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lacrimaomnis · 3 years

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BRF Reading, 20/7/2021 (Part 1 of 3)

Background: This is the one question that drives me to pick up the tarot and learn to read myself. Some of you might be reminded of three spreads @celticcrossanon did on Archie, and yes, this is partly inspired by those spreads. I asked this question again because the first time I tried to read about it, I got the feeling of my stomach churning and it was so bad I wanted to throw up, so I thought: there must be something. Am I scared to do this reading the entire time? Yes, I am very much scared because I'm afraid the cards will show me something I don't want to see. But as you can see, the curiosity killed the cat. I am that cat.

A fair warning though, this reading might veer into the conspiracy theory realm. Is it hard to believe? It is. Just because I read tarot doesn't mean I believe in conspiracies. I find it difficult to believe what I read because it challenges all the established facts that were particularly established by the existence of the birth certificate.

This is the first of three spreads.

As written, this is merely a speculation and therefore must be taken with a grain of salt. This speculation is not true until proven otherwise.

My question is, does Lili exist?

Cards drawn: Page of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles, Page of Swords, Four of Wands, Five of Cups, Eight of Cups, Page of Cups Underlying energies: Nine of Wands, Queen of Cups

Summary: I have my "yes, I do exist!" card, which is the Page of Swords, but with it came another two Pages. This reading is confusing at best and is just nonsense straight out of the realm of conspiracy theory at worst.

First card: Page of Pentacles. As a birthday card, in my deck, this card is associated with birthdays between December 22 to December 28. Zodiac wise, Pentacles represent the earth signs: Taurus, Virgo, or Capricorn. If we are to believe the information given to us, Lili was born on 4th June, which means she is an air sign, particularly Gemini -- but this card as the first card drawn immediately made me doubt if she is indeed delivered on 4th June because this card suggests otherwise.

This card suggests to me that Lili is a Capricorn because this card is associated with birthdays between December 22 to 28, but that just does not make sense. If she was delivered on 4th June, and assuming all are normal (9 months pregnancy, nothing is out of the ordinary), then she should've been conceived at least 9 months before June, which should be around September last year. Barring anything that could go wrong, it is impossible to have her born in December, just 3 months after being conceived -- because if she was indeed born in December last year, she doesn't exist, the woman who carried her miscarried.

What is not impossible, however, if she is delivered later than 4th June. Here is where I veer into the realm of conspiracy theory. My understanding of how each person is assigned into a zodiac is rudimentary at best, so please do bear with me. If this card is to be believed, then Lili should have been born around December 22 to 28 this year. If again, we assume normal pregnancy for whoever carried her (9 months, no early delivery, yadda yadda), then she should've been conceived around March this year. This interpretation implies that Lili is still not here yet. Which is impossible, because we have her birth certificate.

Whichever theory you choose to believe, neither of them makes sense to me. Both are equally impossible. I ruminate a lot around this card because this is the card in the first position, and for me, anything than the Page of Swords in the first position indicates an answer other than "yes, she exists". I think I even remember the controversies around the supposed birth certificate, but the only thing I remember from it is that Harry was listed as HRH something something.

Second card: Queen of Pentacles. Who are you? What are you doing here? How do you relate to this reading? If you are not Meghan, then who are you?

Queens typically represents feminine energy, and Queen of Pentacles is the ultimate embodiment of a motherly figure. She is practical, secure, motherly, and wise. In my deck, she is illustrated as a woman wearing a crown and holding a rabbit inside her arms; a symbol of fertility and family.

I was just...who are you? You are a woman of the earth signs. You are not Meghan. Are you the surrogate people have been seeing in their cards and have been suspecting? Do you confirm to me (even when I don't ask) that Lili is born from your womb and not Meghan's? What do you want to tell me? Are you even a person? My gut says you represent someone, but who are you?

Third card: Page of Swords. This is the absolute "yes, I do exist!" card for Lili if she is indeed born on 4th June. Sadly, this card is not the first card of this spread -- that spot was filled with the Page of Pentacles. Page of Swords is the card of "words and ideas" rather than "feeling and intuition". She (the pages in my deck are all drawn as young women) is associated with messages and messengers and can also manifest as gossip, which made me think about the buzz around Lili's birth. There were a lot of hearsays and speculation before and after her birth, particularly because of the distasteful choice of the name her parents given her.

Now, in my reading, there are several Cups cards (Five, Eight, the Page). If this card comes up with several Cups cards, this card is particularly hard about honesty. This caused me to think: is there any dishonesty on Meghan's part from the announcement of pregnancy and until Lili is born?

Fourth card: Four of Wands. Again, this card seems to come up a lot lately. This card is closely associated with the elements of home and family. It is about a new life, new success, and prosperity. In this spread, this card is about the "immediate future".

Fifth card: Five of Cups. This is the pair for the Four of Wands. This is the card of grief, loss, and negative thinking. This card signifies difficulty and loss, and as it is the pair of the Four of Wands, could this signify that the loss was about a family member? An element of home?

The only thing I can think of is that the readings saying either whoever that carried Lili miscarried or something happened to Lili that involves a loss so difficult that Meghan mourned as if she lost Lili.

Sixth card: Eight of Cups. The card of walking away, leaving the situation, and leaving things behind. This card heralds change and transition, prompted by dissatisfaction, unhappiness, or because it is that time to take that leap of faith. This could mean turning away from a present situation even if you have invested a lot of money and energy into it, just because it is time to move on.

This card comes in pair with the Page of Swords. This may tell us that we will hear of new rumours surrounding this child to turn our attention away from the distasteful choice of her name (which is entirely her parents' fault, she is in no way responsible for something she didn't have the power to choose) -- that book by Harry? An alternative interpretation is that Lili is left behind, people walking away from her because she disappointed them, whatever the reason was. I really really hope this was not the case.

Seventh card: Page of Cups. This card is about creativity, new projects, and inspiration, but also about immaturity, escapism, and emotional troubles. This card comes as the pair of the Queen of Pentacles: if the Queen of Pentacles is the surrogate, could this mean that carrying Lili caused her turmoil and emotional troubles?

Underlying energy 1: Nine of Wands. This is the card of being wounded, to hold your ground, and of resilience. This card often indicates that the querent must hold their ground against all the challenges thrown their way. This card may also speak of a recent illness. Was Lili ill? Is she ill? Was whoever carried her suffered from illness?

Underlying energy 2: Queen of Cups. This is the card of virtue, fertility, creativity, success, and power, but also of an inability to connect emotionally, a lack of empathy, and stress -- and this is coming across as Meghan. She perhaps might be stressed, she might perhaps is in a disconnect with Lili? If looked at from the Queen of Pentacles angle, the Queen of Cups further emphasised that Meghan, represented by the Queen of Cups here, might not be fertile or healthy enough to carry Lili full term, which further reinforces the Queen of Pentacles represents the surrogate analysis. Combined with the Nine of Wands, I am inclined to say that either Meghan is in distress and might not be able to connect with Lili, who needed her mother the most at these moments, or that Meghan might not be healthy or fertile enough to have a baby and carry it full term.

Conclusion: This reading tells me absolutely nothing I want to hear, but rather it makes me question things that are already established (I'm looking at you, Page of Pentacles). Nothing makes sense. I got an answer to a question I didn't even ask (that Queen of Pentacles) if that counts as an answer. Just as I feared, the cards showed me something I did not want to see, because I don't see anything that tells me "yes, this baby exists, she is healthy, and she is loved by her parents".

#reading: brf #g reads

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soldrawss · 4 years

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So I’mmina start this off by saying literally all your aus/drawing make me smile. They’re all so fascinating and sweet and so,SO well thought out! That being said, not to be that person that brings angst into a fluff buffet but... in your Movie Star Dad AU, do the boys every have mixed feelings about their father suddenly appearing in their lives after a prolonged absence? Also would Christof Von Bradford be an issue for the fam, considering his active competitive jerk energy he has with Lou?

Hi, thank you for your sweet words!!! I literally think about my rottmnt aus every waking moment, no joke, so I’m glad that you think they’re well thought out! I do my best! (also always bring angst. I always have a lot of angst in these au’s, I just also try to even it out with just as much fluff) The boys were YOUNG when Yoshi came into their lives, and each of them have their own perspectives on it, so at the time, they didn’t really have any huge negative feelings towards their situation before Yoshi found them because his absence wasn’t really,,, prolonged.

Mikey was literally a baby, barely a year old, so he doesn’t ever remember a time when Yoshi wasn’t in his life. Yoshi is the only parent Mikey really knows, and he’s completely fine with that. If Mikey has any mixed feelings, it’s towards his late mother, who he has absolutely no memories about, and only really knows her through the pictures Raph kept and the stories Raph and Yoshi would tell about her. He sometimes feels bad that he doesn’t feel as sad about her passing as Raph or Yoshi does, and he sometimes feels bad about not remembering her at all, but it’s also weird cause he knows he shouldn’t feel bad about it, cause he was too little to remember anything anyway and that’s not his fault, but the weird gross feelings in his stomach are there all the same when he thinks too hard about it. So he tries not to think about it. And just blissfully goes about his days with his doting dad and his overindulgent big brothers.

Raph was nervous and distrustful of Yoshi at first, because of course he was. He was 4 years old, sitting in a hospital bed alone with just his tiny baby brother in his arms, nursing a concussion and ugly road rash on his arms and legs while also nursing a broken heart after just losing mama. And then suddenly this man appears, the man in the movies that mama always loved to watch, except he’s not wearing the flamboyant jumpsuit he’s always wearing, but a maroon sweatshirt and old jeans. His signature styled pompadour and orange shades replaced with a disheveled ponytail and bags like bruises under his eyes. And a lot of people come and go throughout the next couple of weeks. Doctors and therapists and child services and lawyers and all of their faces begin to blend together in a dizzying swirl and Raph has a hard time focusing on anyone who isn’t Mikey. But the man stays the same. His face stays intact, and he follows them wherever they go. And then suddenly Raph and Mikey are allowed to go home with the man, and he tells them how he’s their dad. And how he didn’t know they existed, but he’s going to make up for all the lost time tenfold. And he promises he’s gonna love them enough for both him and their mama. Which Raph doesn’t think is possible, and so he’s suspicious and untrusting at first, cause no one can love them more than their mama did. But the man tries. Boy, does he try hard anyway. Tries to win every smiling giggle Mikey shoots at him and earn Raph’s faith that he’ll be there for them. That he’ll protect them. That he’s going to love them forever. And over the weeks and months, through every tantrum and screaming fit and long sleepless nights, he proves it, little by little. He stays. And he loves them. And Raph’s faith in the man grows with every bedtime story and piggyback ride and half-cooked pancake with too much syrup, and Raph’s guard slowly goes down until it’s fully surrendered over to this man who is their dad, and it’s never raised again. Donnie knows the routine. He’s been through it approximately 27 and a half times before, through all the foster care homes. A new family takes him in. He messes up something. The new family gives him back. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. He’s been here before. He knows this isn’t going to last long, despite all the promises the man with the thick accent says. And Donnie doesn’t really register that this man was his biological father. He doesn’t really care to, to be honest. What was the point? His own biological mother had willingly gotten rid of him, Donnie’s snuck a peek at his record, he knew it all. So what if this man was his dad. That didn’t mean anything. He was gonna get tired of Donnie the same way all the other parents did. Tired of the constant questions. Tired of the broken appliances and half baked reasons why he took them apart in the first place, because apparently “I wanted to see how they worked” wasn’t a good enough answer. And Donnie was three years old and smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for and you know what? He was tired of it too. Tired of getting his hopes of a family finally understanding and accepting him. Tired of wanting a family who would love him back. Tired of getting his heart broken time and time again. So he wasn’t going to get his heart broken this time. He wasn’t going to accept anything of this man, with two boys already that shared Donnie’s eyes, and he wasn’t going to let himself be the fool again. And as the weeks went by, this cold shoulder game he was playing was getting harder and harder to keep, because dangit, this man really did try everything to prove that he was the real deal. The forever family. And Donnie’s new ‘brothers’ were always bright-eyed and curious about everything Donnie did and said, and actually wanted to play his weird word games and puzzles and wanted to spend time with him, and Donnie felt something short circuit in his brain because he wasn’t used to this feeling in his chest. This warm and light feeling. Something must be overheating in whatever engine was running inside of Donnie’s chest, and Donnie didn’t have a clue how to fix it. He also didn’t know if he wanted to fix it. But of course, it didn’t matter anyway. Because Donnie messed up. It was bound to happen eventually, Donnie got to brazen with how comfortable he was getting in the large house, and when he was running in the hallways, chasing after Raph in an impromptu game of tag, he accidentally slipped and knocked into the t.v stand, sending it straight to the floor where it broke into a hundred different pieces of glass and tiny wired parts. Donnie was mortified, knowing this would definitely send him back, and he got on his hands and knees and tried to collect the parts and put it back together but there was no time. The man that Donnie was half tempted to call dad half the time was already in the room, searching for the source of the loud crash and when his eyes finally landed on Donnie and the broken t.v behind him, Donnie couldn’t help but burst into tears. And he tried to explain, tried to apologize and he promised he’d fix it, he promised, he’d fix it up brand new and then the man wouldn’t have to send Donnie back. He’d be good. He’d fix this. He promised. Just please don’t send him back. And Donnie didn’t see the way the man’s body flinched at Donnie’s sobbed confession, and didn’t see the man lurch from where he was standing to pick Donnie up and hold him in a tight embrace saying all kinds of things that didn’t make sense to Donnie. Because the man was supposed to be angry. Angry like all the other parents eventually were. Angry and disappointed and tired, not... well... whatever this was. Which was holding him close, and running shaking hands through his hair and rubbing circles into his back and saying “Are you ok? Did you get hurt anywhere? Did you touch the glass? Shhh, shhhh, it’s ok buddy, breathe, you’re ok. You’re not in trouble. You don’t have to fix anything. It’s just a t.v. As long as you’re unhurt, then it’s ok. You’re ok, sweetheart. I got you.” And Donnie could feel the man press kisses into Donnie’s hairline that made the 3-year-old cry even harder, and press his face farther into his dad’s shirt as he clung to him for dear life. Because it’s never been just ‘ok’ before. Never. And for the first time, Donnie was starting to learn that with this family, with this man, being ‘ok’ might just work out after all.

When Leo meets Yoshi for the first time, it’s with a heart already filled to the brim with excitement and acceptance as he fully lets him into his life. Because Leo’s 3, and doesn’t know where he came from like most of the other kids in the halfway home. All he knows is that he’s always lived in this cramped house, sharing a room with a broken AC unit with 4 other boys around his age that just loved picking on Leo because of how small he was and how his skin was two different colors. He’s used to the house, and strict rules about eating and playtime, and the mean older kids that come and go while Leo always stays. He doesn’t want to be used to it, but he is, and his lonely daydreams and nights wishing upon all the stars in the sky are filled with thoughts about a life where he gets to leave this place. Dreams about a mom and dad or even a cool uncle or caring grandparents or literally anyone, coming and rescuing him and taking him far away from this place. Dreams about finding a home, with someone there calling him theirs. Belonging to someone, and having someone belong to him too. And then on a dusty and warm afternoon, that very person showed up, and Leo smiles at him hard enough to hurt his face. And he was looking for Leo, Leo specifically, not someone around Leo’s age or who looked like Leo, but actually Leo. And the man wanted Leo. Wanted him like no one had ever wanted him before. And wanted to take him home and call Leo his forever and Leo would have thought he was still dreaming if he hadn’t kept pinching himself the entire 6-hour flight to New York. And not only did Leo get a dad, but he got 3 brothers as well! 3 brothers, who all looked different than Leo but shared his brown eyes all the same, and didn’t mind that Leo talked a lot or made a lot of jokes and didn’t bully him for being or looking ‘weird’ like the other boys he grew up with did. And even though dad says that Leo’s his, and Raph and Donnie and Mikey want to hang around and play with him, Leo still finds himself pinching himself every night just in case. Because this is almost too good to be a dream. It couldn’t be real, right? Did Leo deserve this? Was it really his to have? To call his own? Was a kid like him, who grew up with nothing, who grew up as a nothing, allowed to have everything, and be somebody worth keeping around? Leo wasn’t sure, but if this was a dream, it was the best one he’d ever had, and he hopes he doesn’t wake up from it anytime soon.

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vicarfelix · 3 years

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A Team Matter

Felix Millstone x Fem. Captain

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,036

“This is our mission. You just happen to be the captain of it.”

Her team was like family to her. From the young and youthful Parvati to the auto mechanic SAM, every single one of her crew had a special place in her heart. Truth be told, none of the missions she had been on so far would’ve been possible without their help along the way. The Captain admired their hard work ethic and their loyalty. It was rare for any of them to question her judgement or decision making. Whatever she would do or say, they would be there to back her up. That was truly special to her.

That wasn’t to say that they didn’t bump heads with each other every now and then. That was life in a nutshell. It was impossible to get along all the time. 6 different people and 1 robot...all with completely different personalities. It was inevitable for there to be tension and disagreements at times.

The person who had grinded the Captain’s gears today was none other than the esteemed priest himself. She respected Max a lot. She put a lot of faith into him. He had an interesting backstory that had a couple of holes in it. She knew he had been to prison, spent a huge portion of his life searching for...well, that as the part she never quite understood. He was a trained hacker and served as an important asset to her team. That was why she had no issue with deciding to help him with a favor. She traveled with Max to Fallbrook to find an old scholar friend of his. Although, once she arrived and located him, she discovered that “friend” was not at all the case.

She was able to detect during the conversation that Max had lied to her in order to be sure she’d accept the task of his favor. She did not take kindly to lying, especially when Max knew what the bigger objective at hand was. It was her decision to make whether Max’s request was worth taking the time to do. The fact that he had fibbed in order to manipulate her decision did not make her happy. It infuriated her beyond description.

