#there is no moral way to wage war | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thethief1996 · 4 months

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For the past 100 days, Israel has been waging a genocide campaign in Gaza without any sort of reprieve from western countries. Palestinians are suffering from a human-made famine, surpassing the scale and speed of any other famine enforced in the past 75 years. Healthcare professionals are being cornered into Rafah by constant airstrikes, sniper attacks and bombardments at hospitals, forced to leave patients and medical supplies behind. Unmaned quadcopters opened fire on the maternity and ICU unities of Al Aqsa Martyrs hospital and killed 8 civilians. Yesterday, the hospital ran out of fuel and the babies in incubators might die anytime soon. Only 127 aid trucks are being allowed into Gaza of the 500 allowed before the war, under "normal" blockade conditions. The distribution of food and water is made basically impossible by the destruction of communications and the looming threat of executions against people gathered to receive it. Just today snipers killed 3 people in line to receive food in Gaza City and Israel officials have the gall to say the problem is that humanitarian organizations, whose volunteers are being executed at unprecedent rates, aren't putting in enough effort. The IDF drops leaflets telling desperate refugees to flee and then station tanks on the roads or bombs the safe zones.

Ever since I read South Africa's submission to the ICJ I can't stop thinking about how they label it as the demication of Gaza and its people. On every sphere of the government, there are statements calling for the anihilation of the people of Gaza (pages 59 to 67). The Prime Minister has directly adressed the army telling them to wipe off the amalekites (page 60), and South Africa showed tiktoks of the soldiers repeating his speech word for word before committing massacres. And yet they have the gall to come to the world and say they haven't targeted hospitals, they haven't withheld aid and that the statements are "random assertions." To prove that Netanyahu isn't a blood thirsty pig, they pasted a statement he made ONE DAY before the hearing started, which is frankly ridiculous we're supposed to believe isn't a PR stunt (page 34).

No western outlet streamed the highest stake court hearing in the 21st century, but you can rest assured they streamed Israel's pathetic defense. And Canada, Germany, the UK and the US, countries which have in no way reckoned with their own genocidal pasts, have come forward in defense of Israel like they have any moral high ground to patronize the world about genocide.

Take action, for their sake. Motaz has said "Don't call yourself a free person if you can't make changes. If you can't stop a genocide that is still ongoing". We need to fight in any way we can to stop their massacre.

Keep yourself updated and share Palestinian voices. Muna El-Kurd said every tweet is like a treasure to them, because their voices are repressed on social media and even on this very app. Make it your action item to share something about the Palestinian plight everyday. Here are some resources:

Al Jazeera, Anadolu Agency, Mondoweiss

Boycott Divest Sanction Movement

Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing protests and direct action against weapons factories across the US

Mohammed El-Kurd (twitter / instagram)

Muhammad Shehada (twitter)

Motaz Azaiza (instagram) - reporting directly from Gaza.

Hind Khudary - reporting directly from Gaza. Her husband and daughter moved South to run from the tanks but she stayed behind to record the genocide. The least we can do is not let her calls fall on deaf ears.

You can participate in boycotts wherever you are in the world, through BDS guidelines. Don't be overwhelmed by gigantic boycott lists. BDS explicitly targets only a few brands which have bigger impact. Right now, they are focusing on boycotting the following:

Carrefour, HP, Puma, Sabra, Sodastream, Ahava cosmetics, McDonalds, Disney and Israeli fruits and vegetables

Push for a cultural boycott - pressure your favorite artist to speak out on Palestine and cancel any upcoming performances on occupied territory (Lorde cancelled her gig in Israel because of this. It works.)

If you can, participate in direct action or donate.

Palestine Action works to shut down Israeli weapons factories in the UK and USA, and have successfully shut down one of their firms in London.Some of the activists are going on trial and are calling for mobilizing on court.

Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing direct actions to stop the shipping of wars to Israel. Follow them.

Educate yourself. Read into Palestinian history and the occupation. You can't common sense people out of decades of propaganda. If your arguments crumble when a zionist brings up the "disengagement of Gaza", you have to learn more.

Read Decolonize Palestine. They have 15 minute reads that concisely explain the occupation (and its colonial roots) and debunk popular myths, including pinkwashing.

Read on Palestine. Here's an amazing masterpost.

Verso Book Club is giving out free books on Palestine (I personally downloaded Ten Myths about Israel by Ilan Pappe. If you still believe in the two states solution, this book by an Israeli professor debunks it).

Call your representatives. The Labour Party in the UK had an emergency meeting after several councilors threatened to resign if they didn't condemn Israeli war crimes. Calling to show your complaints works, even more if you live in a country that funds genocide.

FOR PEOPLE IN THE USA: USCPR has developed this toolkit for calls, here's a document that autosends emails to your representatives and here's a toolkit by Ceasefire in Gaza NOW!

FOR PEOPLE IN EUROPE: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace targeting the European Parliament and one specific for almost all countries in Europe, including Germany, Ireland, Poland, Denmark, Sweden, Netherlands, Greece, Norway, Italy, Portugal, Spain, Finland, Austria, Belgium Romania and Ukraine

FOR PEOPLE IN THE UK: Friends of Al-Aqsa UK and Palestine Solidarity UK have made toolkits for calls and emails

FOR PEOPLE IN AUSTRALIA: Here's a toolkit by Stand With Palestine

FOR PEOPLE IN CANADA: Here's a toolkit by Indepent Jewish Voices for Canada

Join a protest. Here's a constantly updating list of protests:

Global calendar

Another global calendar (go to the instragram of the organizers to confirm your protest)

USA calendar

Australia calendar

Feel free to add more.

#free palestine #save gaza #gaza under attack

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igotanidea · 2 months

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Dirty work: Jason Todd x reader

A/N: I am a firm believer that even in his post-patrol haze and surge of energy all Jason Todd needs from his beloved princess are hugs, not fucks and i will die on this hill.

***

The adrenaline was still fuzzing in his system, even after hours and hours of his night job in Gotham. It was stressful and hitting on all his sensitive spots hidden so deep under the surface. Muscles moving in the trained motion he practised milion times before, each instinct spurred on by imagination running wild.

Hurt, scared, innocent kids, left to tend to themselves on the streets.

Ordinary citizens exposed to the aftermath of whatever drama and destruction the mobs and gangs decided to wage that night.

Terror on the street on women who were working the night shift, trying to make a living, make ends meet.

And the same shit going on over and over again every fucking night, because fucking someone had a fucking moral code. Because fucking someone refused to put an end to something terrible, too afraid to stain his fucking soul.

Red Hood didn't have a soul to save anymore.

Not after everything that happened in his life.

Dirty wokrk, but someone had to do it.

One life taken, dozens of other's saved. Felt like constantly being at war and the heat of the fight made it so much easier to forget about the sacrifices made along the way.

Red Hood was strong, tough and ready to take on the hardest responsiblity of cleaning Gotham of scumbags and crimnals.

But after?

Once the first rays of a morning sun loomed on the horizon, Jason knew it was time to go home. Take off the mask. Became an ordinary man once more.

Hoping, wishing and praying she wouldn't kick him out again this time. That she would take him, despite the blood on his hands, the injuries on his body and deep scars on his soul.

Not a Red Hood anymore.

Jason Todd. Human. Man. Boyfiend.

The energy was still high when he climbed to the apartment and stood on the wooden floor, carefullly avoiding that one screetching floarboard, almost stepping on his toes to not wake her.

"Jason."

Years of vigilantism and dealing with shit.

Hightened instincts and senses.

And yet, Y'N's voice in the morning, in the empty, quiet apartment made him jump from surprise, causing her to giggle, causing the surprise to give way to a wave of warm feelings.

"Morning, sunshine."

"Depends. Did you bring me breakfast?" she teased

"Since when do you eat breakfast?"

"It doesn't matter if I do!" she got out of the bed, yawning widely, rubbing her eyes and stepping closer to him, taking his helmet off, mindful of the explosived installed there (biting her tongue to not say something about using a protection that was simultaniously life threatening) "You are supposed to preach me about not eating healthy and feeding me with the best groceries. Croissaints, fancy salads, low fat cheese. All that stuff!"

"Are you for real?" he frowned in confusion upon her words. What was going on here?

"Nah, I'm joking cause I can tell that under all this pose you're tired. Though maybe a bit of laugh would do you good. Even if it;s at my expense" she smiled cupping his cheek and meeting his eyes "What do you need? hugs, kisses, cuddles? Or somehing more intense?" that was an obvious hint she was willing to help if he needed some action to blow off some steam.

"Can you just be with me? I just need your presence next to me. Knowing this is all real and I won't wake up alone again." hearing those words coming from Jason was the biggest leap of faith. He was not the one to admit to feeling tired or that something was weighting on his conscience once out of the mask. Never in the million years. But with her - it was simpler, easier, knowing she would just listen and observe rather than fill the silence with silly questions and talking and preaching and lamenting about his behaviour.

"I'm here. I promise, it's all real. You're not alone." She nodded calmly.

Jason produced the tiniest smile and let her guide him to the warm bed with the soft sheets smelling like her, with her arms wrapped around him like a soft cocoon.

