the cashier’s face as she doled out samples at his request. Martin lurked protectively behind, silent, sentinel, seeing it all, a hot brand of fury boring its way through his chest as he glared icy blue daggers at the clueless young woman, who only compounded her crimes by complimenting the permanent white forelock in his ginger curls as she took his order.
Martin snatched his double scoop of rocky road and pralines and cream out of her hand with a withering scowl and said nothing. Jon, frowning in the dread shadow of Martin’s hushed wrath and finally deciding on just the mint chip, took it upon himself to pay while the poor young woman skirted around both their gazes. They took their ice cream to enjoy in the balmy sun on the metal patio tables outside the shop under a cloud of unspoken insults and slander which Jon was more than happy to pop open the conversational umbrella beneath before the downpour.
“Something wrong?” he asked solicitously.
“Nope. I’m fine,” came the curt answer, suspiciously also lacking in eye contact as Martin stabbed his pink spoon into the rocky road.
Jon’s mismatched eyes narrowed shrewdly. There was one thing that never escaped his notice, even now, and that was the painfully obvious way Martin always broadcast his inner hurts and the physical language of his turmoil he had become fluent in over the years.
“Okay, yes you are probably fine. And I’m guessing it has nothing to do with you actually, because you’re angry and you rarely get angry on your own behalf, which means it’s probably something to do with me or some perceived slight. What happened in there? Did someone make a snide remark about my eccentric ice cream selection? The long skirt on a warm spring day? Oh, no, I’ve got it. It was probably the earrings, yes? I knew I should have gone with the feathers instead of hoops, matches the outfit much better.”
The corner of Martin’s mouth quirked up in a hapless, crooked smile as Jon coaxed a laugh out of him, and he looked up into his gaze adoringly to grant him unspoken conciliation.
“No, no not at all. Nothing like that. It’s nothing, love. It’s not a big deal. Just low blood sugar or something. Just eat your nasty mint chip or rum raisin or whatever that unholy concoction is,” Martin snorted, gesturing at his cup.
“Liar,” Jon crooned with loving reproachment, reaching out to thumb a little bit of rum raisin on the tip of Martin’s nose as punishment.
Even breathed with such unfettered, undying affection, Martin hated that word. He hated how transparent he still was to the man he loved, how much he still truly saw him, saw through him. At least all it took to compel him now was a little melted ice cream rubbed clean off his nose and a winsome smile with love-puddled green and brown eyes.
“Okay, okay… fine,” he admitted with a resigned smirk and a sigh, “I don’t like the way they look at you. Okay? That’s all.”
Jon’s brow knitted together curiously.
“Hmm? Who? What do you mean?” he asked.
“Everyone!” Martin finally effused in frustration, “Everywhere! They look at you like you’re… like you’re damaged goods! Like you’re some pitiful beaten animal on the street, or worse, like you’re some sort of- some sort of um…”
“…Monster?” supplied Jon, lips pursed and lids drooping.
“…I wasn’t going to say that,” Martin stammered.
“What other word is there?”
“Fine, they look at you like you’re a monster. They take one look at your face or your throat or your… your hand. And I can just see it on their faces. They look at you like you’re a monster, and I hate it. You don’t deserve that. You never did! They don’t even know you! They don’t know what happened to you…! And sorry, Jon, but I get angry about it because it’s not fair, and I can’t exactly go about lobbing right hooks into the faces of everyone who even looks at you cross-eyed, now can I? Much as I’d like to…"
Jon went quiet as he listened, dabbling first in the rum raisin, then indulging in a little mint chip chaser, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully as he nibbled on the plastic spoon.
“Is that what you see?”
The color rolled out from Martin’s freckled cheeks along with the very spirit from his eyes in a fog, his entire mien awash in pallor.
“What? How could you say that to me? I would NEVER think that about you, Jon! How could you ever think I would think that? I-I know I said some awful things in the past about your scars, but I-“
“No no! Martin, no! Of course not! I know you would never!” Jon cut in, reaching across the table to snatch his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, rubbing his knuckles and over his wedding ring, “You misunderstand! I was asking if that’s what you see in their eyes?”
Martin clung to Jon’s hand, heart palpitating and breath easing.