She scolded Max and expressed her anger for what he had done. He seemed genuinely sorry, acknowledging that he let his own personal feelings get in the way of what was important. She chewed him out royally and even made him cower a little bit. Thankfully, the Captain had brought Parvati along and she was able to fizzle things out before the Captain did something she’d soon regret. She seriously considered firing him on the spot and leaving him behind in Fallbrook. In the end, she decided that wouldn’t be right. She couldn’t leave anybody behind.

Still, she made sure that he knew if he ever pulled anything like that again then he’d be gone. The trek back to The Unreliable was quiet. Not even Parvati dared to say anything to try and ease the mood. Usually, Captain tended to avoid being spotted by raptidons and go around them. However, she had some serious negative energy to burn off and she made it a point to shoot at every single one they passed.

Eventually, Captain entered the ship, closing the door behind her selected crew. ADA greeted them per usual, her voice echoing through the ship. Parvati was quick to climb the stairs to the upper level because she could barely handle the tension anymore. Max knew that the Captain had nothing more to say to him and that she likely didn’t want to see him for the rest of the night. So, he returned to his bunk and called it a day.

She usually would huddle with her crew to wind the evening down and discuss the game plan for the next day, but truthfully she just wanted to be alone for a little bit.

The rest of the crew was upstairs sitting around the kitchen area. They found it odd that Max didn’t stick around to chat, but it all made sense when Parvati explained in a hushed voice.

“I would leave Captain alone until tomorrow if I were y’all,” She advised; “She’s madder than a stuck primal.”

This surely got everybody’s attention, especially Felix’s. He always worried about Captain. Even more so now that they were an item. He knew she could handle herself and anything thrown her way, but he still didn’t like it when she was upset about something. Nyoka, who was standing at the counter, chimed in soon after;

“Why’s that, P? What happened?” She asked for Parvati to elaborate.

Parvati looked to make sure Max wasn’t in the room before continuing;

“Mr. Vicar lied to her and she found out. She hollered at him and I was sure she was going to let him go. She went straight to her quarters when we got back just now.” She said, taking a seat next to Felix.

Ellie let out a low whistle. She was standing at the head of the table, arms crossed and brows raised;

“She always checks in before turning in for the night. That must’ve been some lie to make Captain that upset.” She stated.

Felix was fiddling with the tossball that he always kept in his pocket. The wheels in his head were turning. He knew how Captain felt about traitors, liars, people who abuse their power. She wasn’t a fan when someone told a lie for personal gain, but even Felix knew it was peculiar for her to be this frustrated over it.

“I’ll say. That’s not normal at all.” Felix claimed.

Knowing that there wouldn’t be a team meeting, the rest of the crew scattered into their own rooms just to start the day over tomorrow. Felix, on the other hand, decided to pay her a visit once he knew she had some time to mellow out. He crept quietly downstairs, careful not to wake anybody up who might have been asleep. He could be a bit heavy footed and he had his fair share of being yelled at for activating SAM in the middle of the night. To avoid this, he was sure to remove his shoes to soften his footfalls.

He came to the Captain’s doorway, peeking his head in to see her standing at the long tabletop, leaning against it. He watched intently as her eyes gazed over the planet in front of her, deep in thought. She eventually noticed his stare which prompted him to offer a bright grin.

“Hey, Felix,” She said in a rather monotone voice; “I’m guessing you’re here to check on me.”

He shrugged. She was half-right. He did indeed want to check on her, but he also just wanted to see how her day went. Although, based on what Parvati had said, he was sure it didn’t go so well. He took that as an invitation to enter and approach her. He stood next to her, his hand finding the small of her back;

“I just wanted to see my favorite gal,” He said cheekily; “And to check on you.”

She knew once Felix figured out that something had gone awry that he’d come bopping in to see what was up. Truth was, she was relieved to see him and to have someone who was always willing to listen.

“You know the situation I’m in,” She began; “The situation I’ve dragged all of you into.”

“I think it’s fair to say we brought ourselves into it. You didn’t exactly ask me to be a part of this crew...I asked you for a job.” Felix corrected.

“But I didn’t tell you my mission until after I hired you,” She retorted, moving across from him to sit on the bed; “I’ve been tasked by some crazed scientist for all I know to save the colony. I wasn’t given a lot of instruction other than to take this ship and keep in touch with Phineas. I don’t even know what the endgame is gonna be.”

Felix was listening closely. He turned from the window to face her, leaning back against the table. It was all starting to make sense now. It was simple. She was stressed and the pressure was beginning to get to her. He let her go on;

“I’m the one who’s got to save Halcyon. To be successful, I need our crew to be honest with me and all on the same page. I need to be able to put my trust in this team,” She said; “That’s why I got so upset with Max today. He lied to me to ensure that I would do something that he wanted. It didn’t affect anything too bad, but that was a serious blow to my trust in him.”

Felix understood where she was coming from. He believed that honesty was extremely important, especially with the way things were now. He saw both sides of the coin. He saw her position as a captain with a life changing goal ahead, but he also understood how much finding Reginald meant to Max.

“Max didn’t mean any harm. He understands that he should’ve handled it differently,” He suggested; “The mission wasn’t affected any. We’ve still got time.”

Felix had a point, but she was still irritated. As the captain, she was the one who had to decide what was worth their time. She got to decide what they had time for. She never minded doing something for someone in your beloved crew, but she still had a big mission hanging over her head.

“I know that, Felix, but what’s going to happen when I set us out on a mission that does affect what I’m trying to do here?” She said with your voice having a slight edge to it; “Then the colony’s fate is destroyed just because I thought it was a good idea to let the vicar have a fucking book translated.”

He would admit, he would never want to be in her shoes. That was one hell of a weight to carry alone. He was just fine being a crew-hand. However, she was perfectly able. She had what it took to save Halcyon. She had a badass squad, a family, by her side to help the cause.

“What’s this ‘I’ nonsense I keep hearing? This isn’t your burden anymore. This became a group matter the second you hired the first person of this crew,” He said with a sense of urgency. He couldn’t let her go on any longer thinking this was all on her; “This is our mission. You just happen to be the captain of it.”

Her heart was warmed by his words. That was unbelievably comforting. She needed their help, each and every one. She couldn’t do this alone. She knew this. Phineas knew that when he brought her from her 70 year hibernation that she’d be able to find companions to assist you along the way if she wanted it.

“You're saying if I go down with this mission, then you’re going down too?” She asked semi-joking.

He smirked, raising and settling his brows quickly;

“Damn right we will. It’s all or nothing, boss. We’re in this together.” He said moving to join her on the small bed.

“Thanks, Felix. I needed that.” She admitted; “And I thought I told you that you don’t have to call me boss?”

Felix smiled proudly. He knew he could lift her spirits. She was sounding like herself again. He leaned back onto her pillow and stretched out. Looked like he’d be staying the night here. Not that she minded.

“I like calling you boss. Even if you weren’t my captain, you’d still be the boss of this relationship.” He laughed heartily.

She playfully smacked his leg, a little offended at his statement.

“You calling me bossy?” She asked with a giggle.

“Yeah, I am actually,” He confessed; “But I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

She blushed. What a guy. She was thankful that she ran into him that fateful day on Groundbreaker. There’s no way this mission would still be afloat without him and the team she’d built. They’d be by her side no matter what.

For that, she was forever thankful.

#felix millstone #felix millstone x reader #felix millstone x you #felix millstone fanfiction #the outer worlds #the outer worlds felix millstone #felix millstone oneshot #felix millstone x female captain

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booasaur · 3 years

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Hello,I'm so frustrated,I was explaining how in music industry,duet and dances by 2 girls mean a lot to us, we have something that belongs to us,not belong I mean but it's us, That it exists is something,So I enjoyed their performances,and with different girls,I rate their performances, the dude kept saying I enjoy girls being intimate and sexual, referencing viral kissing video, so I'm just using them for my gain, multiple times, Please how do I explain this, English is not my native language

Hi!

Okay, so first...why are you responding to this person at all? You don't have to explain yourself to anybody, but especially people who come at you in bad faith, like they'll always doubt and question you no matter what you say. What is it you're trying to get out of this? Actually convince them? For the purpose of other people who are observing? Or because you don't want to look bad in public? If it's the first or third, like...just leave it. You're not getting anything out of it, there are tons of bad people believing and saying bad things all over the place. It's not your responsibility to convince them.

BUT I can get how if it's not the second one, you still feel the urge to say something, you can't relax until you've tried your best. You think maybe if you say the right combination of things, you'll get through. You probably can't, but I get the frustration.

At this point, I was kind of unsure what to say, I went to my friend and I was like, I mean, we're not fetishizing ourselves? I don't know what other defense I'd use.

She's way better at this than me, so she had some things to offer:

First of all, you don't owe anyone an explanation for why you favor duets and dances between two girls. The person who is arguing with you isn't actually willing to understand you, it's likely that he'll accuse you of ridiculous things, no matter what you say. Likely because he's misogynistic/homophobic.

I don't know who this person is, but if it's a comment on a video you made, or something - then it might not be worth replying to. Not giving these people attention is often the best thing you can do. And if you can block, best to block. You don't have to spend time on negativity. That said, I understand you want to defend yourself.

I think the first thing you should do, is realize that you're not on trial. This person might be doing the accusing, but you can question him as well. You can ask "Well, what is it to you? Why does it bother you?" and "What is wrong with just focusing on music and dance between girls? Is there anything wrong with that?" and "Do you also harass people who focus on music and dance when it's boys? Don't they sexualize people as well?" It puts the onus on the other person, rather than making yourself the person on the defense. [And if he's like, actually I don't like that either, and tries to equate you with how straight men are about porn, or even women about m/m, then tell him to go bother them. They all outnumber is exponentially.--booasaur]

Then, I'd call out the double standards or hypocrisy. For example: "Girls kissing is not more sexual than anyone else kissing, if you think that, you're homophobic." And "If making appreciation content/videos for girls is for "my own gain", then the same counts for everyone else who makes content about music or dances too".

And "As a bi/lesbian/queer girl I do enjoy performances between two girls, because it's rare, and because they represent me, and there's nothing wrong with that. If you think there's something wrong with that, then there's something wrong with straight people enjoying content between boys and girls as well."

But yeah ultimately it's more powerful to just be like "There's nothing wrong with what I do. Leave." It really comes down to emphasizing that being interested in intimacy between women because it reflects your own sexuality is simply... not wrong.

Hope that helped, anon!

ETA: Okay, I actually did ask my friend what if the guy came back with “Oh, I don’t like any fetishization, but you act like you’re better than straight men and porn or whatever and she came back with:

The reason it's arguably "wrong" when guys do it, is because we live in a world where women are perceived and reduced to sexual objects and lesbian sex is specifically fetishized by men, the fetish based in a desire to participate in a performance of sexuality that inherently doesn't include them. It's about an objectification.

With queer women, we are arguably the subjects reflected in the performance of lesbian sexuality, so it's less inherently objectifying.

That doesn't mean women can't objectify other women, necessarily, it just means that 1) there is no wide spread societal precedent of us objectifying/oppressing/harming other women for sexual gratification 2) for queer women ourselves, there's long-earned pride and power in reclaiming our sexuality and celebrating out desire for women, especially outside of the permission and participation of men.

As she said, this isn’t an open declaration that all women are better in how they engage with sexuality than all men, and that wlw are the best above that, this is about the world we already live in, the trends and socialization we’ve already experienced. There are men who aren’t gross and women who are, but your act of just appreciating and seeking out female-centric performances is not inherently gross in any way.

#replies #femslash related stuff #sent on 20210621 #Anonymous #anonymous

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xtruss · 3 years

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A Muslim Writer on Finding Her Voice in Post-9/11, Post-Trump America

— By Aisha Sultan | 09/01/21 | Newsweek.

A new generation of Muslim Americans is making its mark. Spencer Platt/Getty

Like most Americans old enough to remember, I know exactly where I was and what I was doing on September 11, 2001 when the first hijacked plane hit the World Trade Center in New York City. I was showering when I heard my husband yelling for me. Dripping wet and wrapped in a towel, I watched in shock, along with tens of millions of others, as the Twin Towers fell, killing thousands of people inside.

Emotions from that day feel so much closer than two decades ago.

My stomach turned in revulsion. My body tightened with fear for my relatives who worked there. Dread settled like a heavy rock on my chest. Like other Americans, I wondered, who was attacking us. But as a Muslim, I had other questions too: Did the attackers claim to be Muslims? And, if so, what would happen to the rest of us?

I quickly got dressed and headed to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, where I worked as an education reporter. I talked to stunned school officials and students while still trying to process what was happening.

That evening, I checked in with my family in Texas. My brother, then in middle school, had been in class when his teacher broke the news. He became nervous and, in the teacher's eyes at least, asked too many questions. "Is this World War III? Did they bomb downtown? Are they going to bomb our town next?" The teacher told him to shut up and leave her classroom, that she couldn't bear to look at his face.

Riz Ahmed attends the "Mogul Mowgli" press conference during the 70th Berlinale International Film Festival Berlin at Grand Hyatt Hotel on February 21, 2020 in Berlin, Germany. Ahmed recently criticized “dehumanizing and demonizing portrayals of Muslims" in films. Andreas Rentz/Getty Images

My mother's co-workers at the department store where she had worked for years suddenly refused to speak to her. Cops escorted my hijab-wearing cousin off her college campus because it was no longer deemed safe for her to be there.

In the immediate aftermath of that day's horror, my grief and anger as an American was so compounded with my fear and anxiety as a Muslim that it compelled me to do something unthinkable for me: I poured my heart out to the readers of the Sunday paper.

Back then, it was unusual for a news reporter to pen a personal response to a national tragedy. This was long before social media made us all performative, confessional animals. I needed my neighbors in the Midwest to know that while Muslim Americans shared their grief and anger, we also feared whether our country would turn on us.

I ended that column with the questions my college-aged sister had asked me: "Will the government come after us like they did with the Japanese? Will other Americans stand up for us?"

I told my readers the same thing I told her: I don't know.

I wasn't sure what to expect but dozens and dozens of readers responded to her question with expressions of support: Yes, we will stand up for you, you and your family are one of us, they said, in one way or another, in message after message. There were just two negative, Islamophobic emails in the bunch.

Such an overwhelmingly positive response seems inconceivable now, given how polarized our discourse is now and how normalized hate speech has become—an irony, when you consider how heightened anti-Muslim sentiment was at the time.

Key moments after 9/11 also feel unimaginable now. Back then, a Republican president, George W. Bush, visited the Islamic Center in Washington D.C. days after the attack to tell the American people that the attacks violated the tenets of Islam—"Islam is peace," he famously said—and to defend Muslims as equal citizens worthy of respect and protection. Our last Republican president, by contrast, touted a "Muslim ban" across the country. Even my state, Missouri, now bright partisan red, was a swing state back in 2001, where Democrats sometimes voted for Republicans and vice versa.

Coming together after tragedy: U.S. Muslims sing "God Bless America" at an interfaith memorial service in Pasadena, California for 9/11 victims two days after the attacks. Lucy Nicholson/AFP/Getty

It was against this backdrop that I felt moved to share my vulnerability with readers who may never have met a Muslim before.

Their responses reassured and comforted me, but the expressions of support didn't always—or even mostly—translate into action on a national scale. Instead, the Muslim community bore the brunt of the fallout of 9/11 for years. The government targeted Muslim communities with surveillance, questioning and confinement. It seemed law enforcement and the media used the label of "terrorism" for heinous crimes only if the perpetrator was Muslim. The number of anti-Muslim hate crime incidents reported to the FBI rose from 28 in 2000 to 481 in 2001— and those are just the official numbers. Countless incidents are never reported to the FBI.

Yet, in those ensuing years, creative work by Muslims also bubbled up in the country. A trio of Muslim comedians—Preacher Moss, Azhar Usman and Azeem Muhammad—launched the "Allah Made Me Funny" comedy tour in 2003. Writer Laila Lalami's debut novel, Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits, was published in 2005. Actor Aasif Mandvi began appearing on The Daily Show in 2006. G.Willow Wilson published her first graphic novel, Cairo, in 2007.

People who had lived as Muslims in America prior to 9/11 became American Muslims, more engaged in its civic, cultural and political institutions. Muslims creatives were reclaiming the narrative and telling our own stories instead of responding to the false dichotomy of victim or villain told about us.

I was among them. Seven years after the attacks, I began lobbying my editors for a features column, a departure from a decade of straight news reporting. I had become a mother with two small children. I was trying to make sense of the confusion and isolation that parenting provokes. My first column in 2008 described a bleak winter day when I was sleep-deprived and frustrated and feeling slightly suffocated by the tight bonds of motherhood.

The author: St. Louis Post-Dispatch syndicated columnist Aisha Sultan. Elizabeth Wisemen

Again, readers in the heartland responded with overwhelming support and commiseration. I wasn't making any overtly political arguments. As readers got to know me, they appreciated the commonalities in our parenting experiences despite our differences. I wasn't trying to be an ambassador or spokeswoman for my faith or an ethnic community. I was sharing my observations and struggles as a suburban, middle class American mom who happened to be Muslim and of Pakistani descent.

An older, childless white man who lives in a conservative exurban county wrote to say I was the only Muslim he knew besides the attackers on 9/11. He said he had changed his perspective on Muslims in America after reading my column for years. We weren't just a faceless enemy to him anymore. He saw me as a person, my humanity very real to him.

We've stayed in touch for more than a decade.

Over time more Americans have become like that reader, increasingly comfortable with the idea and presence of Muslims—as neighbors and even family members. Yet simultaneously, the conservative right turned Islam into an effective political weapon and used it to bludgeon Muslims who have sought greater representation and political power.

These opposing forces once again became evident in the correspondence I got from readers, The tone and tenor changed notably in the summer of 2016 as the political rhetoric of the presidential campaign came to a boiling point. Public writers have always had our share of angry critics. But the criticism I received turned increasingly vitriolic, with a deep undercurrent of anger. People who disagreed with what I'd written weren't merely looking to dissent but to silence me.