And it was just fine.

No need to talk or to explain or to fight anymore.

Getting rid of this feeling that nothing made sense, his efforts were futile and no one would ever understand him.

Finally, a little bit of peace and maybe - just maybe - the tiniest amount of happiness brought by the steady beating of her heart in his ear and the gentle movement of her fingers in his hair.

True meaning of intimacy between two people.

Bonding for life.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff

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liberalsarecool · 3 months

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The fact that we know how to reduce poverty and we still put vulnerable communities last in line is how you define Christian American.

The Right Wing has aligned with conservative Christians/Evangelicals to wage war on the marginalized. You see the cruelty every day.

The one way that DOES NOT lower crime is more prisons/more punishment.

If you want a better future, you have to vote every election. Together, over time, we will bend the arc of the moral universe towards justice.

#SundaySermon

#sunday sermon

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months

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The moral injury of having your work enshittified

This Monday (November 27), I'm appearing at the Toronto Metro Reference Library with Facebook whistleblower Frances Haugen.

On November 29, I'm at NYC's Strand Books with my novel The Lost Cause, a solarpunk tale of hope and danger that Rebecca Solnit called "completely delightful."

This week, I wrote about how the Great Enshittening – in which all the digital services we rely on become unusable, extractive piles of shit – did not result from the decay of the morals of tech company leadership, but rather, from the collapse of the forces that discipline corporate wrongdoing:

https://locusmag.com/2023/11/commentary-by-cory-doctorow-dont-be-evil/

The failure to enforce competition law allowed a few companies to buy out their rivals, or sell goods below cost until their rivals collapsed, or bribe key parts of their supply chain not to allow rivals to participate:

https://www.engadget.com/google-reportedly-pays-apple-36-percent-of-ad-search-revenues-from-safari-191730783.html

The resulting concentration of the tech sector meant that the surviving firms were stupendously wealthy, and cozy enough that they could agree on a common legislative agenda. That regulatory capture has allowed tech companies to violate labor, privacy and consumer protection laws by arguing that the law doesn't apply when you use an app to violate it:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

But the regulatory capture isn't just about preventing regulation: it's also about creating regulation – laws that make it illegal to reverse-engineer, scrape, and otherwise mod, hack or reconfigure existing services to claw back value that has been taken away from users and business customers. This gives rise to Jay Freeman's perfectly named doctrine of "felony contempt of business-model," in which it is illegal to use your own property in ways that anger the shareholders of the company that sold it to you:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/09/lead-me-not-into-temptation/#chamberlain

Undisciplined by the threat of competition, regulation, or unilateral modification by users, companies are free to enshittify their products. But what does that actually look like? I say that enshittification is always precipitated by a lost argument.

It starts when someone around a board-room table proposes doing something that's bad for users but good for the company. If the company faces the discipline of competition, regulation or self-help measures, then the workers who are disgusted by this course of action can say, "I think doing this would be gross, and what's more, it's going to make the company poorer," and so they win the argument.

But when you take away that discipline, the argument gets reduced to, "Don't do this because it would make me ashamed to work here, even though it will make the company richer." Money talks, bullshit walks. Let the enshittification begin!

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/22/who-wins-the-argument/#corporations-are-people-my-friend

But why do workers care at all? That's where phrases like "don't be evil" come into the picture. Until very recently, tech workers participated in one of history's tightest labor markets, in which multiple companies with gigantic war-chests bid on their labor. Even low-level employees routinely fielded calls from recruiters who dangled offers of higher salaries and larger stock grants if they would jump ship for a company's rival.

Employers built "campuses" filled with lavish perks: massages, sports facilities, daycare, gourmet cafeterias. They offered workers generous benefit packages, including exotic health benefits like having your eggs frozen so you could delay fertility while offsetting the risks normally associated with conceiving at a later age.

But all of this was a transparent ruse: the business-case for free meals, gyms, dry-cleaning, catering and massages was to keep workers at their laptops for 10, 12, or even 16 hours per day. That egg-freezing perk wasn't about helping workers plan their families: it was about thumbing the scales in favor of working through your entire twenties and thirties without taking any parental leave.

In other words, tech employers valued their employees as a means to an end: they wanted to get the best geeks on the payroll and then work them like government mules. The perks and pay weren't the result of comradeship between management and labor: they were the result of the discipline of competition for labor.

This wasn't really a secret, of course. Big Tech workers are split into two camps: blue badges (salaried employees) and green badges (contractors). Whenever there is a slack labor market for a specific job or skill, it is converted from a blue badge job to a green badge job. Green badges don't get the food or the massages or the kombucha. They don't get stock or daycare. They don't get to freeze their eggs. They also work long hours, but they are incentivized by the fear of poverty.

Tech giants went to great lengths to shield blue badges from green badges – at some Google campuses, these workforces actually used different entrances and worked in different facilities or on different floors. Sometimes, green badge working hours would be staggered so that the armies of ragged clickworkers would not be lined up to badge in when their social betters swanned off the luxury bus and into their airy adult kindergartens.

But Big Tech worked hard to convince those blue badges that they were truly valued. Companies hosted regular town halls where employees could ask impertinent questions of their CEOs. They maintained freewheeling internal social media sites where techies could rail against corporate foolishness and make Dilbert references.

And they came up with mottoes.

Apple told its employees it was a sound environmental steward that cared about privacy. Apple also deliberately turned old devices into e-waste by shredding them to ensure that they wouldn't be repaired and compete with new devices:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

And even as they were blocking Facebook's surveillance tools, they quietly built their own nonconsensual mass surveillance program and lied to customers about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Facebook told employees they were on a "mission to connect every person in the world," but instead deliberately sowed discontent among its users and trapped them in silos that meant that anyone who left Facebook lost all their friends:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

And Google promised its employees that they would not "be evil" if they worked at Google. For many googlers, that mattered. They wanted to do something good with their lives, and they had a choice about who they would work for. What's more, they did make things that were good. At their high points, Google Maps, Google Mail, and of course, Google Search were incredible.

My own life was totally transformed by Maps: I have very poor spatial sense, need to actually stop and think to tell my right from my left, and I spent more of my life at least a little lost and often very lost. Google Maps is the cognitive prosthesis I needed to become someone who can go anywhere. I'm profoundly grateful to the people who built that service.

There's a name for phenomenon in which you care so much about your job that you endure poor conditions and abuse: it's called "vocational awe," as coined by Fobazi Ettarh:

https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/

Ettarh uses the term to apply to traditionally low-waged workers like librarians, teachers and nurses. In our book Chokepoint Capitalism, Rebecca Giblin and I talked about how it applies to artists and other creative workers, too:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

But vocational awe is also omnipresent in tech. The grandiose claims to be on a mission to make the world a better place are not just puffery – they're a vital means of motivating workers who can easily quit their jobs and find a new one to put in 16-hour days. The massages and kombucha and egg-freezing are not framed as perks, but as logistical supports, provided so that techies on an important mission can pursue a shared social goal without being distracted by their balky, inconvenient meatsuits.

Steve Jobs was a master of instilling vocational awe. He was full of aphorisms like "we're here to make a dent in the universe, otherwise why even be here?" Or his infamous line to John Sculley, whom he lured away from Pepsi: "Do you want to sell sugar water for the rest of your life or come with me and change the world?"

Vocational awe cuts both ways. If your workforce actually believes in all that high-minded stuff, if they actually sacrifice their health, family lives and self-care to further the mission, they will defend it. That brings me back to enshittification, and the argument: "If we do this bad thing to the product I work on, it will make me hate myself."

The decline in market discipline for large tech companies has been accompanied by a decline in labor discipline, as the market for technical work grew less and less competitive. Since the dotcom collapse, the ability of tech giants to starve new entrants of market oxygen has shrunk techies' dreams.

Tech workers once dreamed of working for a big, unwieldy firm for a few years before setting out on their own to topple it with a startup. Then, the dream shrank: work for that big, clumsy firm for a few years, then do a fake startup that makes a fake product that is acquihired by your old employer, as an incredibly inefficient and roundabout way to get a raise and a bonus.

Then the dream shrank again: work for a big, ugly firm for life, but get those perks, the massages and the kombucha and the stock options and the gourmet cafeteria and the egg-freezing. Then it shrank again: work for Google for a while, but then get laid off along with 12,000 co-workers, just months after the company does a stock buyback that would cover all those salaries for the next 27 years:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

Tech workers' power was fundamentally individual. In a tight labor market, tech workers could personally stand up to their bosses. They got "workplace democracy" by mouthing off at town hall meetings. They didn't have a union, and they thought they didn't need one. Of course, they did need one, because there were limits to individual power, even for the most in-demand workers, especially when it came to ghastly, long-running sexual abuse from high-ranking executives:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/25/technology/google-sexual-harassment-andy-rubin.html

Today, atomized tech workers who are ordered to enshittify the products they take pride in are losing the argument. Workers who put in long hours, missed funerals and school plays and little league games and anniversaries and family vacations are being ordered to flush that sacrifice down the toilet to grind out a few basis points towards a KPI.

