#truly is there anything more human than using free time as an excuse to create art | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leopardmask-ao3 · 2 years

Text

NHHP 2022 Day 3: Fungal Ferocity

Link to the challenge Today’s Word is: Mushrooms Characters: Pearl Season: Hermitcraft 9 Other tags/warnings: Fun with Minecraft 1.19! Word Count: 830

Summary: Pearl has taken on the task of studying alien life, and the sculk is as alien as it gets.

Or, an excuse to lay out a bunch of my personal headcanons about sculk.

Read this on ao3 or

Pearl's boots echoed as she approached the edge of the Deep Dark. Even before she alerted it, the dark green of the sculk seemed to naturally absorb the torchlight. Pearl quieted her footsteps, inched closer, and found a place to sit.

Pearl had started her research station as a bit of a joke. The hermits were a lovely bunch of oddballs, with Keralis in particular acting even more strangely around her recently, but she hadn't really planned on using her build theme to mess with them. The sculk, though, felt truly alien.

Which, of course, was why she was down here researching it.

Pearl started with a sketchpad. The sculk shifted subtly over time, and she wanted to document that first before she started taking samples.

She had only scratched a few strokes of her quill when a harsh screeching sound rang out across the cavern. Pearl glared in disgust at the dense blackness that swallowed her work. "Really?" she complained over the shriek. "That was barely anything."

She blinked hard a few times, waiting impatiently for her eyes to start working properly again, then softly sighed and moved to a different location, this time checking for shriekers in the vicinity before sitting down to draw.

Sketches done. Time for samples. Pearl ventured out onto the bed of sculk.

She cut a sensor free first, its tentacle-like protrusions waving frantically and setting off a shrieker. Strike one.

Next, the veins of sculk itself. Harvesting the base sculk network didn't set anything off, but cutting through it with her hoe felt... unexpected. Definitely not like pulling up a plant, or even its roots. Pearl ran her fingers through it, noting the spongy texture that had wrapped around and crumbled stone and- was that bone?

Only shards were left, but it looked like the bones of a small animal - probably a bat. Pearl put the sculk veins away and inspected the shrieker.

It didn't react to her touch. More bones had been turned into the structures that protruded from the top and protected the sensitive substance within. And those bones did look human...

Or zombie, Pearl reminded herself. It could have been a zombie.

The swirling stuff in the middle caught her attention. It looked like a liquid. Pearl dipped a finger in it.

The shrieker didn't like that. Strike two.

Pearl shivered and futilely glanced around as her sight failed again. Finishing her thought, she stuck her finger in her mouth to taste the sculk juice.

A cacophony of whispers momentarily crescendoed in her mind. Pearl hissed in more surprise than maybe she should have had. She almost expected to see souls swirling against the blackness, like the small floating shapes sometimes seen in one's eye, but even those, if they were present, were not visible.

Pearl's vision returned at the same moment that the whispers vanished. She hastily cut the shrieker free, careful not to touch the center again, and continued inward.

Moments later, an unnoticed sensor picked up her footsteps through the sculk network. A shrieker wailed.

Strike three.

Pearl flinched at the creaking, grinding, pulling sound. In that moment, she realized it wasn't the sound of digging at all, nor of cracking stone, nor anything that would indicate that the Warden had existed before she got there. The visceral sounds near her were the sounds of a Warden being created.

She held her breath. The Warden's relationship with the sculk network would be a great thing to study... if she survived long enough to see the Warden.

A sound, like the buildup of energy.

Pearl activated her elytra and jumped.

A deafening boom sent her tumbling. She barely righted herself as her vision restarted, and hastily rocketed up to a ledge high above the mat of sculk.

Now that she was high above the action - and out of range - Pearl could watch the Warden move its head back and forth, trying to detect her. She could probably kill it safely from up here, and collect samples from its corpse... but what if she wasn't far enough away? The sonic blast would kill her.

Pearl set down an ender chest, and put everything in it except for her bow and arrow. Just in case.

As soon as the Warden fell, Pearl was eager to jump down to it, only barely remembering to put her elytra back on first. And her haste was justified, because by the time she landed, there was hardly anything left of the form of the Warden. The sculk had reabsorbed its hunter, leaving only a few lumps where bones hid underneath, an oddly-formed shrieker, and-

Pearl swiftly cut the remains of the Warden's head from the sculk. She was pretty sure her theory about the Warden being part of the network had been proven now, but she still wanted this, just in case.

A few steps, and the shrieker that had once been the Warden's chest cavity blasted its alarm.

Strike one. Time to go.