Increasingly, pushback was laced with profanity, racial slurs and calls to go back to where I came from. Anonymous writers called me a 'raghead c*nt' and others told me to "get out of America, you towel head bigot b*tch." One reader mailed a handwritten letter after I wrote about talking to my children about the killing of Travyon Martin, the Black teenager fatally shot by a white member of a neighborhood watch patrol in Florida. She said she would make a point of cutting out my column photo from the paper every weekend so she could put it in the toilet and piss on it.

After the 2016 election, the heightened anxiety about personal safety I'd felt right after 9/11 returned, even stronger and lasted for years. It's not hard to understand why. During the period between 2015 and 2016, the number of assaults against Muslims rose significantly, surpassing the aftermath of 9/11, according to a Pew Research Center analysis of hate crimes statistics from the FBI. Over the following years, disinformation and conspiracies began taking hold in America at a level I'd never seen before. White rage was palpable online and eventually, on the streets.

The memories and feelings associated with the events of 9/11 continue to play a role in attitudes toward the American Muslim community in some quarters. Here, the annual 'Tribute in Light' memorial in lower Manhattan near One World Trade Center. Spencer Platt/Getty

And yet during this period, Muslims in America continued to create art and cultural capital at an unprecedented level. Playwright Ayad Akhtar produced his Pultizer-winning play Disgraced. Hasan Minhaj reclaimed the title Patriot Act, launching a show that became a cultural touchpoint for a generation of American Muslims too young to know firsthand how that legislation was wielded against the Muslim community. Ramy Youssef won a Golden Globe, Mahershala Ali won two Oscars and Lena Khan is directing Hollywood films. Models, pundits and Olympic athletes came into the spotlight while wearing a hijab.

At some point, I too decided that whatever the costs of speaking out, far greater was the cost of silence. If someone was going to attack me for speaking out against white supremacists, that was a risk I was willing to take. I couldn't back down from writing about controversial issues that I knew would provoke an angry backlash, even when it felt reader abuse could possibly escalate to violence.

What I've observed and experienced over the past 20 years, as a columnist and as a Muslim, perhaps boils down to this: As the politics of exclusion grow more strident, parts of the culture embrace inclusivity. Each force is a reaction to the other.

Certainly this has happened in my own relationship with readers. Even as the negative emails ramped up in intensity and bile, I still have far more readers who send words of kindness and encouragement than hatred. Many reveal their own secrets and most vulnerable stories.

My goal when I began writing a column was to give a voice to parents struggling to raise kids in this digital, social media saturated age. I hope I've done that but along the way something else important happened: I found my own voice too.

My youngest sister, who was in college when I wrote my first personal story in the aftermath of 9/11, decided to attend law school after she graduated. She eventually ran for state judge in the 113th District in Houston and was elected in 2018 as part of the record-setting number of Muslims who won public office that year.

With the benefit of two decades of hindsight and the insights I've gained from my interaction with readers over the years, I realize I could have given her a better answer when she turned to me as a frightened college student in 2001. I could have reassured her: Yes, there will be other Americans who will stand up for us.

More importantly, we will learn to stand up for ourselves.

— Aisha Sultan is a syndicated columnist based at the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

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skalidra · 4 years

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Just want to start with - I love your fics so much and really look up to you as an author!!! I'm looking for advice. I've started writing batfam stuff, and I've received backlash on even considering writing a jaydick fic, because some people equate it to incest. Do you ever deal with things like that? How do you manage the hurtful comments and negativity?

Honestly? I flip the middle finger and write more aggressively. I am often driven by spite, and I find myself pretty much able to handle whatever comes my way. That said, I actually don't get much that comes my way, and my only guess for why that is, is that I don't... appear harassable, I suppose? I know that sounds silly but antis are honestly just bullies, so if you don't come across as someone who can be bullied into giving up, or you push back and don't offer them any real satisfaction, they tend to leave you be.

When it comes to responding to/dealing with hate, I have some advice, definitely.

1) Block. Block, block, block away. You don't owe these people shit. You don't owe them an argument, or a response, or your time. Delete the ask. Block the sender. Rinse and repeat. Ninety percent of hate messages are just bait. They want to make you feel bad, suck your energy, and waste your time.

I promise, blocking them/deleting them/ignoring them is not a win for them. Just picture their face as they check your blog, again and again, waiting for a reply that's never going to come. Mm. It's a good image.

2) You will feel like you have to defend your ships from these accusations. Don't.

The second that you start defending why your ship isn't X (incest, abusive, pedo, whatever the flavor of the day is), you have automatically lost an argument you probably didn't even realize you were agreeing to have. That argument is: 'X is bad and should not be written, and people who write it are bad.'

By jumping straight to (in this case) 'JayDick isn't incest, here's why', you quietly agree that incest is a bad-wrong, and you're not one of Those People™. I guarantee you, these people are not going to debate in good faith. They came to harass you, so remember how you don't owe these people shit? You don't owe them a reason for why you write what you write, either. You don't have to justify your ship to these people, or prove you have some 'right' to write the topics or ships that you do. This is fanfiction. Anyone can write whatever the fuck they want.

3) If you're getting nasty commentary from people you considered to be friends... Well, maybe reconsider being friends with them, as much as it sucks. If they're really going to turn on you just because you have interest in shipping two entirely fictional characters, whose relationship has been written so many wildly diverse ways in various canons, they're honestly probably not great friends. That sucks, but trust me, there's plenty of other fandom people in the world, and antis are just the vocal minority. Your health and happiness always needs to be your priority.

Good luck, anon. I'm here if you have any other questions, and you can always feel free to message me in private as well.

Have fun, write what you want to write, and to hell with anyone trying to shame you. ('Some people' need to learn to mind their own business and curate their own internet consumption.)

#Asks #Fandom #Anonymous

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gibbering-miasma · 3 years

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I think I know how Warcraft’s casters work

It started with a simple question. Why can mages summon water elementals? It’s a simple question that resulted in me noticing other elements of overlap among the Warcraft casters. Not only can mages summon elementals, but fire mages and destruction warlocks can appear to be the same class at a first look. (Especially if the person doing the looking isn’t very experienced, we all know you, yes you, can easily tell the difference. The point is that two classes that seem to predominantly use fire magic are very similar.) eventually it got to the point where my initial question changed from “why can one class do this thing while another class can’t?” tonly to change again to

“What really is the difference between the casters of Warcraft?”

I want to be transparent here, I have not read Chronicle yet. I have the books (thanks again for that, you know who you are) but I wanted to get this theory properly formed first so i don’t spoil my biases. That leads me to another thing, this is just the theory of a guy who’s spent most of his life on this game who’s noticed a few odd dots and decided to connect them to see what picture they make. Blizzard can disprove this at any time with a word, because in the end, they’re the creators, and I’m just a fan. One last thing, I’m certain that there are some examples or details that i’ll get wrong (not playing the most recent expansions will tend to leave a sample size less than optimal) so if there’s an error that I’ve made, call me out on it. This may be a fan theory, but I want it to make sense.

To answer my previous question (what really makes the difference between Warcraft casters for those of you in the back), I think the primary difference is philosophy, not the type of magic that each class uses. What I mean by this is the general worldview, character traits, and relationship with magic that each class has. Obviously there are going to be outliers, mortals tend to mess with the systems like that, but this should be a good place to begin our analysis. When analyzing the casters, we see four main philosophies develop. I’d argue that those four are the philosophies of the Druid, Mage, Warlock and Shaman. I’ll include the other classes that I believe to best line up with those philosophies. I’ll focus on the primary casters of those philosophies, though I’ll use a few examples from the other classes that are philosophically adjacent.

And just so we’re all on the same page here, I’m assuming that magic is inherently sentient, and the overall type of magic used has no effect on your class. With all that out of the way, let’s begin.

Druid/Priest/Paladin- Philosophy of Faith.

The druid is the only class that willingly enters a state of unconsciousness and allows their magic to work through them, causing metamorphosis in the process. The primary tenets of the druidic philosophy are Faith and Dedication. The druid venerates the Wild much in the same way that a priest or paladin venerates the Light. What all of this means is that the druid views themselves as inferior to the Wild (or whatever source of magic you prefer). Power is attained not through study or ambition, but by submission and faith, resulting in power being granted as a boon. But it’s not all fluffy cats and boomkins for the druid, their submission and faith means that they are not necessarily in control. We clearly see this to be the case with the druids of the pack (and the same case can be made for the druids of the flame, but I’m unsure on whether ragnaros forced the flame druids to do his bidding or if they were just crazy like that). Spouting character traits with no examples won’t do us any good, so let’s rectify that by taking a look at Tyrande Whisperwind, a great example of the philosophy of faith. Yes, Tyrande is a priest, not a druid, but remember that the important thing about the classes is their philosophy, not the type of magic that they use. As a priest, Tyrande answers to the will of Elune, and will prioritize the will of the White Lady over anything else (consider the quote “Only the goddess may forbid me anything” from warcraft 3). Not only that, but Tyrande also becomes the vessel for a portion of Elune’s power during the Horde’s invasion, showing similarity to the powers that druids receive and use from their Wild Gods. The similarity between druids and priests could be a reason why those two classes are the major casters in Night elf society following the War of the Ancients. And before you start denying my claim that priests and druids are basically the same, let me ask you this: If Elune wanted Tyrande to willingly enter an unconscious state in order to become a more capable vessel of Her power, would Tyrande do it? I say that she would, because putting aside your own desires, fears and reservations in order to serve your higher power is the definition of dedication, it is the definition of faith, and it is exactly what makes a druid what they are.

Shaman- Philosophy of Synergy

The shaman’s relationship with their magic is exactly that, a relationship. I get the suspicion that I may have lost a few of you there so I’ll explain. The druid fully submits in order to gain power, whereas classes like the warlock will just take as they see fit. The shaman exists between those two extremes, they work alongside the elements and it is through that cooperation that they grow their abilities. Of course, the shaman also experiences their own fair share of magical difficulties. They are still drawing their power from sentient beings that may not always want to comply with the shaman’s wishes. This leaves the shaman with a difficult situation, especially if their magic rebels during a time where the shaman doesn’t have the means to deal with any of that nonsense. The shaman must cooperate with their magic unless they fall to dark shamanism and force their magic to submit, which is the exact domain of the Warlock.

Warlock/Warrior- Philosophy of Dominion

The warlock does not ask for power, nor does it work alongside their demons for mutual benefit (I mean really, do you think that your minions are there by choice?). I alluded to the warlock’s modus operandi earlier, and now I get to delve deeper. The warlock takes power as they see fit, often draining it straight from their enemies. The warlock will then add that magic into their own reserves, bending the magic to their will and growing in power. A warlock’s magic can be said to be a part of them in a more literal manner than any of the other four casters. This habit of taking power from others is actually quite common in the Warcraft universe, (look at all the Blood elves for instance) but i’ll highlight the 3 biggest examples of the warlock philosophy. Ragnaros the firelord, Garrosh Hellscream and Illidan Stormrage all are well known for having a desire for more power, while also having the ambition and skill to go out and get that power for themselves without having to plead to some other entity for assistance. Ragnaros consumed prince Thunderan, Garrosh merged with the heart of Y'Shaarj, and Illidan consumed the Skull of Gul’dan, and all three established control over their new power, and not the other way around. Just as a shaman who forces the elements to work for them isn’t much of a shaman, a warlock who is controlled by their power isn't much of a warlock.

Mage/Hunter/Rogue/Monk- Philosophy of Discipline

The other casters all have very distinct relationships with their magic. Warlocks must be constantly in control, druids are always trying to appease, and shamans just want everyone to calm down and talk about their feelings. And then we have the mage, who doesn’t have much of a relationship at all. To the mage, magic is a tool, one that should be respected, but a tool nonetheless. Khadgar used the skull of Gul’dan to close the Dark Portal with no negative side effects. Whereas Illidan barely has his hands on the thing for a minute before he’s undergoing radical transformations and sprouting new appendages. When trying to name this section, I had initially selected Mastery as a good means of describing the Mage’s philosophy. Mastery had made sense to me, the mage is the master of their magic, they display control and authority over their power in a way that is distinct from the warlock, and their utilitarian view towards magic separates them from shamans or druids. So why the change? Why does Discipline describe the mage better than Mastery? Because in a world where dragons rearrange continents, the dead walk, and where tyrants exist around every corner, the mortals of Azeroth need someone to keep a clear head when the demons are dead and their power is being divided among the victors. The mage is the embodiment of mortal authority in relation to magic, they lock questionable powers away so that those who would misuse that power could do no harm to innocents. The mage is a Guardian, the kind of person who has no interest in being warped into some sort of magical pawn to a higher power. They put their trust in their skill with their power, not the overall amount of power that they can wield like how a warlock would.

The Hero Classes

If you’ve been keeping track, you may notice that I haven't included two classes, those being the hero classes. The reason I haven’t included them yet is because of the fundamental difference between them and the other classes. A number of people have wondered what exactly makes a hero class, and while I don’t claim to know the exact truth, I think I have an additional pearl to add. Hero classes are a state of being, whereas the base classes are more like a career. If you want to understand a hero class, you have to understand what they are, not who they are. Furthermore, I believe that both the Death Knight and Demon Hunter are adjacent philosophically to two of the other philosophies previously mentioned. This doesn’t mean that Death Knights are automatically really, really edgy druids, just that they’re an offshoot.

Death Knight-Philosophy of Tyranny

Offshoot of the philosophy of Faith

What, did you think I was kidding about DKs being druids? Lets step back and ask the fundamental question: what are Death Knights? Simply put, DKs are dark magic inhabiting and controlling a mortal vessel. Yes, that does sound like something a warlock would do, but remember that it’s magic controlling a mortal, much like what we see with Druids. Plus, saying Death Knights are related to Druids has more panache, so i’m going with that one. To the DK, power is their birthright, and they will take and abuse and consume as they see fit. Nothing is sacred from their will, not the blood in your veins, nor the flesh on your back, nor the final, cold breath you give before you’re raised as an undead servant. The DK does not necessarily take to grow their power, they take to fulfill their desires-which is usually to kill a lot of people.

Demon Hunter- Philosophy of Unity

Offshoot of the philosophy of Synergy

Once again, what are DHs? While DKs are magic possessing and dominating a vessel, the DH is more than that. They are a combination of mortal soul and demon. The DH is the product of a perfect union between two distinct soulstuffs. Now here’s the important thing, I’m trying to distinguish between the Illidari, and the Demon Hunters themselves, which can be hard when you remember that pretty much every Demon Hunter is Illidari. The reason this separation is so important is that the Illidari with their whole “fight fire with fire, we shall take the demons' own magic and use it against them as our own” is a very warlock-ish thing to do. But I’ll maintain that the DHs identity points towards being more closely adjacent to the philosophy of Synergy than Dominion.

So why can mages summon water elementals? Because mages have power, just like anybody else. And power itself doesn’t have much significance, what matters is how you use it.

This has been a somewhat deep dive into the philosophy of Warcraftian magic, with the end goal of gaining a deeper understanding of the various classes, and the characters within the Warcraft universe.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

#wow

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lifeofresulullah · 3 years

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The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): First Migration, the Year of Sorrow, the Splitting of the Moon

Hazrat Umar- the Fortieth Muslim

(6th Year of the Prophethood, month of Dhulhijjah / 616)

The joining of Hazrat Hamzah, an incomparable hero, to the ranks of Muslims and the immigration of a group of Muslims to Abyssinia caused the polytheists of Quraysh to become lost in deep thought. A great worry and fear started to consume their lives.

They all had the same decision set in their minds: to solve the matter regarding Abu Talib’s orphan, Muhammad, once and for all.

The Quraysh organized their talks on this matter at Daru’n Nadwa. After their fiery and intense discussions, Abu Jahl’s proposal was accepted: “to annihilate Muhammad’s body.”

Who could dare to attempt such a fearsome murder? A possible vendetta administered by the Sons of Hashim was also a point of matter to be considered.

Some were even making bold promises. For example, Abu Jahl promised, “Whoever kills Muhammad will receive 100 red and black camels, this much gold, this much silver, etc from me.”

Nobody could find the courage to commit this appalling deed. However, there was someone from among them who did; he was tall, had an imposing build, and never bowed before anyone, He came forward and said, “I will do it.”

At one moment, all eyes turned towards this fearless man, who had come forth. They saw that he was Umar, the Son of Hattab. The Qurayshis were confident that Umar was more than capable; thus, they all said, “Yes, only you can do this. Let us see what you can do!” in unison.

Umar was fixed in his decision: he was going to go straight to Darul Arqam, find our Holy Prophet (PBUH), and execute his decision.

After Umar looked around in a furious manner with his eyes that had become bloodshot red, he went directly towards the Kaaba and circumambulated it. Afterwards, he walked towards Darul Arqam with deep feelings of animosity and aggression.

It was very obvious that he was on a mission to fulfill some goal. On his way, he encountered Hazrat Nuaym bin Abdullah, a relative who had become Muslim but concealed his faith. Hazrati Nuaym could not help asking questions when he noticed the apparent change seen in Hazrat Umar’s attitude: “Where are you going, O Umar?”

Hazrat Umar replied without showing any need to conceal his purpose, “I’m going to eliminate Muhammad, the one who has instilled disunity among the Quraysh!”

Hazrat Nuaym went cold all over upon hearing this dreadful decision and looked for ways to dissuade him from this idea. “By God, you are embarking on a very difficult affair. Muhammad’s companions never leave his side for the slightest moment. It is very difficult to find a way. Let us say that you were able to find a way and killed him. Do you think that the Sons of Abd al-Manaf would allow you to roam freely on the face of the Earth?”

Umar looked at his addressee sternly and asked “Or are you on his side as well?”