It's a form of moral injury, and it's palpable in the first-person accounts of former workers who've exited these large firms or the entire field. The viral "Reflecting on 18 years at Google," written by Ian Hixie, vibrates with it:

https://ln.hixie.ch/?start=1700627373

Hixie describes the sense of mission he brought to his job, the workplace democracy he experienced as employees' views were both solicited and heeded. He describes the positive contributions he was able to make to a commons of technical standards that rippled out beyond Google – and then, he says, "Google's culture eroded":

Decisions went from being made for the benefit of users, to the benefit of Google, to the benefit of whoever was making the decision.

In other words, techies started losing the argument. Layoffs weakened worker power – not just to defend their own interest, but to defend the users interests. Worker power is always about more than workers – think of how the 2019 LA teachers' strike won greenspace for every school, a ban on immigration sweeps of students' parents at the school gates and other community benefits:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/

Hixie attributes the changes to a change in leadership, but I respectfully disagree. Hixie points to the original shareholder letter from the Google founders, in which they informed investors contemplating their IPO that they were retaining a controlling interest in the company's governance so that they could ignore their shareholders' priorities in favor of a vision of Google as a positive force in the world:

https://abc.xyz/investor/founders-letters/ipo-letter/

Hixie says that the leadership that succeeded the founders lost sight of this vision – but the whole point of that letter is that the founders never fully ceded control to subsequent executive teams. Yes, those executive teams were accountable to the shareholders, but the largest block of voting shares were retained by the founders.

I don't think the enshittification of Google was due to a change in leadership – I think it was due to a change in discipline, the discipline imposed by competition, regulation and the threat of self-help measures. Take ads: when Google had to contend with one-click adblocker installation, it had to constantly balance the risk of making users so fed up that they googled "how do I block ads?" and then never saw another ad ever again.

But once Google seized the majority of the mobile market, it was able to funnel users into apps, and reverse-engineering an app is a felony (felony contempt of business-model) under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. An app is just a web-page wrapped in enough IP to make it a crime to install an ad-blocker.

And as Google acquired control over the browser market, it was likewise able to reduce the self-help measures available to browser users who found ads sufficiently obnoxious to trigger googling "how do I block ads?" The apotheosis of this is the yearslong campaign to block adblockers in Chrome, which the company has sworn it will finally do this coming June:

https://www.tumblr.com/tevruden/734352367416410112/you-have-until-june-to-dump-chrome

My contention here is not that Google's enshittification was precipitated by a change in personnel via the promotion of managers who have shitty ideas. Google's enshittification was precipitated by a change in discipline, as the negative consequences of heeding those shitty ideas were abolished thanks to monopoly.

This is bad news for people like me, who rely on services like Google Maps as cognitive prostheses. Elizabeth Laraki, one of the original Google Maps designers, has published a scorching critique of the latest GMaps design:

https://twitter.com/elizlaraki/status/1727351922254852182

Laraki calls out numerous enshittificatory design-choices that have left Maps screens covered in "crud" – multiple revenue-maximizing elements that come at the expense of usability, shifting value from users to Google.

What Laraki doesn't say is that these UI elements are auctioned off to merchants, which means that the business that gives Google the most money gets the greatest prominence in Maps, even if it's not the best merchant. That's a recurring motif in enshittified tech platforms, most notoriously Amazon, which makes $31b/year auctioning off top search placement to companies whose products aren't relevant enough to your query to command that position on their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

Enshittification begets enshittification. To succeed on Amazon, you must divert funds from product quality to auction placement, which means that the top results are the worst products:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

The exception is searches for Apple products: Apple and Amazon have a cozy arrangement that means that searches for Apple products are a timewarp back to the pre-enshittification Amazon, when the company worried enough about losing your business to heed the employees who objected to sacrificing search quality as part of a merchant extortion racket:

https://www.businessinsider.com/amazon-gives-apple-special-treatment-while-others-suffer-junk-ads-2023-11

Not every tech worker is a tech bro, in other words. Many workers care deeply about making your life better. But the microeconomics of the boardroom in a monopolized tech sector rewards the worst people and continuously promotes them. Forget the Peter Principle: tech is ruled by the Sam Principle.

As OpenAI went through four CEOs in a single week, lots of commentators remarked on Sam Altman's rise and fall and rise, but I only found one commentator who really had Altman's number. Writing in Today in Tabs, Rusty Foster nailed Altman to the wall:

https://www.todayintabs.com/p/defective-accelerationism

Altman's history goes like this: first, he founded a useless startup that raised $30m, only to be acquired and shuttered. Then Altman got a job running Y Combinator, where he somehow failed at taking huge tranches of equity from "every Stanford dropout with an idea for software to replace something Mommy used to do." After that, he founded OpenAI, a company that he claims to believe presents an existential risk to the entire human risk – which he structured so incompetently that he was then forced out of it.

His reward for this string of farcical, mounting failures? He was put back in charge of the company he mis-structured despite his claimed belief that it will destroy the human race if not properly managed.

Altman's been around for a long time. He founded his startup in 2005. There've always been Sams – of both the Bankman-Fried varietal and the Altman genus – in tech. But they didn't get to run amok. They were disciplined by their competitors, regulators, users and workers. The collapse of competition led to an across-the-board collapse in all of those forms of discipline, revealing the executives for the mediocre sociopaths they always were, and exposing tech workers' vocational awe for the shabby trick it was from the start.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification

#pluralistic #moral injury #enshittification #worker power #google #dont be evil #monopoly #sam altman #openai #vocational awe #making a dent in the universe

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eggluverz · 7 months

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A STARE WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS

PAIRING. dan feng x gn!reader

WORD COUNT. 1.4k

SUMMARY. you and dan feng were just friends. close comrades who challenged each other. but you were starting to suspect that just friends don't stare at each other like this...

NOTE: dan feng on the brain !!!! i was looking thru some writing prompts and there was a list of friends to lovers that inspired meeee :> i hope y'all enjoy this lil dan feng drabble!! :o ~sof

It wasn’t always easy being a friend of the esteemed High Cloud Quintet, but it sure was fun. In a group of warriors and leaders, some of your morals seemed to go against the grain. With your more pacifist approach, you preferred healing and mediating disagreements rather than resorting to a clash of the swords.

Still, you were not young with folly such as before. You understood there was a time and place for everything and, sometimes, war was inevitable in this world. You could only sigh to yourself, wishing it weren’t so.

But while battles waged on, you at least wanted to help those wounded trying to fight for what was right—no matter how misguided you thought their approach was.

Dan Feng was someone you chose to confide in. The great warrior, the Imbibitor Lunae, somehow empathized with your inner conflicts more than you would have expected him to. He may have been a cutthroat, fearless leader, but he was also gentle and thoughtful, pondering whether or not the ends truly justified the means in between brutal battles.

The people he led could never see that ever-questioning side of him. Nor could he ever find the vulnerability to show them. That was something he reserved only for the closest of friends.

That was something he reserved only for you.

You let out a deep breath after a long day of work, smiling only to greet Dan Feng who had asked you to meet up with him over dinner.

“Like a date,” Baiheng sang with a grin when you had told her the previous day.

Your cheeks flushed at the memory. Two friends could certainly partake in evening consumption of sustenance together without it being a date, you had reminded her. And yourself.

“Sure, but do just friends stare into each other’s eyes for seconds too long like you two do?”

With a small laugh and a shake of your head, you brought yourself back to present time with Dan Feng.

“Good evening,” you greeted with a wave. “Have you been waiting long?”

“I have been left alone here all day waiting for your arrival,” he jested with a dramatic sigh, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards to let you know he was only joking.

“Of course,” you played along, “I do not doubt that the great Imbibitor Lunae has plenty of time to spare waiting about.”

“For you? Most certainly.”

You fought a grin off your face at his kindness. Dan Feng truly was a good person, always putting his friends first. For a moment, you wondered how much more thoughtful he would be towards a partner—towards someone he had romantic feelings for. But you did not allow yourself to entertain those thoughts for too long. After all, you had food to eat.

“I requested your favorite dish,” he said as the meal came to your table. Establishments in which private outdoor dining was an accommodation were not common in your area, so you and Dan Feng often frequented the one closest to you. It was no strange feat for him to commit your favorite dish to memory. “I hope I did not overstep, but it was getting dark out and I know you tend to grow rather famished at this hour.”

You smiled as the scent of the food in front of you wafted through the air, causing your stomach to grumble quietly. “I appreciate your preparation, Dan Feng. You aren’t overstepping in the slightest.”

In fact, you quite liked that Dan Feng went out of his way to ensure you would have food to eat by the time you arrived for dinner. He was right— You were running late today and you were rather peckish by the time you had arrived. It was a simple act of kindness, and you were grateful for it.

Dan Feng really was nice to his friends.

If you did not have a good head on your shoulders, you might have let your emotions confuse the situation and misread his intentions towards you. He simply was a good friend to you and the High Cloud Quintet, though in moments of delusion you felt yourself imagining more.

Especially moments of delusion fueled by the unnerving stare on his face directed right at you. Unnerving in a positive sense, of course.