“Oh…” he blurted dumbly, flushing with lively hues of reds and golds once more, “I-? Of course I do, what else could it be?”
“I don’t see that. I don’t see that at all,” Jon answered simply, “It’s… hard to describe but, damaged goods, disgust, morbid curiosity, those are all… Hard things. They have sharp edges. And when people here look at me, I don’t feel anything hard or sharp, it feels… soft? It feels gentle.”
Shaking his head, Martin frowned.
“Gentle? How is openly gawking at someone’s scars in any way gentle?”
“It’s just a feeling I have. I suppose,” Jon mused, thumbing at his beard with his free hand as he constructed an analogy that would make sense in his mind, “Mmm… Think of it like this. Humans, life, we’re all very visually oriented creatures, right? We respond to visual cues in our environments that are universally understood. We wear these rings so that everyone knows we belong together, just the same as bright colors usually mean poison, or how specialized feathers, or horns, or dewlaps and the like let others know they’d be a good mate, or how some things look like eyes or like entirely different creatures to scare off predators, and so on.”
The creases in Martin’s forehead only deepened in confusion.
“Okay sure, but scars aren’t a natural adaptation? We don’t look at scars the same way we look at pretty eyes on a moth wing or something.”
“I know that, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jon reiterated tenderly, “What I’m saying is I’ve always felt like my scars are a visual cue, but one that says to others ‘treat me gently’, because clearly I haven’t been. And it’s… well it’s been quite nice. You were about to tear that poor girl’s head off, but didn’t you see how she not only gave me about six samples when the sign clearly said two per customer, but then she also gave me the rum raisin ‘by mistake’ and then conveniently forgot to charge for it?”
“Wh-did she?” Martin gasped in shock, rewinding the transaction to remember that indeed, Jon had only asked for mint chip, but there was clearly also a generous scoop of rum raisin in his cup, ”She did… No I… I guess I didn’t notice…”
Jon let Martin’s hand go to cup his cheek pointedly in his scarred palm, running his thumb over the soft curve of his cheek and the spray of his ruddy freckles comfortingly.
“You want to know what I think? I think what you perceive as disgust or aversion or even pity is just fear, like you had. Fear of pain, fear of disfigurement, of fallibility. People are always afraid of seeing what can become of their mortal bodies, but that has nothing to do with me, or being disgusted by me. People are, at their cores, good and gentle, Martin. I know they are, we both do. They see me, my cane, my limp, my hand, my gray hair, my face, and they don’t even ask, they just know, on some primal level, that life was not kind to me. And so in some tiny way, like free rum raisin, they almost always try to give something back to me.”
Jon had known. He had noticed. It had never escaped his perception as Martin had assumed. Jon had known all along, but it was only Martin who still saw daggers in the smiles of strangers while he had taken the last vestiges of his powers irrevocably branded on his body and soul and sowed something delicate and beautiful and blossoming in his new earth. Martin had made a weapon. Perhaps no less delicate and beautiful, but still cold and sharp and deadly. The razor white edge of the sun through frigid fog.
“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Martin choked, his throat pinching shut with the threat of tears, “I-I had no idea…. I-I only thought…”
“It’s alright, please don’t cry, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. You only thought you were protecting me. I protected you for so long, when you were desperate to do the same for me, to save me, but had no power to do either. Now you’ve got your turn to do the protecting in earnest, and honestly, it’s a… can I- can I say hot? Can I say it’s a hot look on you? Or is that weird?” Jon asked, tips of his ears blushing coyly.
Martin managed a laugh as he sniffed back the tears and thumbed both sets of lashes dry under his spectacles.
“It’s a little weird for you, in particular, to say it, just because it’s you. But I’ll take it.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Perhaps then, Martin thought as Jon leaned over their whimsical little metal table outside an ice cream parlor by a park with a striped canopy above them and birds singing and kissed his tears away and then kissed his lips into a smile, that sharp things needn’t always be weapons. Perhaps his sword was, in reality, a spade, or a hoe, something to tend and nurture the new and fragile happiness Jon had tilled. Gentle things deserved gentle protection, and he was still going to devote every iota of his being to protecting Jon until the end of their days. After all, as they finally got to enjoy their slightly melted ice cream, Jon still dribbled a bit of rum raisin down his beard and carried on none the wiser. Martin let him go on like that, blissfully unaware, talking about Polyphemus moths and the myth of the cyclops and something about someone going about as Nobody, until he finally reached out with a napkin to attentively wipe it away.