However, he received an unexpected answer: “O Umar, forget about me; return to your family and community. Your brother-in-law and uncle’s son, Said bin Zayd and his wife, your sister, Fatima, have submitted to Muhammad’s religion. Go and deal with them first!”

Hazrat Umar was bewildered and worried. He did not want to believe what he had heard. In fact, it looked as if he did not even find the need to investigate. However, he could not overcome the doubts that filled him; he changed his mind halfway down the road and went straight towards his sister’s home.

In the meantime, the altruistic Companion, Habbab bin Arat, was reciting the chapter Taha, which had just been revealed, to Hazrat Said and Hazrat Fatima.

Hazrart Umar heard this sounds when he neared his sister’s home. He furiously knocked on the door once or twice. When no one opened the door, he pushed against the door with his shoulder and rushed into the house with rage.

Hazrat Fatima had understood that the one furiously knocking on her door was her brother Umar; thus, she put away the pages of the Quran while Hazrat Habbab hid in a corner.

Hazrat Umar asked in a tone filled with much displeasure, “What was it that you were reading?”

When his brother-in-law replied with nervousness and worry, “It was nothing, we were just talking among ourselves”, Hazrat Umar’s anger and rage increased thoroughly. He held his brother-in-law, who innocently stood there, by his neck and said, “So that means what I have heard is true; you also converted to Muhammad’s religion, didn’t you?” as he hurled him to the ground. Hazrat Fatima attempted to save her husband. She also found herself on the ground after receiving a harsh punch. Hazrat Fatima understood that there was no point in concealing her faith any longer. She rose to her foot and shouted, “Do whatever you can, Umar! My husband and I are now Muslims. We have testified to Allah and His Messenger (PBUH).” She followed by reciting the Kalima ash-Shahada, the affirmation of faith, and the room instantly rang with the magnificence of this oath.

It was an exemplary and heartbreaking sight. How could someone cruelly hit his sister and leave her drenched in blood for saying, “My Lord is Allah”? What hardened heart would not soften and what conscience would not come to reason in the sight of a person who continues shouting her cause despite being in a welter of blood?

Umar was suddenly taken aback. He felt as if his heart was fluctuating. He could not stand on his feet any longer; thus, he sat down. After thinking deeply for some time, he said, “Bring me what you were reading so that I can see what Muhammad says.”

At first, Hazrat Fatima was hesitant. She was afraid that her brother would attempt to defame the pages of the Holy Quran. However, Umar ceased her worries by saying, “Do not be afraid.”

Yet, she could only give the pages of the Quran to those who were purified and because Umar was still an adherent of polytheism, he was not considered to be spiritually clean.

Therefore, Hazrat Fatima said, “My Brother, you are not considered to be clean because you are an adherent of a faith that associates partners to Allah. Only those who are clean can touch it. Rise and wash yourself.”

Hazrat Umar rose and bathed himself by performing a full ablution (ghsul) over his body. Upon this, Hazrat Fatima took the pages of the Quran with the utmost respect and handed them to him.

Hazrat Umar was a scribe; therefore, he knew how to read and write (not many people during his time had these skills.) He began reading the page he held in his hands from the beginning to its end:

“Ta Ha. We have not sent down the Qur'ân unto you (O Muhammad SAW) to cause you distress, But only as a Reminder to those who fear (Allâh). A revelation from Him Who created the earth and the heavens on high.”

Hazrat Umar both read and reflected upon these verses. He was baffled in the face of the timeless and literary eloquence of the Holy Quran. It was as if he was not the same Umar, who had firmly grasped the handle of his sword, intending to kill our Holy Prophet (PBUH). The insensitivity in his heart and the anger seen on his face had both disappeared. His eyes that had been bloodshot were now gleaming with light. His inner being was smiling along with his face. When he read the verse, ” "Verily I am Allah: there is no god but I: so serve thou Me, (only) and establish regular prayer for celebrating My praise” of the chapter, he shouted: “This is such a beautiful, honorable, and sublime remark! No remark can be sweeter and more beautiful than this!”

This expression was proof that his heart had attained both guidance and luminance.

Hazrat Habbab, who had heard Hazrat Umar’s words, came out from his hiding spot and said, “Glad tidings, O Umar. I hope the prayer that Allah’s Apostle (PBUH) made on your behalf will come true. Last night he prayed, “My Lord, strengthen Islam through either Abu’l-Hakam bin Hisham (Abu Jahl) or Umar bin Hattab.”

Umar bin Hattab and Abu’l-Hakem Amr bin Hisham (Abu Jahl): One of them (Abu Jahl) had proposed for the Master of the Universe (PBUH) to be murdered since that would have been the only way through which the Islamic cause could be hindered, whereas the other, Hazrat Umar, had accepted this proposal and rose to carry out this decision.

The negative perceptions that Hazrat Umar had previously held about Islam and our Holy Prophet (PBUH) had now completely shifted. He wanted to go to our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) presence and feel the warm embrace of his light as soon as possible. He asked, “Where is Allah’s Apostle?”

When he learned that our Holy Prophet (PBUH) was at Darul-Arqam, the outskirts of Mount Safa, he immediately set off on his way with Hazrat Habbab.

A watchman informed our Holy Prophet (PBUH) that Hazrat Umar had come with a sword on his waist. An air of worry and nervousness beset upon everyone with the exception of Hazrat Hamza. This great Islamic hero grasped his sword and said, “Let him come. What is there to be scared of? If he has come with good intentions, then we will welcome him with benevolence. If he has come with bad intentions, then we will dispose of him with his own sword.”

Smiles appeared on the Master of the Universe’s (PBUH) face as he watched the scene before him. He had received news that Umar’s heart had been embraced by the light of guidance. Without getting worried or nervous at all, our Holy Prophet (PBUH) said, “There is nothing to be worried about, let him come. If Allah desires beneficence for him, then He will deliver him in the right direction.”

The door opened upon this command. Umar, who was waiting in front of that door, entered with his imposing appearance and weapon. There was not a trace of anger that could be seen on his face; instead, his face radiated with a glisten of love. His eyes were searching for the light of both truth and reality. At one moment, he came eye-to-eye with our Holy Prophet (PBUH). It was as if he was going to pass out in the face of our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) grandeur. He forgot about everything. Our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) light-filled glances had deeply grasped Hazrat Umar under their influence.

After they looked at one another for some time, our Holy Prophet (PBUH) disrupted Hazrat Umar’s air of nervousness, silence, and worry by asking, “Why did you come, O Hattab’s Son, Umar?” Afterwards, he extended his hand and held his sword by its handle and prayed, “O My Lord, this is Hattab’s Son, Umar. My Lord, strengthen the religion of Islam with Umar, Son of Hattab (Umar bin Hattab).

Hazrat Umar’s soul had given rein to the Sun of Guidance. He answered our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) question by saying, “I have come to testify to Allah and His Apostle and what he has brought.” Afterwards, he recited the Kalima ash-Shahada, the oath of faith, and became a Muslim.

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) and his companions were immensely happy. In unison, they all recited the Takbir loudly: Allahu Akbar… Allahu Akbar! (Allah is Great, Allah is Great!)

These sounds of Takbir that were heard on the streets of Mecca rang in the horizon and from there, rose to the skies as waves filled with light.

Hazrat Umar had become a Muslim, in fact, he became the 40th Muslim. From thereon, his bravery, courage, and strength were no longer in the way of disbelief. He was going to exercise these qualities for the sake of Islam. Umar, who had run forth to kill our Holy Prophet (PBUH) upon the decision of the polytheists, was now like a fan circulating around him. Now that Hazrat Umar had a perpetual power, which resulted from having faith, added to his valor, he would challenge and intimidate the polytheists from thereon. By receiving light and illumination through our Holy Prophet (PBUH), he would be known by the title, “Umar, the Just” in the world history.

Entering Masjid-al-Haram in Ranks

Hazrat Umar, whose real source of courage resided in his faith, could no longer stay put in his place. He asked our Holy Prophet (PBUH), “O Allah’s Apostle, whether we die or live, are we not in the true religion? When our Holy Prophet (PBUH) replied, “Yes, I swear by Allah in whose hand is my soul that you are”, Umar said, “In that case, why do we continue to conceal out faith? I swear by Allah Who has sent you with the religion of truth that I will bravely go to every assembly of polytheism and announce Islam without fear and hesitation.”

Upon this, our Holy Prophet (PBUH) set towards the Kaaba from Daru’l-Arqam, with Hazrat Umar on his right, Hazrat Hamza on his left, and the other companions (sahaba) following them from behind. They entered the Masjid al-Haram with dignified steps.

The polytheists, who were expecting our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) head, were surprised when they saw this sight. They were looking at Hazrat Umar and Hazrat Hamza with scared and nervous glances. They were able to gather their courage and ask, “O Umar, what is behind you? What did you come with?”

Hazrat Umar replied, “I came with La ilaha illalah Muhammadur Rasullulah. Nobody should move from his place or else I will cut his neck.”

The polytheists became silent. It was as if their tongues were tied.

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) circumambulated the Kaaba and prayed freely. The Muslims were also able to pray openly.

Hazrat Umar said,

“It was then that Allah’s Apostle (PBUH) gave me the name, “Faruq” for separating truth and falsehood.”

Hazrat Hamza’s conversion to Islam followed by Hazrat Umar’s ensured Islam’s development, enabled Muslims to worship freely, and saved Muslims from the constraints imposed by the polytheists. In this regard, Hazrat Umar’s joining of ranks with the Muslims held an important place in Islamic history. One of the companions, Hazrat Abdullah bin Masud made note of this importance, “When Umar became a Muslim, it was a conquest for Islam, an honor as well as a glory for the Muslims, His migration to Makkah was a victory, and his Caliphate was a mercy. Until Umar became a Muslim, we could not openly pray in the Kaaba’s courtyard.”

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splendorten · 4 years

Text

In the bleak midwinter

Pairing: Doyoung X Reader (ft. Taeyong)

Genre: 99.9% Angst, 0.1% fluff if you squint really hard

Warning: None

Summary: “You can love someone so much...But you can never love people as much as you can miss them.”

Word count: 2,789

Clad in a simple knee length black dress, the wind blowing through the brown locks of your hair, you stood with arms crossed, tapping your feet impatiently on the grey concrete pavement while waiting for your husband who was running very very late. He could forget dates and anniversaries but not this, he knows how important this is to you, and how badly he’ll screw up if you don’t see him in the next 5 minutes. You tried calling him over and over again, but it always brought you straight to his voice mail. Time passed, his time was up. Not bothering- or wanting to wait any longer for him, you swiftly turned on your heels and entered the memorial hall.

You were lounging on the couch with a pint of double chocolate ice cream in hand when you heard the lock on the front door click. He was home. “Darling I’m home” Usually those words would send you flying into his arms/embrace, but not today, not when you were so close to throttling him. He slowed his steps, his smile wiped off his face when he saw the expression you carried. The aura radiating off you was pure ice cold rage, it was as if he now stood in a minefield while facing off with a coiled wild beast, ready to pounce at any time. One wrong move and he was dead. “Darling, are you okay? Is something wrong?” his soft tentative voice floated towards you as he made his way over. You kept your focus on the TV screen, the programme on air wasn't very much to your taste, but anything to keep your mind off your anger towards Doyoung for now. The couch sank as he took a seat beside you, hand coming to cover your own but you snatched it out from under him like his touch had burned you. You stood up sharply and started to walk off till you heard his voice once more. “Why are you like this? I’ve had such a long day at work and I come home having to deal with your and your little tantrum!” You could hear the anger in his voice build up with every word. Is he for real? This is outrageous! He truly forgot what an important today was for you and he even has the cheek to turn this situation on you?

Angling yourself to face him, you didn’t bother to hide the scalding fire burning in your eyes. “Sure blame me! All you care about is your work, you don’t even know what today is do you? You completely forgot how much today means to me!” Matching up to your level of anger Doyoung strides over to you and shouted back “Haven’t I been coming home early to keep you company? Did I not bring you to Hawaii last week? I need to earn money to provide for us!” Doyoung had never raised his voice at you, never. The hurt and shock was evident in your eyes and you knew he noticed how you took a slight step back because in a flash all those anger and negative emotions vanished from his gaze, those love filled orbs taking over. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-” You had to get out of the house or you might just do something you’ll regret, “It’s my father’s first death anniversary today and you completely forgot!” Without waiting for his response you ran out the house. You didn’t see the way he dropped to his knees and tears streamed down his face, or how his arms tried reaching out to you, and you most certainly didn’t know how his heart broke. It wasn’t within his control, missing such an important date was only the first of many more to come.

That night neither one of you got any sleep, you stayed out till dawn while he sat by the door waiting for you to come home. Praying that you hadn’t abandoned him, especially not when his life was a complete mess.

You eventually went home, sure you could provide for yourself without the aid of your husband, but money wasn’t the issue, you loved him too deeply to be mad at him for long. Yes he hurt you but he is only human, you’ve also made countless mistakes alongside him too. Although both parties were talking and everything was back to normal again, none of you brought up that night because neither knew what to say other than apologise for your actions.

“Darling can you go get my laptop in the room and set it up for movie night? I’m just about done with the food” Doyoung called out to you, who was casually lounging on the living room couch reading - or should you say rereading your all time favorite book. Have a little faith, by Mitch Albom. Being unable to tear your attention from the said book, you merely made a sound of acknowledgement to Doyoung before unfolding your legs and making your way to the master bedroom. “Sheesh watch where you’re going or you’ll end up walking into the wall instead” Without turning around you knew Doyoung’s head was coming out of the little kitchen window to watch your retreating figure, so extended your hand and playfully sent him a vulgar gesture over your head. You had requested the contractor to install that little feature so that you could watch your husband work his magic in the kitchen. You heard him click his tongue at your actions and let your chuckle resonate down the hall.

Once in the room, you begrudgingly set the book down on the nightstand before beginning your hunt for Doyoung’s laptop. Thanks to his very successful career as the CEO of Kim Corporation, your master bedroom is huge - you could have a party of 20 and there’ll still be space to spare - and his laptop could be anywhere in the room. Walking over to the glass desk at the far right hand-side of the room, you spotted what you were looking for under piles and piles of documents. Reaching from the front of the table you tried to carefully pull out the device without messing up his work files, but life never ever goes as planned, and you pull out a few extra stacks of paper. Cursing at your clumsiness, you bent down to clean up the mess you’ve made. For a moment, the sound of rustling paper moving against one another filled the silent room. You were just about to leave after setting the files down on the table when one of them caught your eye, more specifically, one that was labeled “Seoul General Hospital''. Snatching the file off the table, you opened it and glanced at the content inside as dread pooled at the pit of your stomach. You were never really talented at science to begin with so it wasn’t much of a suprise when you couldn’t understand half of what was written on the papers, but 1 phrase and 1 name was all it took for you to figure out what was going on, for your heart to sink.

“Mr Kim Doyoung”

“Memory loss”

Suddenly the memories of Doyoung being forgetful, not remembering the times you've spent together over the past month started to make sense. You knew he was a meticulous and organised person who has a great memory, so the chances of him forgetting events, dates nights were close to being non-existent. "Darling did you find my lapt-" the words died in Doyoung's throat when he saw what you were holding in your hands. His medical report. From his spot by the threshold of the room door, he could see the stiffness creeping into your shoulders as you turned to face him with a mask of deadly calm. Your face contorted from a wave of calm, to anguish, to emptiness and finally rage. You couldn't bring yourself to believe that your husband was slowly losing his memories, all that you've been through together turning into nothing more than a speck of dust. The air was heavy as you contemplated on how you should feel, what your reaction should be. Breakdown and cry at the fact that you're going to have a husband with no memories and who might possibly not even remember who you are, or, rage..rage because he didn't trust you enough to tell you what happened, didn't believe after all that you've been through that you'll stick by him through thick and thin. Choosing the latter option, you stormed up to Doyoung, jaws clenched as you questioned him through gritted teeth "When were you going to tell me about this? Did you even plan on telling me? Your life doesn't just belong to you anymore! You can't be so selfish and keep me in the dark!" Your voice grew louder and louder with each word as tears of frustration streamed down your cheeks, chest heaving. When Doyoung didn’t so much as look at you, let alone answer your question, you raised a fist and brought it down on his chest “answer me! Were you planning to keep me in the dark?” Doyoung caught your fist in his hand and looked down at you with tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he apologised over and over again, pulling you into a tight embrace, holding you so close to him that you knew he wasn’t letting go anytime soon. You’ll figure things out together, you always do.

“When did you know?” you finally asked once the both of you had calmed down. Letting out a breathe he didn’t know he was holding, his reply came out as a mere whisper. “The day of your father’s death anniversary.” That’s why he didn’t show up, and now that you know his reason, you felt terrible for saying all those nasty things to him. He went to the doctors...doctors..right, if anyone they’re the ones who can help Doyoung. “Let’s go to the doctors, they’ll know what to do!” you said pushing away from him to look into his eyes. “It’s no use. I’ve asked. There’s nothing we can do.” Shaking your head in denial you grip onto his dress shirt “there must be someone who can help us. Let’s get you a specialist.” You stood up only to be pulled down again “trust me, whatever you think of I’ve already thought of and tried.” Swallowing hard, you build up the courage to ask “How much time before..before you forget me”

“I will not forget you” Doyoung replied as he scrambled to kneel in front of you, holding your hands in his. Ignoring him, you asked once more. “How much time.” Seeing the look on your face, he knew better than to hide it any longer.

“A few months.”

Leaning on the cold metal railing of your shared apartment, you speedily dialed the number of Taeyong, a close friend of you and Doyoung. After a couple of rings, you hear his sleepy voice come through the speakers.

"Hey, what's up?"

You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, trying to form a proper sentence.

"Is everything okay?" You could hear the ruffling of his sheets as he moved to lean against his headboard. For a moment no words were exchanged, only the sound of both your breathing could be heard as the situation sank in. The news of Doyoung losing his memory hit you like a flood, your emotions were all over the place, and you had no idea how to face this.