Unnerving in a way of not being able to understand the depth of emotions behind those bright eyes of his. Unnerving enough to pique your curiosity and want to learn just what that stare meant.

The certain stare he was giving you right now.

Was he looking at you like a confidant? A scholar to share his pacifist literature with? A friend? A lover?

If Dan Feng noticed your inner turmoil, all he did was smile. It was a smile that said he knew exactly what was running through your mind. His piercing gaze stayed locked on yours as he tilted his head and took a sip of tea.

Unable to help yourself, you blurted, “Do you intend to look at me in such a way?”

An expression of delighted amusement formed on his face before he regained his stoic composure. “In what manner are you referring to, my dear?”

Your heart stirred in confusion at his affectionate words. This High Elder truly had a disarming effect on you.

“Such as how you are staring at me right now!” you cried, feeling rather indignant. “It is how you’ve been staring at me for the past few months, even. It— It bewilders me!”

“And how, exactly, am I staring at you?” he pushed, a confident smile on his lips as he awaited your answer.

“You are staring at me…as if you want me.”

His eyes widened for a brief moment, like he was shocked you gave in to his teasing and prodding this time.

“You keep staring at me like that, and treating me in a special manner… You should be careful, Dan Feng,” you said with a sigh, slowly bringing your utensils to your mouth. Before biting, you stated, “You could confuse even the most refined of individuals that way, are you aware?”

He studied you before asking, “As an esteemed and refined Vidyadhara yourself, what do you find confusing?”

“Whether I am reading your intentions incorrectly or not,” you said, no longer bothering to hide you frustration.

“It is not my desire to confuse you,” promised Dan Feng, a genuine look on his face as you finally met his gaze again. “For that, I apologize sincerely.”

Your stomach churned in dejected understanding. “Thank you for the apologize. It is okay.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t have gotten ahead of yourself and confused his kindness for interest. You shoved the food around on your plate, trying to downplay your disappointment that Dan Feng did not desire you after all.

At your lackluster response, he cleared his throat. He looked at your downcast expression and frowned. “Perhaps I am not making myself clear enough. Believe me, you are certainly not misinterpreting my intentions.”

Your eyes widened at his clarification. “Meaning…?”

“I do want you.” Dan Feng set his teacup down with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “I admire your strength and your intellect. Your desire for peace and your willingness to do what is right. You are nuanced and complex and, at times, even oblivious,” he smiled at the thought of you misunderstanding his initial confession, “and you are my close friend I have found myself getting more and more drawn to.”

Giggles bubbled up from inside you, more so in excitement than in amusement. If it weren’t unbecoming of an unpartnered Vidyadhara to show public displays of affection, you would have ran over to Dan Feng and given him a hug by now.

“I want you, too, Dan Feng,” is what you said instead. “You are cunning and sharp, yet understanding and gentle. Your thoughtfulness is inspiring and I have never met anyone more loyal than you.”

The apples of his cheeks tinged the lightest pink you had ever seen, and you fought the urge to continuously shower him with more compliments.

“You’re the only one I could confide my potentially treasonous thoughts in,” you laughed while he nodded with amusement. Your gaze softened as your tone grew more serious. “You are one of my best friends, but I can envision a road in which we are more than that, even— Lovers.”

If he was surprised at all, he did not show it.

“That is the path I would prefer to take.” Dan Feng extended his hand from across the table as if it were a mere offering to your boundless grace. “Do you desire to take it with me?”

“With you?” you repeated, slipping your hand into his with a smile. “Most certainly.”

#hsr x reader #dan feng x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr imagines #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr fanfiction #dan heng x reader #dan feng #imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae x reader

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elryuse · 1 month

Note

Yandere idol gaeul obsessed with her non idol older childhood friend and snapped when she found out he has a gf

Jealous.

YANDERE IDOL GAEUL X CHILDHOOD MALE READER

Gaeul, the captivating idol of the renowned girl group IVE, was the epitome of grace and charm on stage. Adored by millions, she danced to the rhythm of fame, her life orchestrated by spotlights and applause. Yet, beneath the dazzling facade, Gaeul harbored a dark obsession.

Amidst her whirlwind schedule, Gaeul's world collided with her childhood friend, Lee Y/n. His presence brought solace, a sanctuary from the relentless demands of stardom.

"Y/n, it's been so long," Gaeul smiled, her eyes betraying a longing that transcended words.

Y/n grinned back, the familiarity of their bond washing over him like a comforting embrace. "I've missed you, Gaeul. It's like nothing's changed."

With Y/n, she rediscovered the simplicity of laughter and the warmth of genuine companionship. As their bond deepened, Gaeul found herself ensnared in the melody of forbidden affection.

But fate's cruel twist revealed Y/n's devotion to another—a girlfriend whose existence shattered Gaeul's fragile fantasy.

"How long have you been together?" Gaeul asked, her voice betraying a hint of forced cheerfulness.

Y/n's smile faltered for a moment. "About a year now. She's amazing, Gaeul. You'd love her."

Consumed by jealousy, Gaeul's adoration morphed into a sinister obsession. With feverish determination, she vowed to erase Y/n's lover from the symphony of his life, leaving only the haunting echo of her own desire.

In the dim glow of her apartment, Gaeul's manic whispers mingled with the flickering light of monitors, plotting each move with meticulous precision.

"She doesn't deserve you, Y/n," Gaeul muttered to herself, her voice trembling with rage. "I'll make sure she never comes between us again."

From subtle sabotage to calculated whispers of doubt, Gaeul waged a silent war against Y/n's relationship.

"Are you sure she's the one for you, Y/n?" Gaeul's words dripped with false concern, her eyes gleaming with malice.

Y/n frowned, confusion clouding his features. "Why do you keep saying that, Gaeul? She's been nothing but good to me."

As the days blurred into nights, Gaeul's obsession consumed her, a wildfire devouring reason and morality.

But in her fervent pursuit, Gaeul failed to heed the warning signs of her own descent into madness.

"Y/n, please," Gaeul pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation. "Choose me. I can make you happy in ways she never could."

"I'm sorry, Gaeul," Y/n replied softly, trying to maintain composure despite the fear building inside. "I can't just leave her like that."

Gaeul's pleading turned into a dangerous edge. "But she doesn't love you like I do. She doesn't understand you like I do. You belong with me."

Y/n took a step back, feeling the weight of Gaeul's words. "I appreciate your feelings, but I need to do what's right for both of us. You're an Idol Gaeul.. And I'm just a normal guy".

Gaeul's desperation turned into rage. "You're making a mistake, Y/n. She's manipulating you. Can't you see that?"

Y/n's heart raced as she realized the depth of Gaeul's obsession. "I... I need to go now."

Gaeul grabbed Y/n's arm, her grip tight and possessive. "You're not leaving until you choose me. I won't let her have you."

Fear gripped Y/n as she struggled against Gaeul's hold. "Let go of me, Gaeul. This isn't love, it's obsession."

Gaeul's eyes flashed with a manic intensity. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you mine, Y/n. Even if I have to get rid of her."

"What The... ". Y/n Tried to get rid of Gaeul but it didn't do a thing. Gaeul's Obsession for him has grown too far and she would do anything to make sure he stays for good.

"Just be a good boy... And let me take care of thingsss babe..... ". Gaeul slowly carress your cold skin, As she giggles and slowly kisses your forehead.

"YOU'RE MINE NOW... SLEEP TIGHT BABE".

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #sexy content #yandere #update #kpop yandere #ive gaeul #kim gaeul #yandere x reader #obbsessive

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gojhoes · 3 months

Text

Bleed Me Dry

*art from nerdreamer | *divider from benkeibearnever written anything like this before but yolo (also this art is PHENOMENAL)

- contents: sfw, college au, no jujutsu sorcerers/cursed spirits au, jumping on the vampire au train, gojo x reader (ofc), fem!reader, characters in their early 20s, mutual pining - warnings: stalking, bodily fluids, drugs and alcohol. - wc: ~4.3k

Have you ever met someone and felt that you knew them in the past life?

You'd never much cared for religion, nor did you think much about the possibility of an afterlife. There were too many denominations for a single one to be correct. Not at all worth the millennia of wars waged in the name of someone's God. How was a god supposed to be benevolent and holy when they inspire such violence? Yes, you were a cynic through and through, remaining skeptical of all things damned and divine.

But then you met Satoru Gojo, and all that stubborn disbelief fell to pieces.

It was the weekend before the beginning of your final year of college. You'd been dragged along to some party being thrown by a friend-of-a-friend's-friend to kick off the start of the semester. Shoko, your roommate and impromptu best friend, was crushing hard on one of the boys in some club of hers, and she'd asked you to join her as moral support.

Just like the venue, the party itself was nothing special. In someone's parents' house that was already well on its way to being trashed, the room smelled of marijuana and faintly of unpleasantly scented air freshener. You recognized a few people, as the university that you attended was a rather small private technical school. Everybody seemed to know everybody even if you considered yourself an introvert.

You and Shoko found yourselves sitting around a card table with several others amid a very serious drinking game. Shoko was trying her best, but the poor girl was already three shots in while you sat back and observed.