Other than a gracefully paced ‘oh, thank you dear,’ Jon never missed a beat.
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plan-d-to-i · 3 years
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1-people forget that in the universe MXTX created it is stated that YZY's situation is not normal, it is a patriarcal society so wives don't keept their names nor do whatever the fuck they want and they certainly don't humiliate their husband without even being told off, she's uniquely horrible and JFM is uniquely spineless. i always think JFM did love and worried about WWX but that last interaction he threw him under the bus to appease JC so his last memory would cement that he did love him
2- bc he didn't have more time to keep trying to make him understand and i always wonder how things with JC could have been fixed, easiest would be having had the balls to get rid off YZY early but if he divorced her (or got her killed lol) would JC have been different? or would he resent him even more for not protecting his mother? idk i feel like JFM was cursed from the moment he accepted to marry her and i can't help feeling bad for him
LOVE THIS. So I agree w like 99.9999% only my feelings over JFM change every five minutes. I never hate him but I vacillate wildly between i feel like he could've done more and ig he was himself a trapped in that situation so it's unfair to hold him fully accountable.
Madam Yu is an undeniably violently abusive woman who has married a kind, non-confrontational man. Most of JFM's flaws are only seen as 'flaws' instead of qualities because they framed as ineffective against someone as rank as her. I wouldn't even say he's spineless, because he does cancel YanLi's engagement for fear that it will make her as unhappy as his own marriage made him & effectively stands against his wife's demand on top of also passing on a very beneficial alliance w Jin Clan. (In fact Jin GuangShan is way more reluctant at the thought of taking this news to Madam Jin.)
Abusive relationships have their own dynamics so it's hard watching from the outside how JFM's resignation to his circumstances and avoidance are ineffective against, someone like YZY who materializes like a storm cloud to rain her venom down on everyone, especially WWX. Because WWX is not only bearing the scars piled on his back from YZY's whippings/'discipline' but he's trapped in a perpetual balancing act between JFM, YZY, jc and to an extent Yanli. He has to make JFM proud/see the value in keeping him around & at least in the beginning of his stay with the Jiangs we know he always tries to eat/take less than he needs, but he can't be so good & talented that jc feels threatened or set Madam Yu off. At the same time Yanli rewards him with soup and affection when he takes the fall for jc his first day there. This definitely establishes a pattern wherein WWX sees his usefulness within the Jiang sect in diverting punishment for the failings of those around him, especially jc, to himself. She also repeatedly asks him to just accept jc’s shifty behavior as a representative of his affection... bc she's a huge fucking enabler, which probably doesn’t bode well for how she’s come to interpret affection.
As for YZY she's the only one who paints herself a victim, when it's clear she's the instigator of the conflicts!!!! She’s literally the bad guy, boss, fly in the ointment etc. There's a lot of gaslighting in her interactions with JFM so I'm confused as to why people think that of everyone she's the reliable narrator or some poor sad victim of an uninterested husband??? She clearly does as she pleases in Lotus Pier, yells at JFM in front of Servants, accuses him of fathering a child with his friend's wife, she whips the head disciple for imagined infractions with a spiritual weapon! and pretty much just chills w her ladies when she isn't busy spewing venom wherever she goes. WITH NO REPRECUSSIONS. If JFM had been a woman and YZY the man I'm sure all her cringe stans would be frothing at the mouth to drag her(yzy) to hell by the balls.