"What am I supposed to do" you asked while sliding down the glass panel to the cold ground of your balcony, the ends of your lips pulling up into a sad smile. How can you bear to lose the one person who meant the entire world to you, when your life together was just beginning. “It’s not fair Tae, after all we’ve been through, after all the obstacles that we conquered together. Why this, why take him away from me. Take away my memories too, I can’t bear this pain anymore.” By the time the last words left your lips, tears flowed down your cheeks like an endless river. “I know this is the hardest for you, and no matter what I say nothing will change, but the guys and I will be here together with you. I don’t know what to say to make you feel better and I hate myself for that. Just please, please stop crying. It’s breaking my heart to see my 2 closest friends suffer.” Taeyong’s voice was breaking with every word and you knew that his cheeks were as damp as yours. Gripping your phone tighter, you roughly wiped away your tears with the back of your hand. Regretting what you did or didn’t do these past few years isn’t going to help the situation. “You’re right, I’ve got to be strong for him. He’s going through enough, I just...just wish I can take the pain away, just wish to have more time.” Silence enveloped the both of you, only the sound of passing cars down below playing as a companion to this dark and cold night. “You have work tomorrow, I’m sorry for calling so late. You should go back to sleep, bye Tae.” You didn’t give Taeyong a chance to reply, immediately ending the call. Looking up at the starry night sky, it was as if the stars were mocking you, like a million stars shining high above free of worries, of pain and suffering. Wrapping your arms tighter around yourself, you let the second wave of tears take over. Like the title of your favorite book, you should have a little faith, and hope for a miracle.

Unbeknownst to you, Doyoung was listening in from behind the wall of the hallway. Listening to your every plea to take the pain away, to return everything back to the way it was, to give you the happiness you deserve. Every word broke his heart to more than a million pieces. To see the woman he loved so much suffer because of him was like restraining him and setting his whole body on fire. Doyoung felt like someone had ripped out his heart and stabbed it over and over again, had wrapped their icy cold fingers around his throat cutting off his oxygen supply. He bit down so hard on his clenched fist that it drew blood, and in a feeble attempt to stop the pain he started clawing and pounding his chest. Call it what you will, a mercy maybe, when Doyoung passed out from the overwhelming emotions swirling in his broken heart.

Days passed, weeks passed, you and Doyoung spent almost every waking moment together. Going to places that you guys have wanted to visit since the start of your relationship, spending as much time together as you could before the inevitable happens. Sometimes it could be just as simple as lying in bed tangled up in each other as you talked, feeling the warmth and touch of the other. Savouring the moments.

Today, you had a big day planned for the both of you. Doyoung has always mentioned how he wanted to spend a winter up in the glass igloo resort, and you had called in a few favours to get a booking for the weekend as booking always had to be made months in advance. Looking out the kitchen window as you prepared breakfast, you saw the first snowflake descend. The first snow in years, the both of you love the snow and Doyoung would be so happy knowing that he could play with them up in the resort. Smiling to yourself, you quickly finish cooking breakfast and went to wake your sleeping husband, barely able to contain the excitement of seeing the smile on his face once you broke the news to him.

Sitting down by the edge of the bed, you slowly and softly shook his shoulders, willing him to leave the dreamland. The way he stirred awake was just too cute and you couldn’t resist giving him a peck on the cheeks. However, when his eyes fully opened, you couldn’t help but feel something was wrong. His eyes scanned the room slowly before landing on your figure beside him, he looked confused, lost even. You reached a hand out to hold him, but he flinched and subconsciously moved backward till his back was pressed flush against the headboard. He looked at the room once more before locking eyes with you. That expression...you knew. You covered your mouth as tears streamed down your face, the inevitable has happened.

“Who are you.”

(A/N: Hello, I know I haven’t been writing much lately, terribly sorry for that but life has been getting in the way>< I hope you enjoyed this short piece of work, and if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading! As always feedback is appreciated and feel free to chat me up or leave Asks ^^)

#nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct fanfic #nct doyoung #kim doyoung #nct #nct angst #nct imagines #nct x reader #doyoung scenarios #doyoung fic #doyoung x reader

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ronbegleyformayor · 4 years

Photo

So this is going to be a long post—your question gets to the larger topic that is episode 100. Also to anyone reading this I would appreciate if you took a minute or two to read the whole thing—I purposefully waited a while to respond to this so my response would come across as measured as possible.

So anyone plugged into queer theory and media has probably heard of the term “bury your gays”. It’s a trope that goes at least as far back as lesbian pulp fiction novels from the early 20th century, and for a number of reasons that I’m not remotely qualified to comment on the trope has persisted into modern media. As the name implies, bury your gays is the implicit belief that for a story about gay people to end correctly, usually one or both members of a gay couple are killed before the it ends. Whether intentional or not, the trope is rooted in the idea that gay couples are not supposed to be together, that queer love is a temporary fantasy that must be righted by the end of the story. A weird kind of offshoot of this is the causing of gay characters to suffer through loneliness or separation from a partner, and it comes from the underlying idea that gay=alone. Frequently this manifests in queer characters feeling that they have to choose between family and friends and the “"gay lifestyle”“ when in reality those two things frequently are not mutually exclusive. A subset of this trope is featuring a gay character (or frequently the partner of a more-established gay character) as possessed by some form of “evil” to emphasize which side of the temptation is “correct” and which isn’t.

I’m guessing you can see what I’m teeing up here, so I’ll just add as a caveat that most writers (especially straight writers) do not necessarily agree with the homophobia behind these tropes, nor is it (usually) their intent to perpetuate negative stereotypes about gay people. That being said the legacy of this trope is alive in a lot of media, and intentional or not: gay people suffering is entrenched in how we think about writing them.

Now to be extra clear, I’m not (necessarily) saying this is what King Falls is doing. So far the writing of queer themes and homophobia has been nuanced and has avoided a lot of the pitfalls that have come to be expected, but I would also be lying if I didn’t say episode 100 didn’t rub me the wrong way, and for a couple of specific reasons, too.

For me what that boils down to is characterization and timing.

Let’s talk about characterization first.

Just think about this for a second: what do you know about Jack Wright? No really, can you name anything beyond the bare minimum of characteristics? He’s a journalist and radio host, has a belief in the paranormal, and loves Sammy. He has a sister and a fiancé, has black hair and brown eyes, and plays rugby. I can’t think of a single other concrete fact we’ve learned about him specifically, and being generous like less than half of the things on that list don’t directly have to do with Sammy. Now we could extrapolate bits of his personality based on the two very short clips we’ve ever heard of him and from what’s implied by Sammy and Lily, but that’s also kind of the point: everything we know about Jack Wright is almost exclusively based off his sister and his fiancé, both of whom are anything but unbiased. Did you notice how Lily trashed Sammy and Jack’s radio show in the first King Falls Chronicles but then went on to call Jack smart and prolific in his field like five minutes later? It’s a(n understandable) level of cognitive dissonance for someone who was going through the difficult process of grieving. Both Sammy and Lily are biased sources of information because both care very deeply for Jack. On it’s own that really isn’t a problem—in fact I would say it’s an opportunity for an interesting bit of narrative contrast between the perception of Jack and the reality of when we actually get to meet him.

That at least was my opinion.

Instead we have this ”“dark”“ version of Jack, a lover just out of reach who’s trying to tempt Sammy into leaving his family and friends for the “freedom” of the void. This is a situation that, if I’m being honest, has some homophobic tinges, and hearing the dialogue played out the way it was kind of made my stomach turn (and not in the fun, scared-to-death at 3AM way I’m used to).

Now please don’t misunderstand me. I don’t think this is what the writers were intending, nor do I think that there is anything necessarily wrong with having a normally good character occupy a “bad guy” role. When done correctly it can be interesting and compelling, and help tease out different aspects of a character or relationship dynamic. The issue isn’t that we’re seeing a “bad” version of Jack, the issue is that a. the specific wording of his interaction made my homophobia alarm bells go off, and more critically b. this “bad” version of of Jack is the only true version of him we know. Having him in a “bad” role outside his norm would be interesting if we actually had a real-time, in-person Jack with which to compare him. We might have a constructed idea of who he is from descriptions of biased sources close to him or tapes that are probably a decade old, but we only need to hear from this ”“shadow”“ Jack two more times and it’ll be more times than we’ve heard even recordings of the real Jack.

Emily, for example, had a baseline character established before her abduction. We got to know her as a character before she went missing, so when we eventually saw her as a different version of herself, we had a baseline understanding of how she typically acts in a situation, which is something we just don’t have with Jack.

Also, do you notice how Jack never directly spoke to Lily? He talked about her, but never to her, and can we take a moment to appreciate the gravity of that moment? Jack (or whatever was controlling him) had the opportunity to lure one of the four members of the "named” in the prophecy in the book, and instead of choosing his sister, the person he has known for his entire life and the only flesh and blood family with whom he’s in contact, and he chose to lure Sammy instead, to make Sammy choose between a gay relationship and the support system he’s built up.

Can you understand why this kind of leaves a bad taste in my mouth? It feels a little like the “love the sinner” (Jack), hate the sin (being “bad”, trying to make Sammy have to decide between romance and a family), and that’s an adage that queer people tend to get tired of really quickly.

Again, because I really don’t want to be misunderstood, I don’t think this is what the writers intended; in fact I’m guessing the thought probably never even crossed their minds. But at the end of the day that’s kind of the point: if you’re going to make a show that subverts homophobic tropes (which I will readily say that they have done up until this point), you have to make sure not to accidentally fall into any of them yourself.

This leads me into my other issue with the episode: the timing.

My opinion toward the show right now would be considerably less harsh if this was not the last episode before a hiatus. I’m not saying the show can’t take breaks, but ending after this episode specifically? We are left with a very specific image of who Jack is, and exactly what kind of influence he has on Sammy. We’re left with the impression that Sammy has to choose between his found family and a gay relationship, and just to put icing on the cake we’re being told there is going to be another hiatus, prolonging the suffering of a character who has been through quite a lot already.

If this wasn’t the episode before a hiatus, I wouldn’t be as unhappy because we would have more immediate reactions to what had happened. We would have the four of them discussing it in detail. Maybe we even would have gotten a chance to hear Sammy himself say that this wasn’t Jack, and even get to hear more detail from him about who Jack is, if not what we heard. Maybe we would have actually gotten to see them get a step closer to getting Jack back instead of now knowing that the void has been opened, and we have to wait for another few months to see if the gay characters will ever get something even resembling a happy ending.

But we didn’t get any of that. Instead we got a cold, empty laugh that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since.

This isn’t to say that the show is headed in a bad direction. I think because this was not the intent that there is still plenty potential for things to stay on the rails. But what it looks like from here is that we are just continuing to prolong the suffering of the gay couple that sits at the emotional heart of the show’s main plotline. I’m just getting to a point where I’m starting to lose faith that we will see anything but it.

also huge thanks to @calebmichaels and @deputytroy. a lot of these points were the distillation of conversations between us, and if you think that I made a particularly interesting point at all in this post, it was probably their idea, not mine.

#kfam #king falls am #mine #wow that was a lot #also none of this is specifically directed at the person that sent me the anon #I just used your ask as a jumping-off point

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jonthethinker · 4 years

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Together Or Alone?

Since I finally have a few days off work, I want to get weird and really dig deep into why I personally enjoy the Mighty Nein and its particular breed of found family so much, and why the dynamics between its members are so satisfying for my heart in particular. Let’s get unnecessarily deep, shall we?

You may not completely understand why I think this would be weird, but you’ll understand fairly quickly as I get started.

I’ve been on a sort of spiritual journey, in a way, over the course of this most eventful year. A small part of me feels bad that while so much suffering is going on, and so much of the world feels like it’s falling apart, I’ve been making positive strides in determining my place in the grand scheme of things. But a larger part of me is just really grateful to finally find a bit of internal peace after years of not having it, of finally having some bit of quiet in a mind that’s never been able to still itself long enough for any such thing.

I haven’t exactly found religion, but I have given more shape to how I best want to imagine our universe and my humble place in it, and I’ve finally started asking the right questions.

One of those questions stands above the rest, and it’s the question I’ve decided the Universe Itself is asking; Together or Alone?

I started seeing attempted answers to this question everywhere. In the universe bursting outward, yet huge masses of it clinging together to form all we know and can perceive. I see it in wondrous solar systems forming and spinning in a rippled field of mutually affected gravity; and I see it in the black holes that can form, and tear and pull all that beauty into nothing. I see it in incredible ecosystems where the life and the land combine to form what feels like its own organism, larger than just the sum of its parts; and I see it in the environmental devastation caused by our own actions, killing that organism, and in turn doing irreparable damage to the very spirit of our world.

I see it in humanity’s natural inclination for cooperation and concern for others; and I see it also in our inclination to be blinded by power and in that blindness, inflicting unspeakable harm on each other in order to hold onto that power. I see it in our bodies, organs one by one relying on each other in a perfect act of faith to form something greater than a liver or heart or brain could ever be on their own; and I see it in cancer, single-minded in its pursuit of self-replication by all means, all memory of belonging to something greater stricken from its damaged DNA. I see it in basic elemental particles, most of them ready and able for their eventual combination with other particles to build wonderful compounds with entirely new properties, adding untold dimensions of complexity to how our world works; and I see it in those small rogue particles the neutrinos, that can shoot off from a star for eons without interacting with a single thing.

The question and its many answers, and the dialectical relationships those answers have, are what I feel can really undergird all of our interactions with each other, all progress and all regress, all friendships and all rivalries. It’s there in all our stories and all art we create; Together or Alone? What’s your answer?

For me, the answer that felt like it escaped the singing lips of an angel, was, “Of course, together. Always together.”

It shapes my politics heavily. I’m a lefty, but its not just because I believe we’re all equal as individuals; it’s because I believe we are all a part of the same thing. We are all a part of that same great organism, that same great body. The Universe. God. Whatever you want to call it, though it needs no name. We are in this together because we are one thing from many different things, whether we like it or not.

But I’m not just blindly optimistic about this. I don’t think it works like this all on its own. It takes work and time. It took billions of years for solar systems to form. For single-cell organisms to band together into colonies and then evolve into multi-cell organisms. It took a while longer for creatures to stick together as families, for the mutual dependencies of ecosystems to form, and even longer for the first tribes and societies to form. It took time, and an incredible amount of energy and effort, and so much failure. We’ve hurt each other so much, that’s true. But it’s only by coming together that we’ve ever been able create anything new, anything Good.

The universe has a bias towards entropy; things tend to fall away and apart. So there’s a beauty in the struggle for togetherness. I’d argue that it’s the only source of beauty in the first place; the unity of forces interacting. The quest for togetherness gives my life meaning, drive, and purpose. And for someone who’s struggled with depression for so long, I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to have purpose, especially for something bigger than me.

And by this point, you’re probably wondering when I’m going to stop sermonizing and actually talk about Critical Role. so here we go.

The individual members of the Mighty Nein are some deeply flawed and deeply troubled people, at least when we first met them. Some of them have done awful things, sometimes against their will. They’ve all been the victims of powers much greater than themselves, and as a result, have been left feeling frayed at the edges. They’ve all had hurts and been shaped by those hurts; whether it was loneliness, unfair expectations, or just being unfortunate enough to be different in all the wrong ways. Damaged is a word that carries unfortunate implications, as does broken; but it’s undeniable that you’ve got seven people who have all felt like Sisyphus when the boulder rolls back down the hill.

Some have taken this fate better than others, but it’s undeniable that these people have suffered, and in that suffering, gained nothing.

But then they met each other.

It wasn’t all roses from the get-go. You throw these people with underdeveloped social skills and an untold amounts of personal baggage, and you’ve got yourself some friction to say the least. But when they all met each other, they had nothing but their bodies and their hurts. They were total equals. Even when the Mighty Drei met Caduceus, they had just felt like they lost everything, and they were meeting someone who had no one. They all started together at their foundations, and over time, built something I think is truly beautiful.

This process hasn’t been perfect. Beau, for instance, can still be totally rude and abrasive to strangers and outsiders (and I love that about her), and still has a hard time swallowing her pride long enough to ask for help. Caleb is very much struggling with his trauma, and that path is never a straight line of progress for anyone. Jester for the longest time still didn’t really want to feel any negative emotions around the others, and her own pride has gotten in the way of owning up to how new she is to all this. Yasha bears a great deal of guilt for a great many things, and while she’s making strides, it’s still left its mark on her. Veth has come so far, but doesn’t know how to reconcile the contradictions between the two lives she wants as both a mother and an adventurer. Fjord has a deep desire for answers, answers that may open up a lot of wounds that have started to heal in the Mighty Nein’s care. And Caduceus refuses to share his troubles, his doubts about how much his time with Nein has fundamentally changed him from the boy his family knew all those years ago.

That’s a lot of hurt, and some of it will never go away completely. But it’s like how our bodies have all of these vestigial functions that no longer serve any purpose to it, and make our daily lives in office chairs or standing in one place all day harmful to our health. Or like ancient seas whose waters are long since gone, but have left their undeniable mark in the shapes of canyons and mesas, in the colorful layers of sedimentary rock they leave behind. The past is an unavoidable factor in how everything in the universe gets to take shape, but the present finds a way to adapt. And we people get to choose how to adapt. And the Mighty Nein chose caring about each other as their method of adaptation.

And the thing of it is, I don’t think its just having people finally caring about them that has allowed them to come as far as they have. I think it’s also the act of caring, the act of serving others, considering how the path you wish to take will affect someone else, that has really pushed them to this great place we currently find them in. I truly think there something inside of us that wants to be a part of something bigger than ourselves, and that in the moments we feel emptiest it isn’t because of what we lack on the inside but the connections we lack on the outside, and it’s the systems we inhabit that make us think otherwise. I see this so clearly in the Mighty Nein. If left all on their own, in the cruel worlds we first found them in and have learned they came from, I see seven people going on seven unique paths of self-destruction; but together, they can build something greater than themselves, that thing being the Mighty Nein.