"Aren't you going to talk to him?" you encouraged, following Shoko's line of sight until it landed on a tall blonde leaning against the wall. He was good-looking with his broad shoulders and neatly groomed hair that complemented the glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose. You could easily see why Shoko was interested in him.

"He's tall," you commented.

Shoko was beaming, her eyes practically heart-shaped while she talked about him. "He goes by Nanami- we were in the same research group last semester. And he plays rugby."

Shoko was a Microbio major carving her path to medical school. If this mystery classmate took the same courses as her, then he must've been smarter than you'd originally given him credit for.

You grinned mischievously. “Go,” you said.

She gaped at you, her brown eyes wide with fear. “I can’t!”

You pushed her bodily with your hand on her back, urging her to go to talk to this Nanami. She stumbled a bit, already tipsy, and shot you a glare.

“Go," you insisted. "I'm going to find food.”

Ignoring Shoko's frustrated groan, you trickled over to the kitchen adjacent to the living room. You couldn't deny that you were bored, but leaving simply was not an option with how obsessed Shoko was with this guy. The kitchen was void of people, but someone had mercifully left out a fruit tray that appeared untouched in comparison to the picked-over coolers of beer. Working as a bartender had diminished your cravings for the stuff, so you avoided it wholly.

Just as you turned to re-enter the living room, you slammed right into something solid, a person, and let out a yelp. Your plate fell to the ground, the carefully chosen grapes bouncing in a thousand different directions. To your dismay, a good portion of them rolled underneath the fridge, out of reach and surely to rot later.

"Shit- I'm so sorry!" you cried, ducking down to immediately retrieve your fallen mess.

The victim of your attack kneeled beside you to help, which was a kind gesture, but it only helped to embarrass you further. You glanced up to apologize again, silently regretting every choice you'd made in your life thus far.

"You didn't have to-"

But the words stopped dead in your throat. Your victim was beautiful, breathtakingly so. Crystalline blue eyes that met yours, snow white hair brushing just above matching eyebrows. Ivory skin and pink lips that looked so soft and perfect it made your mouth go dry.

And then he smiled. "It's okay- I move quietly." He dropped a grape onto the half-crushed plate in your hand while you forced yourself to rise back to your full height. He followed suit, towering over you so much that you had to tilt your head to view his face.

But it wasn’t just his striking features that threw you so much- it was the familiarity, the nostalgia that flowed through you when you properly looked at him. In the moments that followed, you were able only to stare while you tried to recall just where you'd seen him before.

"Oh," he said, plucking the plate from your grasp. He turned and reached behind him to toss it into the trash with ease. His periwinkle button-up stretched across the expanse of his shoulders as he did so. You made yourself look away.

"Um," you cleared your throat. "Thanks."

He chuckled at that and extended his hand for you to shake. You couldn’t help but to notice the delicate nature of his long, pale fingers, reminding you much of a pianist’s. Your hands connected in the briefest handshake you’d ever participated in. His touch was cold, so much so that you couldn’t help but to jerk your hand away when the skin made contact.

Your eyes flicked up to his, illuminated blue in the dim light of the kitchen. You blinked as he held your gaze steadily, unable to shake that feeling that you’d seen him before. You were aware that you were staring at this point, but you were determined to recall this man's identity.

"Satoru," he said greeting. Not familiar, you thought.

You relayed your own name before asking, "Do I know you?"

Satoru tilted his head to the side, smirking as though he was in on some joke that you wouldn’t get. “I never forget a face, and I certainly wouldn’t forget yours.”

Even though the comment made you blush, you hummed. “Smooth. But seriously, weren't you in Dr. Kusakabe's organic chem class, like, last spring?"

"I can assure you that I have never seen you before," Satoru insisted. "Are you sure you just haven't been drinking too much?"

You scoffed at the accusation, a small smile tugging at your lips from his teasing. "No, I haven't been drinking, thank you very much. Somebody's got to keep my friend alive."

You glanced back at the fruit tray and immediately thought of those stupid grapes. "Do you see a broom anywhere?"

"I'm afraid those poor grapes are forever lost," Satoru said mournfully.

You let out a melodramatic sigh, smiling a little when you met his gaze once more.

His lashes fluttered, and then you saw him stiffen as though something suddenly pained him. Small, clammy hands landed on your bare shoulders, and you started, though you knew exactly who the offender was.

“Why are you hiding from me?” Shoko whined, her words slurring.

You pried her hands from your shoulders and peered down at her. She was swaying a little and the smell of liquor on her breath was all but apparent. You suddenly remembered your forgotten promise that you’d stick with her throughout the night, feeling a little guilty at the pouty expression on her face.

“Sorry, Shoko,” you said. “I was just looking for a snack.”

Shoko noticed Satoru then, who had taken a full step away while his fingers fluttered wildly by his side. So peculiar, you thought.

"Oh-" she hiccupped. "Hiii. I didn't see that she was talking to you."

Satoru didn’t reach out to shake her hand, you noticed, opting only to nod his head in greeting as he smiled in a way that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“No trouble,” he said fluidly. He then fixated his gaze back to yours, “If you’ll excuse me.”

He stepped out of the kitchen, and at least Shoko waited until he'd walked away to ask, "who was that?"

You shook your head as you watched him disappear into the throng of people scattered about the living room, stopping only when his white locks were no longer visible.

"Satoru."

The next week was spent with thoughts of Satoru scratching at the back of your head. During study breaks, you’d rack your brain trying to figure out where the fuck you knew him from. You were sure that you’d met him in the past; maybe he had been an elementary classmate? Maybe he worked at one of the local grocery stores or the café down the street? The possibilities were endless, but still, the mental search persisted. He even appeared in your dream the very night of the party, standing tall and fair with his back toward you.

Friday night was arguably the busiest at the bar. It was a flurry of drink orders, checking IDs, and straining to hear customers over the cacophony of voices. But you preferred the busy evening shifts– the bustle made the time fly. And it occupied your mind in a way that kept you from thinking about everything else, at least temporarily.

But after the last call for alcohol, a lull finally fell into place, and you began with your housekeeping tasks. Small things such as wiping down the bar and prepping garnishes and the like. Mentally, you’d already clocked out and were at home watching the new episode of your favorite anime. You were distracted, not all the way present, and you had your back to the bar. That’s why you were startled when you turned around to see that Satoru had materialized on the other side.

You flinched and your eyes went wide as your hand flew to your chest as if to steady yourself. “Oh sh– hey, it’s you! You scared me.”

Satoru raised his hands and grinned wickedly. “Boo.”

Never mind that he hadn’t been anywhere near the bar in the five seconds it’d taken you to do a 360. But your heart rate returned to normal, and you drank in his appearance. Still gorgeous, even in the bar’s poor lighting. He wore a collarless black sweater with sleeves that were too long even for him, and a pair of gray slacks. The neutral tones made his blue eyes appear even brighter, seeming almost to glow.

“Aren’t you going to order something?” you asked teasingly. “It’s past last call, but I’m sure I can make an exception.”

Satoru purred, maintaining that wicked smile from before. “You’re too kind to me.”

“Please, I insist.” You cupped your hands around your mouth and leaned over the bar so that your fingers just barely were brushing the shell of his ear.

“It’s on the house,” you faux-whispered, trying to ignore the way his hair tickled your skin for the briefest of moments before you pulled away.

He swallowed, the first sign of hesitation you’d seen since meeting him. Not that you knew him well, but he otherwise moved so confidently and with such intention that the gesture seemed out of place on him.

“I’m afraid I don’t drink.”

“I can make you something virgin,” you urged, wiggling your eyebrows. You were being unnecessarily insistent, pushing a little hard, but you felt this inexplicable urge to impress him. To serve him...? It was your job, after all, to make drinks that people would enjoy.

And then he replied, his voice firm but not unkind, “I have to decline, but I deeply appreciate your offer.”

You sighed and made a point of overdramatizing your disappointment. “Some other time, then. I’ll get you something good to drink, just you wait.”

An unnamable expression flashed over his features, quickly replaced by another disarming smile. You weren’t sure if it was the dim lighting of the bar, but his pallor seemed more translucent than before, the color blending in with his pale hair. His eyes were nearly glowing, nearly burning and you found yourself trying to differentiate all the shades of blue within his irises before he cleared his throat, and you realized you had been staring.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, cursing the blush that crept high on your cheeks. “I just.. I swear that I’ve seen you before somewhere. It’s kind of driving me crazy.”

Satoru tilted his head in question, a mannerism of his that you’d picked up on. “Is that right?”

Okay, you were definitely into this guy, no doubt about it. How could you not be? He was insanely, unfairly attractive, and though you’d just met (SUPPOSEDLY), you couldn’t help but to feel that you were connected to him in some way. That was a scary thought, one you shoved down before it could fester along with your other delusions.

The bar where you worked was close to campus and being part of a chain, its main demographic for business was students. It was a simple coincidence for Satoru to be there. Maybe that’s where you knew him from- it wasn’t a total impossibility; you'd served thousands of people since starting there.

“When are you off?”