People love to accuse JFM of favoritism towards WWX or showing him more affection. To me it's clear that for JMF, WWX is simply an extension of his father/friend & ultimately a subordinate in the Jiang household. JFM clearly cares about jc, it's not his fault that jc doesn't get it, and it's not his fault that YZY is always poisoning their relationship. JFM for his part is still trying to guide jc towards how he's meant to occupy his future position as Clan leader, quite gently too considering jiang cheng was berating WWX for saving their allies... I’m sure if anything JFM hoped WWX’s morality and sense of right and wrong would rub off a bit on jc & why wouldn't you want someone immensely talented and loyal and devoted to the well being of your son and family around?? JFM did a nice thing getting WWX off the streets but that doesn’t mean he also didn’t think WWX could be a good friend to jc who when WWX is first brought to Lotus Pier has ZERO friends, and was likely to remain with zero friends considering his personality. Only someone like WWX who is forced by circumstances, & his kind nature & gratitude to the Jiangs would be in a position to befriend him. So I think it's laughable to say JFM favors WWS when WWX was the sacrificial lamb friend/pet JFM gifted his son. Not to mention that the only person who says JFM doesn't properly value jc is again YZY. Ofc jc takes to like a duck to water because he's cut from the same cloth as his rancid mother and it's much easier to blame WWX for all his failings and misfortunes than to take a good hard look at himself or ever take responsibility for anything. jc doesn't do self reflection. There isn't any scenario where jc would have been a good person. He's lacking basic human empathy. His view of the world has him as its center. He can only relate to things as they concern and affect him and he doesn't even possess a modicum of honor that might keep such selfish impulses at bay.
To conclude, I totally agree. JFM cursed himself the moment he let himself be coerced by YZY and her Clan into marrying a person whose character and values he knew ran so deeply counter to his and his Clan's own. Sure enough under the control of jiang cheng, the original spirit in which Jiang clan was established is gone. It's a place devoid of warmth that people are scared to visit lest they be confronted w the screams of people being flayed alive.
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div-divington · 3 years
Text
big ol’ invicncible spoilers, watch the show first trust me you’re not missing anything if you don’t read this post
I’ve never talked about a cartoon or tv show before but I’ve gotta say that people who say there’s ‘no complexity’ to Omni-Man’s character just tick me off.
I mean, listen, he’s totally a villain at least in the cartoon adaptation (I’ve not read the comics, going to consider them separate entities for the sake of argument), but he’s far from a two dimensional sussus amogus imposter blindly readying the planet for invasion.
I whole-heartedly believe that Omni-Man enjoyed being a superhero, saving lives. I believe his friendship with the tailor guy was real, I believe he respected, admired even, the Guardians of the Globe, cherished his relationship with Debbie, and enjoyed living among humans. The brief interaction with Darkwing and The Immortal when the Mauler Twins attack the White House is so sincere right? Like, it seems to me he respects them, the jokey “you’re welcome” when he saved Darkwing, the “I had him” when he saved the guard Immortal was going for, that wasn’t necessary of him. He had no real reason to be playful and cordial with them, he could have been distant and still gained their trust easily (I mean, Darkwing was a jerk and they loved him). The brief moment of shock and unresponsiveness when Mark revealed that he’d finally gotten his powers? I honestly believe that was a moment of disbelief. I think he hoped Mark’s powers wouldn’t manifest, hoped he wouldn’t have to continue his mission. That pause was him coming to terms with the end of things. The realization that he would have to hurt people he respected, finish his mission, and end his time as a father, author, and superhero.
When he collapses after murdering the Guardians of the Globe, the look on his face isn’t just exhaustion from the fight, it looks to me like shock. Disbelief. I don’t think he wanted to kill the Guardians, I think he hated doing it, but it’s what he was bred for. He was born and trained from childhood for thousands of years to weaken a planet from within, prepare it for invasion. Earth had superheroes, naturally a pretty noteworthy obstacle for an invasion, so he, in his mind, had no choice but to kill them. And notice that most of his kills are pretty... clean? He goes right for Immortal’s head, ditto with Aquaris and Green Ghost, snaps War Woman’s neck, kills Darkwing in one clean move, tears off Martian Man’s heart(? is that a heart?), crushes Red Rush’s head (which seems slow because of Red Rush’s perception of time being RIDICULOUS compared to our own, that horrific scene only lasted like a second for the rest of the characters). He goes for quick, clean kills, minimizing pain. Maybe its just brutal, soldier-like efficiency, since the greatest superheroes on Earth cannot be allowed to get any good hits in (they nearly killed him as it was), but what if it was a desire to not prolong the suffering of people he genuinely liked? 