I really do think the Mighty Nein is like its own entity. They are something totally different when they are together, like seven different elements that came together to form a compound with entirely different characteristics. It’s why the work so smoothly together in combat. Why, when the pressure is on, they tend to work as a relatively well-oiled machine. Why they hurt so much less when they are with each other. It’s like up-scaling from an atom to a cell, a cell to an animal, an animal to an ecosystem.

This togetherness is why I love the Nein so damn much. It’s reaffirming at a deep level for me. The story that they are telling, and the one forming without their active intention even being involved, is a wonderful thing. Stories about togetherness are my bread and butter; it’s why I’m a sucker for a good romance or found-family narrative, because I love it when people come together to make something more than them, making one plus one equal three. There’s nothing quite like it. And Critical Role has it in spades.

And it’s not all about the depth of answering some spiritual question. I enjoy the potty humor and the eight people just trying to fuck with each other and make each other laugh. I enjoy the silliness and joy and endless pop culture references. But also the act of eight friends coming together to make a show where they create a beautiful, silly, heartfelt story together has its own sort of spiritual resonance with me.

I also want to establish that I understand that this is a company selling an entertainment experience to me. They aren’t just doing this in the spirit of togetherness, they are doing this to strengthen their careers and incomes. I get that. But in the end, it’s all a part of the dialectic. It’s all motivation for me to continue working towards building a world where people can make wonderful art like this without worrying about building a career out of it or paying the bills. It reminds me of how much work there is to be done, but also of all the work that’s already been done.

Critical Role has its flaws, but it is a wonderful thing and I’m happier everyday I’m reminded it exists. The Mighty Nein are probably my favorite found family ever, and lately, a very powerful affirmation for my own journey. I do wonder if anyone else has had similar experiences, with this artwork or others like it. If so, I’d love for you to share them with me.

#critical role #The Mighty Nein #a bit personal #a bit philosophical #but if you want a deep dive into how someone thinks about things #this might be your jam #long post

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razorblade180 · 4 years

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Shackles pt5: Contact

Ilia:Who are you people?

Captor:I could tell you, but where’s the fun in that? All you need to know is come with us before things get loud.

Ilia:You knew me by name. I’m guessing whatever you want me for isn’t about who happened to the peddler at all. Old grudge perhaps? You know I’ve been absolved from those crimes ri-

Captor:I’ll give you three seconds to comply before the crowd on the main streets of Vacou start panicking from the sound of gunshots. Last thing we would want is people stampeding and trampling each other right? But I suppose you White Fang trash live for that kind of mayhem.

Ilia:.....You have a name?

Captor:Just call me Trigger.

Ilia:Okay Trigger, you and your four friends here are obviously angry and trying to make a point about something. That does not mean things have to get wild. After all ten people in a narrow alleyway sounds horrible.

Trigger:Ten?

A gut feeling told him to look up; it was only half the right move. Sun stood on the edge of the building with his bow staff at the ready. “Made you look.” Two clones and Neptune come rushing in from the alleyo opening. The clones managed to tackled two of the assailants while Neptune shot the third in the back. “What!?” Trigger looked back in front him with Ilia no where in sight. His eyes scanned the immediate area before something barrels passed him and towards the his final teammate. “Damn camouflage!” He raises his gun but Sun comes falling from above and smacks it out of Trigger’s hand. Sun goes for a right hook but it gets blocked and countered with a punch that lands right in the middle of his face. The hit makes him stumble into Ilia and Trigger runs into the crowd.

Sun:Agh! That was a good punch.

Ilia:Are you okay!?

Sun:Never mind me! Who was that!?

Neptune:Who are any of these guys!?

Ilia:*looking around* Your guess is as good as mine....but I’m dying to find out.

Neptune:Sounds like our night is just beginning.

Sun:First things firsts, maybe tie up these guys and put them at our hold hangout spot? These were lightweights but I don’t like the idea of them roaming about. Sage should be enough to handle them.

Ilia:Scarlet could handle these chumps, but you’re right. Neptune make sure these guys don’t go anywhere. Sun...

Sun:Yep. Let’s go see if we can find our new friend.

xxxx

Blake:*peeking over the ledge*

Grimm still swarm the sands and gnaw at the bottom of rock pillar. ‘Still there...’ she moved back to the middle slowly in defeat. Jacquelyn has set up a small fire for warmth while Yang slept far away from both of them with her bag. She wasn’t really in a talking mood; Blake couldn’t help but feel a bit responsible. This was supposed to be a time to reconnect after all yet she let all fly out the window the moment Adam was brought up. ‘Maybe I haven’t changed much after all. Still letting have weight in my life aye Adam?’ She thought while hugging her knees.

Jacquelyn:You know silently being emo doesn’t solve anything right?

Blake:I’m not really in the mood to chat.

Jacquelyn:Why do I have the feeling you never really are?

Blake:......

Jacquelyn:You’re regretting helping me aren’t you? Can’t say I’m surprised. What I can’t figure out is how much of it was before we got ourselves into predicament.

Blake:I’m not the one asking for help and antagonizing those same people.

Jacquelyn:Doubt is a negative emotion too. I bet those grimm are just as hungry for you as they are for your wife over there.

Blake:What? Yang isn’t my wife. I’m not married at all.

Jacquelyn’s eyes went big for a moment. She turned to Yang and could see the glimmer of a ring on her finger. She then turned back around towards Blake who was showing both hands that where indeed free of any ring.

Blake:Told you.

Jacquelyn:But....last time I saw you both-

Blake:Things happen. If I looked left then she’d look right. Not that we had to agree on everything together but some of the choices we- I chose, really upset her. So we took a break, then never stopped taking it.

Jacquelyn:Hmmm sounds like you have a real problem deciding how you’re going to be around people; letting yourself conform to the actions of others. Only thing that makes you is a liar.

Venom dripped from those words unapologetically. Blake hadn’t expected or appreciated it. Her eyes narrowing at Jacquelyn who still stared into the fire.

Blake:I am not a liar and maybe things would be different if you and Adam stop butting into my life. Me helping him save you is one of the main things that split Yang and I up in the first place.

Jacquelyn:Last time I checked, Adam didn’t ask for your help. You chose to run after him and help us escape. Though I can’t imagine why.

Blake:Because I thought he was dead.

Jacquelyn:To me that sounds like you would’ve wanted to fight him, not help. So the million lien questions is what would possess you to do something so crazy?

Blake:For the same reason you have so much faith in him! But frankly Yang might’ve been right. I’m just wasting my time on someone who is too used to hurting people.

Jacquelyn:You don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s different.

Blake: I’ve said those words too you know. It didn’t go well for me either.

Jacquelyn:Sweety, you and I are far from the same.

Blake:And what’s that supposed to mean? *glares*

Jacquelyn:I think that would’ve be clear by now.

Blake:*Stands up* What’s your problem with me? I’m out here risking my neck to help you and-

Jacquelyn:Are you trying to help? Or are you showing pity!? You said it yourself, you doubt that he’s changed and believe I’m making your mistakes when news flash, I’m not dumb enough to not notice how dangerous he was from the beginning!

Blake:No but you’re dumb enough to fall for him!

Jacquelyn:I....I’m not....

Blake:Save it. It’s written all over your face; it’s been on my face. You need to accept that fact you are not thinking straight. That’s just a fact. I know I sound hypocritical but doesn’t make me less right. A piece of me wants to believe that maybe you’re right and he is by some miracle he is the person that I used to know but I won’t let that hope cloud my-

Jacquelyn:He never was that person.

Blake:What....?

Jacquelyn:That’s your problem; what makes us different. He never was that person you thought he was. *stands up* You know why I have a problem with you? It’s because I think you’re selfish; blinder than he was.

Her voice starts to tremble and the fire burns brightly. Slowly she walks towards Blake who’s red in the face from frustration as well.

Jacquelyn:You’ve done nothing but cling to version of him that did not exist in the first place. He didn’t align with your views of a world where people can change and hate can die out so you left him; understandable. What pisses me off is anytime I hear someone utter your name it’s filled with admiration about how devoted you are to your beliefs when you aren’t.

Blake:Who are you to say that? I’ve made significant strides to reach equality. Human and faunus are more united than ever. I’m finally one my way through cutting through the hate peacefully and it’s working! *tearing up* My beliefs run right through my core and I’ve never strayed from it!

Jacquelyn:If that was true then I would’ve never found Adam dying in a river.

Blake:.....

Jacquelyn:High Leader Blake Belladonna, the woman who is always willing to turn the other cheek. Showed mercy to the girl who burned her house and tried killing her parents without a second thought. Yet the moment there isn’t a single witness but her friend, the true test of her beliefs standing in front of her on a ledge, she faulters. Stabbing her former mentor through the chest him and lets him fall. You don’t count that as straying?

Blake:*trembling* Shut up....

Jacquelyn:You’re here right now because you feel guilty, or do you just want me to be wrong? The one person who claims to be succeeding at what you desperately wanted to achieve. You’re a fraud....

Blake:I said shut up!

The cry echoed and startled Yang up. Her eyes scanned quickly, believing they were under attack. All she found was the two girls face to face in front of a dying fire. Still, there was enough light to see the tears running down her teammate’s face.

Yang:Blake?

Blake:You think you have me all figured out don’t you!? Well have no idea how hard it was to make the decisions I did! How much it killed me inside. I hate that how powerless I felt that day but I made a promise to protect Yang and till this I put that vow above my own feelings. So yeah, I compromised my beliefs and drove a blade through Adam. Abandoned my hope of saving him to keep the connection I still had. Not that it didn’t mattered. He lived, and I didn’t have it in me to rid myself of him twice. Not when you’re around trying to tell me that maybe him changing wasn’t as crazy I people thought. The difference being I’m the one actually losing something here if we’re both wrong! Status, trust, friends.....I doubt because I’m scared of losing more than what I’ve already had.

......

Jacquelyn:You think I have nothing to lose if I’m wrong about him? That I’m doing this out of some since of pride or ego? Blake if I’m wrong or he’s dead then......then things are gonna be real hard for me.

Fear starts to creep into her mind and her hand rest on her stomach. Jacquelyn’s eyes start to water as she stares at Blake, anxiously trying to keep calm. Blake’s hardened expression crumbles at the gravity of Jacquelyn’s words and only leaves pure shock in its place.

Blake:Y...you’re preg-

Yang:Hey!

Both of them are taken out of heated exchange as Yang runs up and stands in front of Blake with scarlet eyes.

Yang:Mind telling me why Blakyis crying!? I swear Jacquelyn you have some nerve to go around and picking fights when you’re asking for help. If you gotta problem then we’ll just-

Blake:It’s fine Yang.

Jacquelyn:Huh?

Yang:But you’re crying...

Blake:We, we were just clearing the air. *wipping tears* it’s fine. We are all just a little stressed out for different reasons and I think we just need a minute. So why don’t we all just give each other some space. The grimm are still around and I think we all need a little more rest. Right Jacquelyn?

Jacquelyn:....Right.

Yang:Weren’t you the one pushing us to hurry up before?

Jacquelyn:I-

Blake:Give her break. She’s......she’s been through a lot. We all are.

Blake doesn’t even wait for an answer before walking as far as she can from them and laying down. Yang simply looks at Jacquelyn irritated before going back th we bag and taking watch. Jacquelyn found herself still standing and holding back a wave of different emotions that threaten to make her burst into tears. She had went a little too far. Yang chastising her about her attitude was true; even it hurt to admit it.

xxxx

Blake’s eyes might have been closed but sleep was far out of reach. It had to have been at least two hours by now but still her thoughts plagued her. She just needed a moment for everything to stop. To have a single piece of clarity. It never came. Instead, a faint voice reached her. One so tiny that no doubt she only heard it because of cat ears. “Thank you, for keeping quiet...” it said meekly. She opened her eyes and Jacquelyn hadn’t moved from that spot. Her hands covered her mouth to chock back sobs and tears ran freely. She looked so frail. So.....defeated. Blake was still a bit furious but seeing this sight was not something she wanted. Her eyes darted towards Yang who was still scouting the area. Blake quietly got up and made her way back over to Jacquelyn. The closer she got the more she realized just how exhausted the girl looked. It was almost had bad as yesterday. Finally Blake was face to face with her again. Slowly she put her arms Jacquelyn and whatever willpower the maiden had left began to vanish as she dropped both of them down to their needs. Her grip on Blake absolute.

Blake:Does Adam know?

Jacquelyn:I never got the chance to tell him. I genuinely have no clue on what happened. Blake, what if....he did find out?

Blake:Adam....is a lot of things. He’s done unspeakable things. Yet, I find it hard to believe a man who’s number one gripe is people leaving abruptly would casually do it. But maybe that’s wishful thinking on my part.

Jacquelyn:I could really use some of that?

Blake:Jacquelyn you...you really are in love with him, aren’t you?

Jacquelyn:.......Crazy right? You would think I know better right? After learning about what happened to you. I told myself to keep him at arm’s length. My only goal was to see if maybe I could my experiences and show him that life doesn’t have to only be hatred.

Blake:Your experiences. You mean how you got your powers?

Jacquelyn:I didn’t tell you the whole thing. One day when I was older I went back and saw how my dad moved on. Another wife, kids, everything. The village acted like it never stole my mother from me and crushed my hands. So I....you know. Lashed out.

Blake:*eyes widened* Everyone? Jacquelyn that’s-

Jacquelyn:Fucked up? Believe me, it still makes me sick. I’ve only taken one other life since that day but I make it a point to refrain from resorting to drastic actions. I was trying to teach Adam that; it’s all I wanted. At first anyways. I don’t have to tell you what happens when you spend day after day opening up to someone.

Blake:*looks at Yang* Walls crumble; you get attached. A few people have done that actually. No matter how hard I try to keep them out. Things always get a little intimate.

Jacquelyn:I’m no exception apparently, but I’m not the only one. I know you might not believe me but he’s changing. I have to believe that.

Blake:......

Blake:You said the two of us aren’t the same. That there was difference that I failed to see. What is it.

Jacquelyn:*wipping her face* You saw him as a man fighting his demons. I looked upon a beast that only knew how to thrive off them. The worst of him was where I started and I never turned away from it. You’re clinging to what you saw, I’m searching for what’s there.

Blake:And...what do you think you’ll find.

Jacquelyn:A better man...

xxxx

“GAAHHH~”

“Oh come on. Ahahaha! Is that all the great Adam Taurus can take!? I’m disappointed!” A gaurd brandished his bloody knife in front of the restrained man before placing it at is left torso. Slowly the gaurd glided the blade across Adam’s flesh until it reached is ribs.

“Aaaaahhhh! Huuuu. Huuuu. That....that all you... got?” He could barely hold his head up. Two hours of public torture will do that to a person. Another gaurd pistol whipped his face while a third swung his boot into Adam’s already bruised ribs. He’d scream if there was any air left in his lungs.

Most prisoners partook in his torture in some shape or form. Slander, laughter, the occasional rock never seemed to miss. Sure it was a hellish experience, but hey, so was most of his life. The first gaurd yanked his head up by his hair and spat right in his face. “Tell me, how does feel to be hated by not just your own kind, but also your own people? I’m sure they’re dying to know.”

Adam:Pr-cough! Probably...not as...bad as your position. Heheheh.....

Gaurd:What was that....?

Adam:I’m saying....at least they liked me for a time. You though, man I bet they love to get there hands on someone they hated from the start heheheh..... I know I would......

Gaurd:Still a funny guy huh? Let’s see for how long. *cocks gun*

Sobek:Gentlemen, what have I told you?

Everyone’s gaze was diverted to the lab door where Sobek stood. His right hand holding to Jasmine’s wrist while the left held another girl with horns, but that girl...she was different from Jasmine. Her eyes were glazed over and she looked almost entirely limp. Like if Sobek was holding a doll. Adam watched Sobek release her and the child immediately fell on the ground.

“Noooo!” An older man with similar features to the girl screamed while quickly running to her. He held her tightly as he wept. Adam could tell she was alive, if you could even call whatever condition she was in living. Jasmine was doing better than the other girl, but just barely. The child’s eyes were still alert and pacing back in forth. Her body however, it looked weak and her clothes were drenched with hopefully sweat or water from what Adam saw. Yet she wasn’t limp. Strangely enough, the girl only looked tired and in visible pain. Her brother stood up and ran to her before a glare from Sobek stopped him dead in his tracks.

Adam:(The feisty one is still kicking huh?)

Sobek:Going overboard makes you no different from a monster like him. Wouldn’t want him going into shock on us either. You’ve had your for fun, now clean up the mess. Including his wounds; infection is a dreadful thing.

Rajah:Jasmine?

Jasmine:......

Rajah:Jasmine, s...say something.

Jasmine:D...do you.... have any bread?

Rajah:Sigh....you’re still okay.

Sobek:Of course she is. Unlike my men I know moderation. Now, you better do a good job keeping her out of trouble. My leniency only extends so far. Next time.... I might have to be more....assertive.

His finger runs across her tiger ears and causes her to flinch. Feisty or not, the girl displayed a deep fear and panic from his touch. It almost looked like she wants to cry. “We wouldn’t want that now would we,”

“N...no sir..” Both children said right after another. The man finally let go of her. All she can manage was a few steps towards her brother before collapsing into his arms tired and shaking. Sobek walks to the elevated platform Adam resides on.

Rajah:Jasmine? Hey are you okay!?

Jasmine:Please...my head hurts. Everything is so....blurry.

Rajah:(She’s burning up!)

Rajah:Jasmine!!!

Sobek:Enjoying your stay A-

Adam:Give that girl water and some ice.

Sobek:Pardon me?

Adam:You talk restraint but I can tell from here she’s coming down with a fever. Looks like one bad one might snuff her out.