You glanced down at the small watch face adorning your wrist, pretending to squint as anxiety slithered into your gut. Guys had asked you that same question in the past after mistaking good bartending for flirting. Satoru was charming, but he was still a stranger, and it was already well past 2am. But something about him pulled trust out of you like it was nothing. Like he was luring you in, a moth drawn to a flame.

“30 minutes,” you replied truthfully. “Maybe longer, depending on the crowd.”

"I want to take you to a cafe down the street," he said. "It's open all night, and I'm sure you must be starving after such a long shift."

Your stomach tattled on you before you got the chance to respond, growling loudly at the prospect of eating- you'd neglected to do so before coming in almost eight hours ago.

“I couldn't impose-”

He smiled at you as your words trailed off, and that voice in your head telling you to be careful was far too distant as you felt your resolve falter. “I insist.”

So at exactly three o'clock, standing with his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall was Satoru. He lifted his head when he heard the door open, smiling once he realized that it was you. You'd be a fool to deny how pretty he was when he looked at you like that.

“Shall we?” you said once you were standing at his side.

“Of course. It’s only a block or two.”

You turned to your right, moving to take the first step of many, when a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist. It couldn't have been colder than 60 degrees Fahrenheit, but even through your sleeve, you could feel the frigid cold of his fingers. You gasped at the sudden touch, flicking your eyes up to his, which were likely wide with alarm.

“Ah, ah,” Satoru said, releasing you from his grasp. “This way.”

You tried not to let show how freaked out that made you, blaming it on how quickly he’d moved to stop you. But he carried on nonchalantly as though it was something he did with everyone- perhaps, he did, if you thought about it. You focused only on following him dutifully and nothing else as he led the way.

"Do you always work nights?" he asked, breaking through the buzz of your overthinking.

You nodded, grateful for him breaking the silence. "My roommate says I'm crazy, but I prefer it. I take classes in the evenings, too, so I'm usually sleeping during the day."

Satoru held the door for you, gesturing widely as you passed over the threshold. You plucked a menu from the pocket by the door, vaguely recognizing the restaurant's logo; it was a simplified portrait of a dryad.

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “I feel like I’ve been here before. Maybe in high school…”

Satoru chuckled. “It’s only been open for about a year. Maybe you should get those false memories checked out.”

"Ha-ha."

You could feel his eyes on the back of your head like two pinpricks of ultraviolet light as you escorted yourself to an open table. He slid gracefully into the booth across from you, folding his legs in a way that couldn't be comfortable under the too-short table. You laid the menu flat as you peered over it.

"What's good here?" you asked.

Swiftly, he replied, "Everything. Plus, you can never go wrong with chicken tenders."

"This is true."

You decided on a ham and Emmental baguette and a glass of cherry juice -they actually had it!-, opting to keep it simple. You noticed that Satoru hadn't grabbed a menu himself, but thought better than to comment on it. Besides, who were you to pry into the specifics of someone else's eating habits?

You slipped the straw dipped in your drink between two fingers, toying with it nervously. "So, what year are you?"

"Ah, I just graduated," Satoru replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "And you're a senior, right?"

Your eyebrows knit together as you tilted your head to the side just slightly. "How'd you know?"

Satoru didn't miss a beat. "You had that look about you at the party. And since you're old enough to bartend, I filled in the blanks."

When he put it that way, the logic seemed sound enough for you to safely dismiss it without a second thought.

"Quite the sleuth, are you?" you teased.

Satoru chuckled breathily. Before either of you could ask any more questions, your food magically appeared before you. Neither of you had indicated that this was a date, but you still wanted to at least try and appear well-mannered, so you ignored the urge to fall upon the sandwich.

"Are you sure you don't want some?" you asked, holding the half out to him.

Satoru raised a hand. "No, thank you, I ate not too long ago. Please, go on."

"I just feel bad."

But you figured it would be more rude to continue pestering him, so you decided just to suck it up and eat. You were starving anyway. You sunk your teeth into the sandwich, but you misjudged the force necessary to bite through the thick bread. Sharp pain lanced through your tongue and a familiar tanginess flooded your mouth.

"Fuck," you muttered. "Bit my tongue."

As politely as you could, you brought a napkin to your mouth and spit into it before folding it neatly to hide the blood. “Sorry.”

Satoru's eyes had grown wide as he stared down at the napkin. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and you suddenly grew more embarrassed. Had you really grossed him out that much? It was just a little blood and it wasn't exactly a Michelin star restaurant.

But as though you imagined it, that discomfort morphed into a smile so radiant you forgot he'd been unsettled in the first place. The bleeding stopped, thankfully, and you slowly but steadily made your way through the sandwich. While you ate, you and Satoru passed questions and answers back and forth like a badminton game.

He'd declined your offer to make him a drink and was refusing to eat anything now, but you thought little of it until you watched as he took the smallest sip from his glass of water. He made a face as though it tasted utterly foul. It was city water, after all, but he looked physically unwell after setting the glass back on the table.

“Are you okay?” you asked. “You look a little pale.”

He shook his head, making the stands of his white hair bounce comically. “Just tired. I didn’t expect to be out so late.”

You couldn’t deny the little stab of disappointment that shot through you, though your watch did read a quarter-to-four. Sure, you were off tomorrow, but that didn't mean that Satoru wasn't.

“Oh,” you said. “Well, I’m ready anytime, then.”

The second you place your dishes at the end of the table, Satoru sprung out of his spot in the booth and started for the door. His height must've been the reason he moved so fast, and you had to scramble out of the booth and run to catch up with him. You grabbed your coat from the rack and shrugged it on before following him through the door.

You turned to look at Satoru to somehow gauge the state of his wellbeing, only to catch him staring at you with stormy eyes and parted lips. Weren't you going to ask him something? But then he blinked away the intensity you'd seen, a placid expression replacing it instantly.

“One second," Satoru quickly added. “Wait here.”

He bolted back inside like a bullet from a gun, furiously jangling the bunch of bells that hung above the inside of the door. So, you waited, poking your head through the window to see just what he was doing. He was standing over the table where you'd both been seated just a minute before, but you couldn't see much more than that. He must've forgotten something, or maybe he just wanted to give his compliments to the chef- or something.

"Forgot my wallet," he said in explanation once he'd joined you at your spot by the curb. You nodded as he confirmed your first theory.

Satoru had both of his hands shoved into his pockets precariously as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. It seemed childish at first, but that quickly turned to endearment when you realized that he was nervous. "Would you want to do this again sometime?"

You smiled at him, touched by how sweetly he'd worded the question. You reached out to touch him in some way so he knew your next words were sincere, but he stood in a way that would've made it painfully awkward to do so, so you let your arm fall limp at your side.

"If you ever want to grab a bite, I'll be awake." you answered before the two of you parted ways for good.

All you knew was that you wanted to see him again, wanted to see this strange man you'd met by chance and break past his walls and excessive smiles. And you wanted him to tell you where you'd seen him before- maybe you were delusional, but you had an inkling that he knew exactly what you'd been talking about.

What you didn't know was that Satoru had followed you for the entirety of your walk home, slipping in and out of the shadows as he debated whether to reach for you. Sitting across from you in the booth had been torturous, especially once you'd bitten your tongue. The napkin that now sat in his pocket seemed to burn a hole straight through to the bone. Any of your blood would have long since dried, but it was yours, and for now, it would have to do.

His hand hovered over the doorknob- hadn't anyone taught you to always lock your door? He heard you shuffling around inside, the clinking of drinking glasses and silverware being put away. The mundanity of you tidying your kitchen was a slap in his face. You were still living, still warm-bodied and radiant. Not cursed, as he was, with a full life ahead of you that would end peacefully. There would come a day when you would close your eyes and they would not again open. It would be completely and utterly selfish of him to do something as stupid as tampering with something as precious as your life.

But the urge persisted, as it had for months, inspiring the most selfish ideals he’d ever before been plagued with. And that selfishness was what made him believe that he truly was a monster deserving of his fate. That selfishness made him into who he was.

If he'd never seen you that night just a few short months before, he would've long since left this forsaken city. He wouldn't be trapped here by the longing he felt for you. He wouldn't be such a damned mess, going to parties and putting himself directly into situations he should be avoiding at all costs. All the lies and the hiding started to add up after a while; soon he’d be so deeply intwined in a wreck of a story that would be too much to keep up with. He’d slip up eventually; he always did.

The party had been the absolute last straw. Suguru had advised him not to go, but Satoru was a social creature, and he still enjoyed bantering and foolishness as he had during his waking life. And as was commonplace as of late, anywhere you went, so would Satoru, because that's just the type he was.

He had not planned on getting as close as he did though. Quite literally, you’d been on top of him even if it was for only a second. But it had been enough to break through the delicate semblance of control he’d had hanging by a thread. The sheer pleasure he got from your scent alone was something he’d learned he needed; it was more than a want. Even now, the bits of you he could pick up on through the door had some kind of trancelike effect on him.

But as Satoru turned his back to your apartment, fists clenched by his sides from the sheer amount of effort it took, he admitted to himself that Suguru had been right. He shouldn't have gone, because it sealed the fact that his every moment would be consumed by thoughts of you.