We see in the flashback towards the end (during the THINK, MARK, THINK! scene lmao) that he initially didn’t give two shits about humanity on a deep level. He loved and respected Debbie and his then-very-young son, but thought humans were, on a whole, primitive and dumb. But as he spends time observing them, watching their culture, interacting with them, living with them, he warms up to them. The smile on his face when Mark hits his first homerun in little league, remembering Debbie’s favourite foods, the way he laughs when he mentions how a superhero had to meet the president in a plaid supersuit, the fishing photograph with the tailor. Even after he finally reveals himself as an infiltrator, the way he talks, to me, shows respect for his adversaries even as he demeans and belittles humanity. The discussion with Cecil, the warning to ‘stay out of this’. Nolan seems reluctant to kill anybody he doesn’t have to, and seemingly acknowledges that the Global Defense Agency at the very least is a minor threat.
So, you say, why does he act so AWFUL at times?
Well, his seeming lack of emotion after the funerals for the Guardians of the Globe can proooooooooooooobably be chalked up to his alien psychology. He finished grieving, he didn’t see the harm in cracking jokes about them. Calling Debora a ‘pet’? I think that honestly would be him trying to rationalise his feelings for her. There’s a fraction of a second where he hesitates to say it, and I honestly think he’s just trying to explain to himself how he could ever love a ‘lesser lifeform’. Killing all those innocent people? In his mind that was justified to get through to Mark. He doesn’t enjoy it -- though he also doesn’t dislike it -- he just sees it as a flat necessity, no less insignificant than killing a bug (i said the man is a complex character, I didn’t say he wasn’t evil). 
Don’t forget, Nolan’s genuine reasoning for bringing Earth into the Viltrum Empire is to help it. He argues that Viltrum technology can end hunger and poverty, end crime, revolutionize medicine. In his eyes, his indoctrinated eyes, he’s doing the right thing to help the people of Earth.
He still thinks he’s the hero.
‘it’s right to pity them’.
He sees humans as lesser creatures, he thinks they need protection from themselves, need to be brought up by the Viltrumites to be better. They can’t survive on their own, they’re weak and soft, they need us to reach their full potential, to find true glory in serving the might of Viltrum. Omni-Man does not see his actions as evil, he thinks he’s the good guy. He reluctantly kills the Guardians of the Globe, slaughters thousands of people, and destroys a city in order to, in his extremely twisted sense of morality, help people.
And, in the end, it is not the Viltrumite parts of Omni-Man and Invincible that end the conflict. It is Mark’s very human belief that he will, one day, get through to his dad. His refusal to give in, his undying love and determination to save people, save Nolan. It’s this that reaches Omni-Man. It doesn’t reach the tough soldier he had been for thousands of years, it reaches the small part of Omni-Man that wasn’t pretending to be human. The part that is Nolan Grayson. The part that, despite still seeing them as primitive and inferior, likes humanity. It’s a human tear that leaves his eye as Nolan flies away from Earth, finally giving up and refusing to facilitate the invasion if it means killing his son, something a full Viltrumite wouldn’t hesitate to do for a second if their family got in the way of their conquest. He was changed by his time with humans.
I’m not defending Omni-Man, he’s obviously a bad guy, an antagonist, serving a genuinely evil empire, but i AM saying he isn’t some flat, boring two dimensional villain who just PRETENDED to like humanity for the twenty odd years he spent living there. I’ve seen people in youtube comments replying with “I think you misunderstand Omni-Man as a character, you see, he was simply pretending to not hate humanity, it was all an elaborate ruse, there’s no real depth and inner terminal in him at all uwu” but i think THEY misunderstand Omni-Man.
He’s not morally grey, he’s arguably not even redeemable, but he IS a complex and well written character and boiling him down to ONLY being an evil alien who tricked people into liking him just rubs me the wrong way.
but idk maybe I misunderstood him and he really IS flat and boring. Maybe his time with humanity didn’t change him at all, he isn’t emotionally conflicted, and he’s just less cool than I thought.
And despite my seeming passive aggressive language, it’s totally chill if you disagree with my personal interpretation of Omni-Man as a character, art is meant to be a unique experience for everyone, so if you see him completely differently to me that’s great! I just dislike the insistence from some people online that anybody who sees him as a deeper, more complicated character is just wrong.
also sorry for this post coming out of left field entirely lmao 
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