Rajah:Come on, please stay awake. Please, she needs water!

Jasmine:......

Sobek:I think yours delirious. Prisoners don’t make demands. Maybe if they-

Adam:Shut your face and give the girl my rations already? Children are dying. That goes against your method right? Unless that never mattered to begin with?

Silently the room judged their hear captor. He could feel the eyes on him relentlessly before caving in and giving a hand signal that told the gaurds to not just give her water, but everyone. Except Adam of course. Sobek was displeased by being called out into question like that.

Sobek:On second thought, rough him up a little more. Within an inch of his life preferably. Since he wants to act high and mighty. He needs a humbling experience.

Adam:You don’t scare me.

Sobek:A foolish decision really.

Adam:Keep telling yourself that. Remember you’re dealing with someone your own size now.*stands up* So be careful not to slip up....

“Or this monster might wrip your scrawny throat out and watch you bleed out.” His words held a weight to it; a level of insanity. Adam stared the reptile faunus down and never blinked. Something had his blood boiling and he couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was the environment, or the circumstances around it. All he knew was he was used to things feeling like hell, and just because it’s been a while does not me he forgot how the game is played. First rule, never break in front of them.

Sobek quietly walked around him and back to whatever private room there was in the awful place. More gaurds soon approached Adam; fully ready to follow through on their orders. He did not care. Before he was surrounded however, he noticed the girl was still conscious and staring at him. All he did was nod at her before the gaurds went to town on him. It wasn’t going to be pretty, yet Jasmine never stopped glancing at him. Trying too see what exactly made him different from the rest; lethal like a weapon. She drink his share of water.

Jasmine:(Hmph, so maybe he’s a little tough.)

Part 4

#rwby #rwby shackles #rwby au #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #jacquelyn frost #adam taurus #sun wukong #neptune vasilias #ilia amitola #bumbleby #sort of?

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vithyahairandmakeup · 5 years

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My walk with God

I was 6 years old when my sister burst into tears whilst watching TV one day. I comforted her and asked her what was wrong, and she just continued to cry uncontrollably. I remember getting scared. I was in charge of baby sitting her, and both my parents were at work. Her crying response was “ I do not want to die when I am older”. I was confused. I did not know how to respond to her. I was 6 years old and had no idea what death even meant. All I remember doing was look up at the ceiling and pray to God and ask him to keep my sister alive forever.

I don’t know why at that age I thought God was a male, or why I even thought there was a God at all, because my mother wasn’t very religious, my father does not believe in God to this day, and I have no idea who told me about God and who he is. All I remember from that age is that I used to lie in my bunk bed and stare at the ceiling whilst everyone was asleep and just speak to God. I would have a conversation with him whenever I had the chance. Literally talk to him and give pause as if he was replying to me.

I am 35 years old now, and I still have that conversation with God.

I had a rough teenage patch. I was going through depression and only found out in my early twenties that I was even depressed back then. So as a teenager I had no idea what was going on in my head; why I was sad, or why I would cry randomly. I felt so alone all the time, and so disconnected to the outside world. The only comfort I had was talking to God. However, as I was getting older and my life became more complicated and I was exposed to all the things a teenager naturally goes through, I would blame him, I would blame him for my life and all the negativity in it. I was 14 when I stopped talking to God. I remember I was 18 when I took an overdose and was taken into hospital. I think it was the first time in 4 years I actually talked to him again. I did not ask for forgiveness, I was simply angry and asked him why he kept me alive and why my suicide attempt was a fail!It just got worse from there.

I was born into a Hindu family and raised Hindu. My Dad has 12 siblings, and my mum 7. No one had ever married into another religion. My mum eventually tried to get me to practise their religion, but I kept rebelling and asking a million questions that no one seemed to have an answer to. I was a very angry teenager with a lot of problems I couldn’t share with my family. I tried very hard to be obedient and to allow myself to find discipline and consistency with what my Mum would teach me, but it really did not seem to work for me. Please understand that this is in no way me trying to shame any religion at all. I think religion can be a very beautiful thing and really help shape someone to be a better person. I respect every religion out there. I just think religion is very personal, and one should choose to be who they want to be and practise the teachings that corresponds to them.

I found that in Christianity. I was 25 years old when I converted. Exactly 10 years ago this month. No one came to my baptism, and no one listened to my testimonial. My family and friends did not approve and did not want to attend. But it did not discourage me, as it was a choice I had made for myself, and it was one of the best decisions I had made in my life.

How did it happen? I was at the peak of my depression. I had started therapy after cutting my wrist. I was lost, in a toxic relationship, had no support from my family, and had very selfish friends who kept sucking the soul out of me. I was doing bad academically, and I had no motivation or aspiration towards anything in my life. I was comfort eating and had put on so much weight I would not leave the house because I had no clothes that fit me. And just like that I had someone put a flyer through our letterbox. I don’t usually receive mail, but I happened to walk down the stairs at that particular moment, and picked up the leaflet. It was a flyer about an art exhibition happening in the month of April. I like Art, and I just figured why not go and get my mind off things. I remember it was a Sunday and I walked to the address that was on the flyer. It did mention it was happening at a church, but I had assumed it would be an exhibition in another building. The walk took about 15 minutes, and just when I was entering the road that was tucked away ever so slightly, I saw this beautiful old church that was heaving with people. I immediately felt self conscious and nearly turned around to go back home. I still pushed myself to walk up the stairs to see that to my right there was the art exhibition, and to my left was the entrance to the church and it was packed with a lot of people standing and singing and cheering. I actually decided to turn left and sit in the back just out of curiosity. I immediately found out that it was Easter Sunday, and that entire service actually changed my life! After a year of attending Sunday services, Bible study every Thursdays, and completely studying the Bible inside out, I made the decision to convert. I became a better person, I became more compassionate, I started loving life more. It took a long time, but with the help of religion, discipline, and a lot of love from God I stopped taking my medication and ended my long bad journey of depression in 2013. I do not remember the last time I went to a Sunday Service to be honest, it has been many years. Maybe over 5 years now. But I realised that religion helped me get out of my bad mental state; having the rules, the guidelines, the order, actually helped me get onto a good and straight path. I realised I didn’t need to continue to attend a Service to keep my relationship to God, but instead pray wherever I am in the world and just speak to him and let him guide me and help me.

Looking at my life right now, I am genuinely very happy and content, because I have learned to listen to God, not just shout, cry, and ask him for things, but listen to him. Listening to what he thinks is best for me, listening to him guiding me, and thanking him every day for what I have and who I am.

Whatever religion you are, or whether you choose not to practise, just respect it and show the same respect to others. Faith and belief is a personal journey, so do not disrespect or insult another for believing something you don’t. You may even find flaws with the way I practise my religion, or have an opinion about this entire blog, but all I wanted to do was share my journey and give thanks to God for the world to read. I may be the lousiest christian out there, but what is more important to me is my relationship to God, and no one can ever take that away from me.

I am where I am because of God. I truly believe that. And I hope you have a beautiful walk with God too. If you do not believe in him, that is fine too, just be a good person.

It took a lot for me to share this, and being a Christian is something my family still do not approve of nor accept even after 10 years, so please be kind. This blog is not about religion in particular, it is about my walk with God.

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alltheangstmygifttoyou · 4 years

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Gift Giving

A/N: This is the final part of the Learn To Be Prequel! It is from Jester’s perspective and is the end to her first attempt at rebellion. Poor Jester.

Summery: The day after the attack of the section fifteen girls dormitory Jester goes to the breakfast table to give Jackson his card.

Word Count: 2383

TW: mentioned death, mentioned child abuse, mentioned violence

Jester was exhausted the next morning after the death in the dorm incident. Those who made it out of the dorm unharmed were led to sit in the commons and wait. It was early morning, about two hours before breakfast when they were allowed back into the dorm. Jester hadn’t slept at all in the commons, too many thoughts running through her mind. Why had those older students broke in and yelled at June? Why had it escalated? What would happen now?

All those questions wouldn’t leave Jester alone, and going back to the dormitory didn’t help the matter. There were new cracks in the wall. Half of the light bulbs were missing, stray pieces of broken glass were still stuck in the floor, and blood stained the blue carpet. Some of the younger students complained to the teacher leading them, Jester didn’t know the woman's name but her thick waist braided hair was hard to miss along with how tall she was. The teacher just told them to take it up with the principle and walked out. It was silent in the dorm, and slowly, starting with the older girls, they all began to leave towards their rooms. Jester went back to her room quickly realizing that this wasn’t the first serious fight to go down in the dorms, and she doubted it would be the last in her years there.

Jester ignored how empty her room felt and put on her makeup. The dark circles under her eyes were getting worse and required multiple layers of foundation. She had planned on looking extra nice today but instead of her usual purple and green look she put on a black dress. Whatever happened to June wouldn’t be good. Maybe June might not be the one who died but she was the one attacked and punished. For all Jester knew June was dead by now. Her eyes ached but she never let them stay closed long. It took an entire hour to put on all of her make up and get dressed. That left her an hour alone. She went through her bag and found some notebook paper. It was a good of time as any to prepare the beginning of a letter to Father explaining the events that had transpired. She’d still need to add a list of powers later, death wasn’t an excuse to not work.

Trying to make sure that everything about the letter was perfect in its wording, diction, grammar, and spelling took the last hour she had. It was mentally taxing writing to Father, and perhaps wasn’t the best thing to do early in the morning after getting no sleep. It was more straining than usual to keep a straight posture. Nevertheless she grabbed the card for Jackson and headed out to the breakfast hall. She could grab her bag afterwards before English. The walk to the main hall wasn’t as loud as it normally was. There was an invisible line between the section fifteen hall and the others now, and no one wanted to be seen on the fifteen side. The other girls leaving the fifteen side kept their heads down and sped walk, but Jester stayed in the middle, not particularly caring if people noticed her, it was good if they did. Her face should be known around the school. However once she crossed the line it was definitely more crowded in the hall but just as quiet. People weren’t playing around with their friends, but huddled around whispering. News traveled fast, and with many of the students having broken in escaping the section fifteen dormitory first, they probably spread their version of the events to the other sections. People stared, but it wasn’t with interest, it was with fear. The eyes were making her skin burn, but she wouldn’t hide.

Once she was finally in the large hall it was still quieter than normal, instead of making her ears feel like bleeding she could only imagine the hearing damage being caused. Jester made her way to Jesse’s table only to be met with an unhappy sight. Milly was crying into Jackson’s shoulder, who was rubbing her back. As Jester approached the table all of the boy's eyes turned to her. They didn’t say anything when she sat down, she didn’t say anything out loud but motioned her head towards Milly.

“The girl your roommate killed last night was her friend,” Jesse snapped, his glare felt like a slap to the face. Jester’s grip on Jackson’s card tightened. Ren scooted away from Jesse a bit, only to scoot back realizing it made him closer to Jester. Apparently Jester was scarier than an angry Jesse.

“Last night was hard indeed,” Jester provided, trying to keep things neutral. There was no reason to start an argument. Jesse breathed out quick and fast as if he were a fire breathing dragon.

“That’s all you have to say? Your friend killed someone last night! The least you could do is apologize,” Jesse ranted and Jester struggled to keep her face blank. There was nothing for her to apologize for, they weren’t there, they didn’t know. Even Jester didn’t know the full story, but she saw a lot of it first hand.

“I’m sorry Milly lost a friend,” Jester couldn’t make her voice sound soft, but at least she didn’t seem too angry. However, Jackson frowned at her for it.

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” Jackson practically spat at her and pulled his sister closer. Jester felt her heart clench and her face fell for a moment, but only a moment.

“I did mean it, I’m sorry,” Jester tried again. She did feel bad for Milly, but it was hard for her to sound sympathetic while being attacked.

“Stop lying,” Jesse spat and Jester let her confusion show on her face. “People have been talking about it, you know, they say a purple haired girl was behind the murderer,” Jesse went on his face twisting into a grimace. Ren nodded next to him. Jackson’s head snapped over to her and the feel of eyes once again burned. It made her want to scratch her skin off.

“I didn’t know--” Jester began but Jesse’s scoff interrupted her. She didn’t understand when Jesse had become so hostile towards her.

“How could you not know what happened, but everyone one else did? Don’t pretend you’re stupid.” Jesse went on and Jester could feel anger beating through her skull, pushing her to react. In the back of her mind she wondered if the pressuring emotion was Jesse’s doing, and if it was on purpose or not.

“It was dark, I went towards my friend,” Jester gritted out, trying not to give away how much he was affecting her.

“Of course it was your friend that killed someone.” Jesse snapped back rolling his eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jester asked, blinking away the sting in her eyes. Ren had made himself as small as possible as he cowered between them. Milly wasn’t crying anymore, but she was whispering to Jackson.

“Of course the only friend you have on your own is a murderer, you’re a perfect fit!” Jesse went on, his fists clenched, shaking on the table. Jester’s heart ached and she wanted to run away, to escape every blow being dealt after such a terrible night. But Quinn’s don’t hide, and at least these wounds didn’t leave marks to cover with makeup. She took a deep breath and once again forced her face to relax. The tense silence was the loudest thing in the room to her but she ignored it.

“This isn’t about me, it has nothing to do with me.” She finally breathed out. They were all looking at her, they wouldn’t stop. This should be about Milly, comforting her loss. Yet their eyes burned into Jester.

“But it does, you were there. You’re still calling a murderer your friend, you didn’t do anything to stop her, or keep her from running away.” Milly spoke up, voice deeper from a sore throat. Jester sucked in a breath as quietly as she could trying to will away the sudden nausea that comment brought. It was becoming clear that everyone here really was blaming this on her, as if she had something to do with what happened. Jesse and Ren had made it clear they were uncomfortable with Jester sitting with them from the beginning, that’s why she only sat there for one meal. She had thought Milly was just shy towards her, or didn’t really have much of an opinion about her, but it was clear now that her opinion was negative. There was no way she was going to get to stay. She looked to Jackson to see if her only real friend here had any faith for her but his face was dark and his mouth drawn in a thin line. Jester looked down to the card in her lap.

“Please, understand, it was dark, people were pushing and shoving and it’s dangerous to be in a mob of people, so I looked for a way out, and I saw my- my roommate out in the open with strangers a bit away so I-” Jester tried to explain but they all seemed insistent on not letting her finish her sentences today.

“Strangers? They were some of the most well known students around, they helped all the younger students find their way around. Everyone knows them, and Tracy was the nicest of them all! She didn’t deserve to die because your roommate was jealous of this.” Milly argued, putting her palms on the table. Jester wanted to scream, she had no idea what story they had been fed but she had no idea how June was made the instigator when the others were the ones who broke into their dorm. But, she couldn’t argue, that would make them angrier, and she could lose Jackson.

“I’m sorry, but I had never met them. June was the one to show me around. I went behind her to ask what happened, she didn’t explain. She was holding her right arm so I asked what was wrong but she didn’t tell me. People were surrounding the body and once they moved girls began panicking and some people lost control of their powers. June refused to leave and told me to get out of the dorm, so I did.” Jester finished, trying to make Jackson understand she was telling the truth with her eyes.

“So you ran like a coward.” Jackson stated and Jester felt herself tear the card. She looked down and was glad to see that she hadn’t destroyed it completely. Her face burned, her stomach burned, and her head pulsed in waves.

“What exactly was I supposed to do in that situation?” Her voice had gone cold but she was finding it easier to smile. She saw Ren scoot away again.

“You could have tried to get answers from June, or gone to help the person on the ground, you cou-” Jester took satisfaction in interrupting her brother.

“Oh yes Jesse, you’re right. When shadows are coming to life and slamming people into the walls and the floor is catching fire the first thing that you do is go closer to it! When you see someone lying on the floor, blood coming out of every orifice as older students run from them you go towards that body. The only reason that I got out of the dormitory unharmed was because I went towards June and left when she told me to!” Jester huffed out glaring at her brother.

“Well you could have used your powers! You could have summoned help!” Jesse argued back and Jester barked out a laugh.

“I can’t do that Jesse! I can’t just make helpful things- I bring fears to life. You really think summoning a bunch of random strangers' fears would have helped the situation?” Jester couldn’t believe she had to be explaining this to him. He had been the main subject to her powers, he knew what came out of them wasn’t nice.

“Well you could have tried! But just like the placement test you didn’t. You just caused problems.” Jesse went on his eyes hard as he looked away. It finally clicked that the placement test must have been what he was so upset about. She sighed loudly, not bothering to hide her frustration.

“I told you why I didn’t take it. My powers are dangerous, I was just trying to keep people safe,” it wasn’t a complete lie. She had wanted to keep people safe by not being her Father’s pawn.

“Well you didn’t. Someone still died and you did nothing except ask about the health of the killer. Jesse has been telling me this entire time that you were using me, but I didn’t believe him. But now, you saw someone die but you’re barely affected. You’re just defending yourself from blame. If you were normal you would feel guilty. Ren was right about you, you’re a freak.” Jackson spoke quietly and his voice wavered as he spoke. He looked at Jester like she was the scum of the Earth. It felt like her heart was being pricked by a thousand needles at once and she felt the tears building. She crumpled the card in her hand and slammed it on the table. She gave a smile and felt her body still as she focused in on what she knew how to do, put the pain in a box and make the other side pleased.

“Well. I can tell when I’m not wanted. Just remember Jackson that the Quinn family will always be there for you,” she didn’t mind that her comment felt more like a threat than a reassurance. Their eyes burned her skin as she walked away, but the rest of her body was ice cold so it was nice. When people whispered around her through the hall she smiled wider and watched as they turned away. Father always talked about the power of fear, and Jester thought she was beginning to understand it. She would write on it later. Once she was back in her room she allowed the smile to fall and she silently sobbed in her lonely room.