Confession: I ship Shoko and Nanami SO HARD. They're both water signs, too. I love symbolism and foreshadowing more than anything else in this world.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #modern au #college au #vampire au #gojo headcanons #gojo x reader fluff #gojo fluff #nanami kento #shoko ieiri #suguru geto #gojo x you

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zvaigzdelasas · 7 months

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youtube

Regrettably history for some media and politicians start when Israelis are killed. Our people have endured one deadly year after another, we came to the security council month after month warning of the consequences of Israeli impunity and international inaction. Last october, about a year ago, we stated before the security council the Palestinian people will be free one day or another - one way or another. We chose the peaceful way, the one the international community advocates for. Do not let Israel prove us wrong - for our sake and theirs. This is not a time to let Israel double down on its terrible choices; this is a time to tell Israel it needs to change course - that there is a path to peace where neither Palestinians nor Israelis are killed - and it is the one diametrically opposed to the one Israel is embarked on.

Israel keeps saying the blockade and repeated assaults on gaza are to destroy Hamas military capabilities and ensure security - clearly and expectedly its blockade and assaults accomplished neither. The only thing they did accomplish was inflicting terrible suffering on an entire civilian population. It is time for an immediate end to the violence and the bloodshed, and it is time to end this blockade and to open a political horizon. When Israel now tries to justify yet another assault by the same faulty premise, no one should say or do anything to encourage it down this path - we know only too well that the messages about Israel's right to defend itself will be interpreted by Israel as licensed to kill - to pursue on the very path that led us here: 370 and the number is rising by the moment of Palestinians that have been killed already in one day - including children, some barely a few months old - entire families were killed in their sleep. Will this bring security? will this advance peace?

Where is the international protection the Palestinian people is entitled to when the occupying power violates international law and harms those it is obliged to protect? are Palestinians lives worth saving? the Palestinian civilians killed - the Palestinian children killed - in occupied Palestine could have been spared. Isnt` that a moral and legal obligation and a contribution to peace? why nothing is done when those killed are Palestinians? we need to think hard of what logic we want to see prevail here. If this is about vengeance then many Palestinians will feel they have much to avenge. If this is about peace then the way to it is not through further entrenching oppression and occupation but by ending it. You cannot say nothing justifies killing Israelis and then provide justification for killing Palestinians. We are not subhumans. Let me repeat: we are not subhumans. We will never accept a rhetoric that denigrates our humanity and reneges our rights. A rhetoric that ignores the occupation of our land and oppression of our people. There is no right to security that trumps the right of a nation to self-determination. The fulfillment of our right to self-determination is the only path towards shared peace and security. We chose the peaceful path to achieve our rights, but Israel continued using blunt force against Palestinian lives and Palestinian rights. Israel cannot wage a full scale war on a nation - its people, its land, its holy sites - and expect peace in exchange. One needs to address the root causes of the conflict and by doing so we will be addressing its consequences. We have been calling for a different rationale, a different approach - justice not vengeance, freedom not occupation, peace not war. Our calls should be heeded. The alternative is playing out under our very eyes.

Israel has announced dozens of times that it had handled the Palestinian problem by war against our people, or peace with others - since 1948 till a few days ago in the statement of netanyahu in front of the general assembly. Netanyahu held during that speech in these United Nations a map denying the existence of Palestine - a map of aggression and annexation. To all the peacemakers to all those who believe in the un charter and international law: one cannot lose sight of the bigger picture. We need to stand up for the vision enshrined in the resolution of the security council and the general assembly, and to take the necessary measures to ensure compliance with their provisions. We need to uphold international law not abandon it.

Everybody in the room behind me who will be meeting in few minutes agree on the end end game. Israel expects and demands political and military support while advancing goals that are fundamentally at odds with international legitimacy and consensus. Its policies are an assault on our humanity, on international law, on peace, and are a threat for its own people. Can those supporting Israel ignore its colonialist and racist agenda? that would be self-defeating.

A different path is possible - I repeat, a different path is possible - but it cannot ignore the lives and rights of the Palestinian people. It must guarantee them equal measures of freedom and security. You cannot stand for peace if you do not stand up to occupation. Do it because it is the right thing to do - morally, legally, politically, and because it will save lives. Peace will save lives because it is the only way forward. I thank you very much.

#Youtube

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obsessive-valentine · 3 months

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Would a platonic yandere Ares. X F reader because in the myths he is very much giving girl dad

Platonic!Ares + Daughter!Reader

Ares is already protective and great yandere material so I don’t think this is to ‘ooc’ but having to raise a daughter definitely brings out his softer side.

Ares is definitely a good dad, in fact amazing compared to most other gods. He actually killed Poseidon’s son for abusing one of his daughters and he’d do all that and much more for you.

Maybe you were his daughter from Aphrodite but had to live under you fathers care once she had to return to her husband Hephaestus. Or maybe you were born to a human mother but either way I do see him insisting he raise you on Olympus to keep you out of trouble. Especially due to his tendency to wage conflicts amongst humans.

Having a daughter around would bring him a lot of amusement, he encourages havoc and freedom, and comes of as a very laid back father letting you speak however and run around doing whatever you choose. He’s surprisingly empathetic and gentle with you, never did you feel unloved or out of place in your fathers care.

His favourite pass-time is watching you torment the servants. Or if you are a more polite child despite his encouragement to not be, he enjoys telling you stories of his battles as you sit in his lap curiously watching the people down on earth scurry around like ants.

He doesn’t subject you to any of his anger -it’s inevitable he get angry around you but never at you. He’s one of the least manipulative and controlling parents for sure, he doesn’t need to be worried when everyone knows you’re the daughter of the most temperamental gods representing the brutal spirit of battle.

But just because he doesn’t aim any anger or harm towards you doesn’t mean he shields you eyes from the chaos and destruction he causes. I actually see him influencing you from a early age to be desensitised to the battles and deaths he has a hand in.

Some days you sit with your father watching over the battles, laughing and commentating like it’s some sport. He’s refused to marry or have close friends because people oppose him so readily due to his crass morals, but with you, you adore your father and enjoy anytime you spend with him even if it’s listening to his war plans or grumble about his enemies.

In a world that he feels a lot of indifference or hate towards you are a fresh perspective, a young mind. Most of his days are spent with you in his company, often asking about your thoughts on a matter or using your chatter take his mind off a matter.

Other times he amuses you and teaches you to spar or use a weapon. Obviously since you were a child you learned to fight, after you could walk he was already indoctrinating the spirit of fight in you by very gently play fighting you but now your older he takes it seriously. With you he can joke and crack a few laughs but when teaching you to fight he becomes stern.

Of course that’s the only thing he makes you do. You choose to be in his presence and he lets you talk to who you want because he knows that they know he’s always watching and ready to start a war amongst the gods if anyone even speaks to you in the wrong way.

Like your father you’re not widely worshiped but definitely known amongst gods and humans, he makes no effort to hide you but rather for people to be weary of you and be on their best behaviour -because dads always not to far behind.

#yandere #+reader #Ares #Ares god of war #Platonic Ares

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ilynpilled · 9 months

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GRRM on morality, heroism, villainy, and parallax in ASOIAF:

Time magazine wrote of you, “What really distinguishes Martin and what marks him as a major force for evolution in fantasy is his refusal to embrace a vision of the world as a struggle between good and evil.” Do you agree?

I think the struggle between good and evil is central to fantasy and, indeed, in some ways, central to most fiction. It's certainly a worthy subject for fiction. But I regard the struggle between good and evil as being waged within the individual human heart. […] You know, the greatest monsters of history, as we look back on them, thought they were the heroes of the story. You know, the villain is the hero of the other side, as sometimes said. That doesn't mean that it's all morally relative. That doesn't mean that all things are equally good and evil. I think there is good and there is evil in the world. But you know, it's sometimes a struggle to tell one from the other and to make the right choices. I've always been attracted to great characters, maybe because that's what I see when I look around the real world, whether I read about it in history books or the news or just people I meet. I mean, all of us have it within ourselves to be heroes. All of us have it within ourselves to be villains. We've all done good things in our lives, and most of us have also done selfish things, cowardly things, things that we're ashamed of in later years. And to my mind, that's, I don't know, the glory of the human race. We're such wonderfully contradictory, mixed-up creatures that we're endlessly fascinating to write about and read about.

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In your work, you have essentially captured Mikhail Bakhtin's concept of polyphonic fiction, where the characters are equal, and the reader can root for any of them. This has been impossible to convey on the TV series.

I wouldn't say all the characters are equal, but they have (hopefully) human traits, especially the viewpoint characters. I have seven viewpoint characters in the first book, and each book has a few more. So, by now, we're probably up to 12 or 13 viewpoint characters, and those are the ones where I go actually inside their skin, so you're seeing the world through their eyes. You're hearing their thoughts. You're feeling their emotions. And I try to paint over those viewpoint characters, and some of them are noble and just, and some of them are kind of selfish, and some of them are very intelligent, and some of them are less intelligent and even stupid. But they're all human, and I want to portray their humanity. […] I think the battle between good and evil is fought all over the world, every day, in the individual human heart, as we all struggle with the choices that define us and define our lives. And we have to choose what we are going to do, and sometimes the choice is not easy; it's not this absolute juxtaposition of the good guys and the bad guys. And I wanted to get to that with my characters, and show some of the difficulties that they face.

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Another element I liked about the series was the moral relativism of many of the characters. Too many Fantasies rely on the shorthand of truly evil villains in the absolute moral sense, but your characters, while they might commit terrible acts, generally do so either from short-sighted self-interest or because they truly believe they are acting for the best. Was this a deliberate decision, or is it just more interesting to write this way?

Both. I have always found grey characters more interesting than those who are pure black and white. I have no qualms with the way that Tolkien handled Sauron, but in some ways The Lord of the Rings set an unfortunate example for the writers who were to follow. […] Before you can fight the war between good and evil, you need to determine which is which, and that's not always as easy as some Fantasists would have you believe.

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Do you purposely start a character as bad so you can later kill them?

No. What is bad? Bad is a label. We are human beings with heroism and self-interest and avarice in us and any human is capable of great good or great wrong. In Poland a couple of weeks ago I was reading about the history of Auschwitz - there were startling interviews with the people there. The guards had done unthinkable atrocities, but these were ordinary people. What allowed them to do this kind of evil? Then you read accounts of acts of outrageous heroism, yet the people are criminals or swindlers, one crime or another, but when forced to make a choice they make a heroic choice. This is what fascinated me about the human animal.

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Martin's realm is not one of unambiguous heroes and villains. His characters, from royals to peasants, tend to be ethically mutable. So-called good people, like the noblemen Ned Stark, his son Robb Stark or the indomitable Daenerys Targaryen ("the Mother of Dragons"), make terrible mistakes - out of weakness, pride or an overly rigid sense of right and wrong. And horrible people, like Jaime Lannister, known as "the Kingslayer," do terrible things and then, over the course of several books, reveal themselves to be capable of heroism and sacrifice.

As we're discussing this in the theater, Martin quotes Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar" from memory: “The evil that men do lives after them ;/ The good is oft interred with their bones.” Then he adds his own version: “We shouldn't forget about the evil that good men do. But we shouldn't forget about the good either,” he says. “I do think a society needs heroes. They don't have to be flawless.”

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Your books have a very strong storyline associated with the atonement of sins. For example, the way of Jaime Lannister, do you yourself believe in karma?

I don’t believe in karma per se, although sometimes I have my doubts because sometimes I think I see things that could be explained by karma. But no, I don’t really have any beliefs in the supernatural. I do believe in the possibility of redemption. And I believe that human beings, all human beings, are grey. And I try to remember that when I write my characters. We are all heroes, we are all villains, we all have the capacity for great good and we all have the capacity to do things that are selfish and evil and wrong. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference. In your lifetime, you can be both. And it’s making choices that defines us as human beings. There’s this sensation of compartmentalism. This eagerness to judge everybody based on the worst thing they ever did, not the best thing they ever did. And you know, I think Shakespeare in "Julius Caesar" wrote “The evil that men do lives after them ;/ The good is oft interred with their bones.” And sadly that’s true. And I think it should be the reverse. We should remember the good things and the noble things that people did, and forgive them for their failures and moments of selfishness or wrongdoing because we all have them. When we forgive them, we are essentially forgiving ourselves. Redemption should be possible.

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Are there any characters that you've kind of fallen out of love with, that you just don't, you know, get excited about any more?

I still love all the characters. Even some of them who aren't very lovable. At least the viewpoint characters. When I'm writing in the viewpoint of one of these characters, I'm really inside their skin. So, you trying to see the world through their eyes to understand why they do the things they do. And we all have, even characters who are thought of to be bad guys, who are bad guys, in some objective sense, don't think of themselves as bad guys. […] “What evil can I do today?” Real people don't think that way. We all think we're heroes, we all think we're good guys. We have our rationalizations when we do bad things. “Well, I had no choice,” or “It's the best of several bad alternatives,” or “No it was actually good because God told me so,” or “I had to do it for my family.” We all have rationalizations for why we do shitty things or selfish things or cruel things. So when I'm writing from the viewpoint of one of my characters who has done these things, I try to have that in my head. And I do, so there's an empathy there that makes me love even people like Victarion Greyjoy, who is basically a dullard and a brute. But, he feels aggrieved and sees the world a certain way. And Jaime Lannister and Theon Greyjoy, they all have their own viewpoints. I love them all. Some I love more than others, I guess.

Who do you think to be the most important characters?

They're all important. I don't favor them, or I don't think of them in terms of importance. The viewpoint characters in the first book I have are Bran, Tyrion, Catelyn, Ned, Jon Snow, the two girls Arya and Sansa. There is the core of the Stark family plus Tyrion to represent the Lannister family. Then I have Dany on the other side of the sea, Daenerys Targaryen, whose story runs parallel and some ways doesn't connect to the others, but some day I'll eventually bring those two stories together. In each subsequent volume I drop some of my viewpoint characters and add new ones. Although the same core still dominates, the cast changes somewhat, and I like to do that. In the third volume which you haven't gotten to yet (he refers to me) I have a new viewpoint character. He's been a major character, but now you see things for the first time through his eyes. Which I think changes your perception of things somewhat. I like to play that kind of game, because we all have our own way of looking at the world. Something occurs and two people witness it. They might have very different versions of what happened, and very different explanations. I like to play with parallax in my fiction, and get different versions of the same thing.

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A Song of Ice and Fire has much of the complex texture of authentic history, both generally and in its specific echoes of actual historical episodes. What laws and principles (if any) in your view govern human history, and how has your understanding of historical processes shaped the series?

Historical processes have never much interested me, but history is full of stories, full of triumph and tragedy and battles won and lost. It is the people who speak to me, the men and women who once lived and loved and dreamed and grieved, just as we do. Though some may have had crowns on their heads or blood on their hands, in the end they were not so different from you and me, and therein lies their fascination. I suppose I am still a believer in the now unfashionable "heroic" school, which says that history is shaped by individual men and women and the choices that they make, by deeds glorious and terrible. That is certainly the approach I have taken in A Song of Ice and Fire.

A Song of Ice and Fire undergoes a very interesting progression over its first three volumes, from a relatively clear scenario of Good (the Starks) fighting Evil (the Lannisters) to a much more ambiguous one, in which the Lannisters are much better understood, and moral certainties are less easily attainable. Are you deliberately defying the conventions and assumptions of neo-Tolkienian Fantasy here?

Guilty as charged. The battle between good and evil is a legitimate theme for a Fantasy (or for any work of fiction, for that matter), but in real life that battle is fought chiefly in the individual human heart. Too many contemporary Fantasies take the easy way out by externalizing the struggle, so the heroic protagonists need only smite the evil minions of the dark power to win the day. And you can tell the evil minions, because they're inevitably ugly and they all wear black. I wanted to stand much of that on its head. In real life, the hardest aspect of the battle between good and evil is determining which is which.

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When you are writing the different conflicts in Westeros, do you personally pick a side? Or feel that one side fights for a more just cause than the other?

Yes, certainly. I mean, I’ve often said that I believe in grey characters, I don’t believe in black and white characters. But that’s not to say that all characters are equally grey. You know, some are very dark grey, and some are mostly white but they still have occasional flaws. I’ve always been fascinated by human beings and all of their complexity— even human beings that do appalling things, you know, the question is ‘Why?’ And it’s interesting to get inside their head and see why. Some of my viewpoint characters have done some incredibly reprehensible things: Theon, for example, or Victarion Greyjoy. Why? Were they born a monster? Weren’t they born like a cute little kid wanting to be loved and all that? We all start out that way, right? But things happen to us on the way that lead to junctures in our lives where we make decisions, and those decisions and the consequences of them color everything that comes after. You look at [historical figures] and what’s the verdict on these men? Are they heroes, are they villains? Are they great people, or people we should despise? I mean, they are fascinating characters because of their complexity.

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“I don't concern myself over whether my characters are “likeable” or “sympathetic.” (I had my fill of that in television). My interest is in trying to make them real and human. If I can create a fully-fleshed three-dimensional character, some of my readers will like him/her, or some won't, and that's fine with me. That's the way real people react to real people in the real world, after all. Look at the range of opinions we get on politicans and movie stars. If EVERYONE likes a certain character, or hates him, that probably means he's made of cardboard. So I will let my readers decide who they like, admire, hate, pity, sympathize with, etc. The fact that characters like Sansa, Catelyn, Jaime, and Theon provoke such a wide range of reactions suggests to me that I have achieved my goal in making them human.”

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“You want the reader to care about your characters — if they don’t, then there’s no emotional involvement. But at the same time, I want my characters to be nuanced, to be gray, to be human beings. I think human beings are all nuanced. There’s this tendency to want to make people into heroes and villains. And I think there are villains in real life and there are heroes in real life. But even the greatest heroes have flaws and do bad things, and even the greatest villains are capable of love and pain and occasionally have moments where you can feel sympathetic for them. As much as I love science fiction and fantasy and imaginative stuff, you always have to go back to real life as your touchstone and say, ‘What is the truth?’”

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