#learn to be #writeblr #original fiction #tw death #tw mentioned violence #TW Mentioned Child Abuse

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whitherliliesbloom · 5 years

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Illya’s Never-Ending Survey

Rules: Repost, do not reblog

Tagging: I’m sure most people have already done this so I’ll just tag those I know haven’t yet @ofthesilverlining , @windup-dragoon , @theadventuresofshuri and anyone else who hasn’t done this but wants to.

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Illya Skawi

NICKNAME: Magus of the white (by another OC of mine)

AGE: 19

BIRTHDAY: 31st Sun of the 6th Umbral Moon (31st December)

ETHNIC GROUP: Lalafell / Dunesfolk (Has a hint of hyur from her father)

NATIONALITY: Unknown. She comes from a rural countryside outside Eorzea

LANGUAGE/S: English

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Taken by Alphinaud in the main canon, supposedly single in other AUs.

HOME TOWN / AREA: Black Shroud

CURRENT HOME: Lavender Beds.

PROFESSION: Glorified errand girl, Adventurer, Medic

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Pure white, usually straight with bangs

EYES: Round and Violet

FACE: Soft, slightly rounded

LIPS: Pale, thin

COMPLEXION: Fair skinned, smooth

BLEMISHES: None

SCARS: Scars littering a good portion of her torso

TATTOOS: None

HEIGHT: 2′9′’

WEIGHT: 43 ponze

BUILD: Short, neither chubby nor very slender by lala standards, average

FEATURES: Glossy eyes, button nose, white hair that almost reflects the sun

ALLERGIES: None

USUAL HAIR STYLE: Usually loose with minimal styling, bangs just above her eyes and a white hair band

USUAL FACE LOOK: No make up

USUAL CLOTHING: Robes, Warm clothing, Armor suitable for whatever class she is, occasionally wears glasses. She’s not picky with her fashion at all.

VOICE CLAIM: Japanese voice: Hanazawa Kana. Something similar to her voice for Nadeko, Kanade and Shiori. English voice: Not a fixed voice actor but her in-game voice is this, which I think is pretty accurate to how she’d sound in English.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Failure, Being abandoned, Polar Bears

ASPIRATION/S: Acquisition of all the knowledge and skills she can, To finally be someone who is of use to others

POSITIVE TRAITS: Kind, open-minded, intelligent, curious, hard-working, loyal, cooperative, empathetic, observant, patient

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Pessimistic, shy, anxious, cowardly, emotionally fragile, envious, weak, passive, dependent, insecure

TEMPERAMENT: Melancholic MBTI: INFJ / ISFJ (she kind of tip-toes between both)

SOUL TYPE/S: The Scholar / Server

ANIMALS: Dwarf rabbit

VICE HABIT/S: Hiding her face when she gets emotional, Twiddling her fingers together, Avoiding eye contact

FAITH: None

GHOSTS?: Debatable. She wonders if they are that different from voidsents

AFTERLIFE?: Probably

REINCARNATION?: Possible, but unsure ALIENS?: No

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: None

EDUCATION LEVEL: Basic education

FAMILY.

FATHER : Lachlan Skawi, Midlander Adventurer, alive and active. A friendly, witty and adventurous man who can never stay in one place for too long. His sense of humor and persistence eventually causes a reclusive lalafellin farmer to open up her heart to him.

MOTHERS : Cocona Coruna, Half Dunesfolk Half Plainsfolk, alive and active. A stern, sharp-tongued but dedicated farmer who provides the strange adventurer shelter in her home after his journey by ship gets interrupted by a band of pirates wrecking the boat.

SIBLINGS : None

EXTENDED FAMILY: None

NAME MEANING/S: None

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: None

FAVORITES.

BOOK: I have no idea but she loves reading a lot

DEITY: Nophica

HOLIDAY: Little Ladies’ Day

MONTH: Second Umbral Moon. Usually when spring starts

SEASON: Spring

PLACE: Anywhere with lots of flowers. She’s understandably starstruck when she first visit Il Mheg

WEATHER: Clear skies

SOUND / S: Leaves rustling, Gentle breeze, Insects chirping, windchimes

SCENT / S: Anything floral, Freshly baked bread, Herbs

TASTE / S: SPICY, Fruits

FEEL / S: Texture of cotton or wool, warm blankets

ANIMAL / S: No real preference but probably birds

NUMBER: None

COLORS: Blue, purple

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Magic, cooking and baking, gardening, domestic chores

BAD AT: Physically strenuous labor, Speaking, awful fashion sense

TURN ONS: Courage, Kindness, Altruism, Confidence (because she lacks it herself hah), Loyalty, Independence

TURN OFFS: Manipulation, Bad tempers, Sadism, Selfishness, Too domineering, Perversion or openly lustful behavior, Unnecessary violence

HOBBIES: Cooking or baking, gardening or farming, reading, writing, crochet, sightseeing. magic

TROPES: See this post

QUOTES : “It’s impossible... I’m just... I’m just too weak.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about? A1: She’s 100% not going to be the star of some action movie. I don’t know what title I’d give it, but probably a slow-paced melancholic movie focusing on character development driven narrative.

Q2: What would their soundtrack/score sound like? A2: Pianos. Lots of piano tracks. Q3: Why did you start writing this character? A3: She just kind of happened. Getting into ffxiv, I wasn’t really expecting to come out of it with a new OC I’d be obsessing over. But as I grew more attached to the story and also came up with headcanons for the player character, Illya just sort of developed into her own character in my eyes.

Q4: What first attracted you to this character? A4: Not sure if it counts but I was surprised just how much they made the player character so involved in the story, especially for an MMO. Her pro-activeness and continuously being willing to help and save others when I myself would have been too cynical to care made her endearing to me.

Q5: Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5: I’d like to think she’s a complex character, given how I spend more time thinking about her flaws than actual strengths.. but I do sometimes wonder if she’s too ideal or mary sue-ish. Her aesthetic of flowers, magic and purple has got to be the most overused and cliche combination of aesthetics imaginable. Also she stutters a lot, which makes writing dialogue in her POV slightly annoying. Q6: What do you have in common with your muse? A6: We’re both introverted and have self-esteem issues. We’re also both rather pessimistic, though for her she’s pessimistic in her beliefs of whether she’ll be able to live up to the expectations of others, while I’m pessimistic about everyone in general. Other than that I think we’re actually rather different.

Q7: How does your muse feel about you? A7: Dunno. She’d probably be really scared of me, I think. Q8: What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with? A8: If I had to go into detail about every interesting interaction she has I’d take another six hours to write but in a nutshell: Meets her best friend and fellow WOL Laurelis near the start of ARR and grows more and more attached and comfortable around her as time goes on despite starting off rather wary and weirded out by her. Meets Alphinaud at the very beginning of ARR but doesn’t really bond personally with him until the very start of HW. They confess some time mid-Stormblood. She has interesting dynamics with other WOL OCs I have too, but they’re a topic for another day. Q9: What gives you inspiration to write your muse? A9: Just my sheer love for her. I’ve grown to love her like I would any favourite character to the point she sometimes doesn’t feel like an OC anymore. Q10 : How long did this take you to complete? A10 : Too long. Granted I tabbed in and out, doing different things all at once but I really shouldn’t have taken close to three hours to finish this.

#ffxiv #never ending survey #character meme #lalafell #WOL #illya skawi #pure white #mine #long post

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sandersspectrum · 4 years

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Which Side is Most Likely to Go Dark - Analysis

We’ve all heard the story - The hero, disheartened by his failures or seduced by the wins of the villain, leaves their life of honor and instead joins the morally-corrupt side, leaving behind their friends who must then fight to get them back. It’s not an uncommon plot, and it’s a favorite one of mine to theorize over. So the question is, if Thomas was to decide to take the plot in this direction, which side would he choose?

When I first started this analysis, I set off with two main suspects. But as I dug deeper, I ran across a unique phenomenon that throws a wrench into pretty much any Sanders Sides analysis... The characters aren’t just characters, they’re representations of experiences and mental states, and therefore their character arcs will tie back into what they represent. As an example, we see a beat in Patton’s story that he holds a morally high standard to those around him, including Thomas, to a level that can be harmful to Thomas’s mental state. This isn’t a beat that I would normally expect to see in a character who is as bright and accepting as Patton normally is, but it is a beat I would expect to see from a character that represents the concept of “morality”, of being a good person and having good values and purity. Therefore, analyzing them the way I would a normal character is doing a disservice to the concept of the show, so I started over, and I found an unlikely angle on this analysis - they’re all likely suspects, but for different reasons. Let me explain.

Logan - The Characterization Angle

From the point of view of a character build, Logan is yards beyond any of the others in his natural pull towards The Dark Side. As a core part of his character, Logan rejects the notion of emotion and sentiment, and this leads him to very often being harsh or dismissive towards the other sides’ issues, including Thomas’s. This already gives him a darker tone as a base; he’s willing to ignore important parts of Thomas simply for the Most Efficient Path, and this could even be true from day one. Logan doesn’t need a character arc to convince him to be a dark side - Logic, if too heavily relied upon, could easily have been a dark side from day one. All he needed was Patton to be a little less vocal and just like that he’s the side suppressing the others in the name of Productivity. However, Logan has another, directly contradicting trait that gives makes a dark side twist a possibility: He doesn’t only dismiss others emotions, he dismisses his own.

In Learning New Things About Ourselves, we see Logan lash out in anger. Roman calls his need to always state “literal” or “figurative” stupid, and Logan screams and throws a wad of paper at him. The other sides seem slightly concerned, but Logan himself seems taken completely aback, as if the reaction was so far out of the realm of possibility that he wouldn’t have considered himself capable of it until he did it, which very much reflects what we see from Logan throughout the series. He’s consistently denying that he experiences any emotion, saying that he is “fearless, therefore powerful” in Phases and flat out that he “doesn’t feel anything” in Selflessness vs. Selfishness. However, both of these occurrences are pointed up in universe, first with skepticism from Thomas and then with patronizing reassurance from Deceit, to be untrue. This could foreshadow a huge twist in Logan’s character, one where Deceit reveals to Logan that he’s been lying to himself this whole time and Logan is, in fact, suppressing a lot of Thomas’s “negative” reactions by claiming that they’re irrational. In much a similar way to Remus, however, ignoring Anger doesn’t make it go away, and it’s possible that in devastation that logic can’t get rid of these irrational feelings, Logan becomes consumed by these emotions and turns evil in that manner. Instead of being the voice of reason for the group, he becomes aggressive and emotional, forcing the other sides to be the level-headed ones for once and encouraging him to stop trying to paint anger as a Bad Thing that only Illogical People experience and instead accepting it as a natural part of human nature, a feeling that All People Have and there are Healthy, Logical ways to deal with it. Of course, this could also be something that is explored through the side that contrasts Logan - Anger would certainly be a good fit for the color Orange, don’t you think?

As it stands, Logan is probably the most likely side to go dark from just Character Arcs alone. However, he’s not the side who is most likely to go dark from a storytelling perspective.

Roman - The Story Angle

At the core of who Roman is, he is a Fairytale Hero. He almost has his own world he lives in where he’s a prince and his brother is an evil duke, he fights Dragon Witches and has a Sworn Duty to one day raise Thomas up to the status he deserves in this world. And this fact makes the concept that if Roman were to turn dark it would be almost Cinematic in nature so, so sweet. Unlike Logan, Roman’s fall from grace would be just that - a fall. Instead of being shown the darkness in him all along, Roman would have to be broken to be pulled to the dark side. Deceit would finally have to wear him down, convince him that being Honest and Honorable isn’t how the world works, and that no one has ever become famous by being honest. It would be one of the hardest falls for the character themselves to handle as well. Roman’s personality has always been easily wrapped up in the fact that he’s idealistic. He lives in a world of Heroes and Villains, where people are Good and Evil, and while Deceit is a master of exploiting this weakness by twisting words and stringing Roman along on lines of compliments and subtle jabs, Patton is also very good at using this to keep Roman on the straight and narrow. It would take a pretty big setback for Roman to lose his faith. But... They’re certainly not moving away from that direction in the story, are they?

Let’s look at some of Roman’s story beats so far, shall we? Firstly, his pride is wounded by messing up during an audition to the point of not being able to show his face in a video. Secondly, the side that represents what he considers “the one big thing that gets in the way” of his job is suddenly starting to be listened to, heeded, worked with. And while that’s a good thing, and Virgil stops being a massive stumbling block and instead just a voice of caution, it certainly can’t help Roman’s pride much. Thirdly, Roman is consistently shut down and berated for his desire to rekindle an old romance of Thomas’s, then soon after he’s knocked down by Logan calling him delusional and unrealistic, then THE NEXT EPISODE Logan gets recognition for a passion that Roman himself shares, and then two episodes after that Roman gives up on the biggest opportunity that Character Thomas has ever received and then spends the next episode out cold while his evil twin corrupts the very idea of creativity for Thomas. That’s... A lot, you guys. You can’t ignore that out of all the characters, Roman probably takes the roughest plot beats and throughout all of it he’s played for an upbeat, idealistic dreamer. But dreamers and hopers tend to be fragile, and I can’t imagine that Roman can take too much more of this until he cracks. And like I said, the character arc would be almost cinematic. Thomas’s creativity, the side that controls his livelihood and his passions and his drive, finally breaks under the pressure and gives up his naive and idealistic worldview in order to side with Deceit, saying that the only way Thomas will ever succeed is by sacrificing being “a good person” in order to accomplish. Maybe Thomas even goes in for this for a bit, and it works, but he finds that he hates life at the top if it means that he has to shut his empathy and hope down and become distrusting of everyone and deceitful.

So now we’ve covered the two sides that I started this analysis for... But what about Patton and Virgil? What about that Conceptual Factor I mentioned earlier? Well.

Patton and Virgil - The Concept Angle

Sanders Sides is a story about emotions, about understanding aspects of personalities. These aspects themselves can’t be treated like normal characters, because they’re not really people. They’re representations of metaphysical ideas, and that brings its own ideas to consider, the first idea being that what Patton and Virgil represent would both be served well by being represented in a dark light.

If you’ve been in the fandom for more than about a month, you’ve likely heard the phrase “unsympathetic Patton”. This is a headcanon/AU that centers around Patton being manipulative and controlling, although it can be extended much further than the story itself shows, what I found interesting about this view on Patton is that it’s actually a legitimate criticism of Patton as a character and even for what his basis is - Morality. You see, from almost the start of the series we see Patton holding Thomas to a high standard and throughout we see it continually damage Thomas. Heck, we even got in-universe confirmation through Remus that Patton freaks out whenever Thomas so much as considers something that Patton considers “morally unacceptable” that he’s willing to ignore and shut off entire sides of Thomas he doesn’t wish to acknowledge. This could be indicative that they’re planning on taking Patton’s character in a bit more of a darker direction, in fact one thing I’ve found interesting is that the other sides seem to be able to forcefully influence the others when they grow too strong such as Deceit keeping their mouths shut or Anxiety driving them to panic in his room, and we see Patton himself use this power on Roman a few times via stern glance that makes Roman immediately walk back whatever morally grey suggestion he makes. In the narrative Patton’s intentions are good, he wants Thomas to be A Good Person, but the lesson that viewing your understanding of morality as hard and fast rules and any deviation from it automatically makes you Bad can be severely damaging. It’s a lesson that isn’t represented much in fiction and I honestly think Patton could be a good conduit for exploring that.

However... there is a huge negative that I feel necessary to address with that analysis and it’s that turning Patton, even temporarily, into a dark side would be a massive base breaker. A Base Breaker is a character or an event that is so controversial to an established fanbase that it ends up driving away some of the fans, and I honestly believe that this would break the base of the Sanders Sides fandom. See, the fandom is made up of a decently diverse spread of personalities and the idea of Unsympathetic Patton is an established AU, but a good amount of Fanders consider Patton to be a character they can relate to or admire. He represents something warm and friendly, a father figure from day one who accepts Anxiety and encourages the sides to fight for what’s right and I honestly believe that taking him in a direction that is darker would corrupt that concept for a lot of fans and it would be a controversial move that would be hard to accept. I think that the best way to handle this story arc would be to keep it as a B-side arc, where it’s developed quietly through episodes like Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts where other sides take center stage and Patton merely acknowledges and learns from being too strict instead of turning him into the center of an arc and causing him to go Full Dark Side even if it is an important lesson.

Virgil’s a similar case - as a character, Virgil has already been redeemed once and it would make sense to keep his character as a reactionary character where he reacts to Deceit turning up and he interacts with the light sides based on his experiences as a dark side like he has been. However, Virgil represents Anxiety, and it would be a similarly important lesson to get across that recovery from anything, be it anxiety or depression or intrusive thoughts, isn’t a straight line. Accepting that you have anxiety isn’t always the end-all-be-all, and situations can catapult you right back into a state where anxiety might be working against you again and you need to deal with those issues.

This has the downside of the fact that it’s hard to have the same antagonist twice. It’s hard to redeem a character and have them relapse without making the audience tired and feel cheated. There’s some pretty decent groundwork laid out for it, such as the fact that Virgil was much more laid back as an antagonist and seems much more out of his element when he’s with the light sides as well as the others refusing to say the word “paranoid” as if Virgil has some sort of symbolic “final form” dark side, however much like Patton I’m not so sure that this is the direction Thomas and Friends will take this series, although less because it would be a controversial move and more that it would just be a little bit harder to pull off from a storytelling perspective than, say, Roman.

Your TL;DR is that all the sides hav e a possibility to go dark, although my personal favorite would be finally seeing Roman break and turn evil. Of course, it’s entirely possible that none of the sides will “go dark”, after all we have a perfectly presentable sympathetic antagonist in Deceit and there’s still the possibility of one or more sides cropping up in the future, this is simply just a fun analysis about some possible directions the series could take. However, if you can think of any more fun reasons the sides might go dark, leave them in the notes or send me an ask! For now, take it easy, fanders, see you next time! ^_^

#Sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides theory #sanders sides analysis #yellow post #indigo post #wHOO FIRST INDIGO POST IS UP HECK YEAH!!!

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