#nhh 2022 promptober #hermitcraft #my hc fic #pearlescentmoon #sculk headcanons

0 notes

demonsandco · 3 years

Note

hi!! i was wondering if you could do a headcannon of the brothers + dia, barb and simeon reacting to mc asking if they could do it in their demon/angel forms?

I sure hope that by “demon form” you meant my version of their forms, because only after I finished writing, did I remember that they have canonical demon forms, too, woops! But Simeon doesn’t have a non-human form in-game so hopefully I was right gjhfkfjh

Lucifer : It’s a rare occurrence to see Lucifer speechless, yet somehow they’ve managed to stun him into silence with a single request. Being intimate in his demon form isn’t something that’s even crossed his mind before, not seeing his true form as anything more than a tool for intimidation. With too many eyes, elongated limbs, and crisscrossing scars highlighted by patches of missing feathers, he truly doesn’t understand what they see in him to pick that over his much more palatable, human form. Yet, despite his initial shock and hesitance, he can’t find it in him to deny their request. If they really want to see his true form, especially in such an intimate setting, then he’ll humor them, but the entire time he’s preparing himself for some sort of rejection, expecting them to flinch away from his touch or to ask him to switch back. He’s astonishingly vulnerable in this form, and craves a positive reaction from them.

(cont under the cut)

Mammon : When he hears their request, Mammon’s relief is palpable. Having sex in his human from has always felt distant to him, as though he were wearing a costume or a skin tight suit. He’s desperate to feel their hands on his demon form, often fantasising about how their hands would feel running across his wings or buried in his feathers, but, while he may have not so subtly hinted at his desires in the past, he’s never had the courage to initiate such a thing himself. He’s immensely excited about their request, so excited in fact that he’s prepared to stop whatever he was doing and drag them off to somewhere private to have his way with them. It also encourages him to spend more time in his demon form around them, now that he knows that it won’t scare them away.

Leviathan : Levi’s knee-jerk reaction is to say no right off the bat. As much as he trusts his partner, he can’t help but think that there’s some sort of ulterior motive behind the request, refusing to believe that anyone would actually want to see his demon form, much less touch it in such an intimate way. While his true form grants him confidence and immeasurable power, in a relationship, it becomes his biggest insecurity. It takes a lot of patience and encouragement to convince him to go through with it, and even then he’s hesitant to even touch them, worried that they’ll think he’s creepy or gross and change their mind. It doesn’t help that he’s practically useless on land and that they’d need to join him in the water to comfortably have sex. He’s understandably nervous, but praise and affection go a long way in easing his worries, and once he gets a taste of how nice it feels, he finds himself asking them to be intimate in his demon form more often.

Satan : Satan isn’t all that surprised by their request. In fact, he’d been expecting it to come up sooner or later. After all, he wants to know every intimate detail about his partner, to see them in their most vulnerable state, so he assumes that they’d eventually want to get to know his true form intimately, as well. He feels some anxiety, of course, his demon form not exactly being human friendly, all rough skin and sharp edges, but he does a good job at keeping his fears at bay and enjoying the moment. It feels freeing, in a way, to have them accept him so readily, to allow something as monstrous as him so close in such a vulnerable moment. With every soft touch of their hands and kiss from their lips, he finds himself falling in love all over again. He craves their acceptance, and the fact that they can see him at his worst and still show him love speaks volumes.

Asmodeus : As much as he wants to tease his partner for having such a lewd suggestion, or to think of it as a chance to introduce them to something new and pleasurable, the only thing Asmo feels at their request is genuine fear. There is very little that he’s afraid of, but the idea of them rejecting him is terrifying, and he’s convinced himself that no one could possibly love him if they saw his true form. He’s very calculated in what parts of his demon form he lets people see, making sure he looks cute and unassuming at all times. He has no problems showing those parts of him to his partner, but the rest of his demon form isn’t anywhere near as cutesy, and he doesn’t want them to associate him with such an “ugly” appearance. Yet at the same time, he wants to be able to be himself around them, to have them see the parts of him that he’s kept hidden. It takes a lot of worry and hesitation, before he finally shows them his true form during sex, the shared lust giving him the push he needed. He’s so prepared for a negative response that their positive reaction is enough to make him melt against them.

Beelzebub : It’s not uncommon for Beel to be seen in a not quite human form around the house, his wings and horns unconsciously coming out while he eats or works out. Knowing this, he’s surprised that his partner has seen those parts of him and instead of being scared, they want to see more. He’s not the type of person to hide who he is to make himself more palatable. He trusts them to know what they want, and he takes their request at face value. At first, he didn’t think too much of it, but the moment he feels them touch his true form, watches them search for his most sensitive areas, he becomes addicted to the feeling. The fact that he’s even bigger than normal in this form excites him more than he thought it would, too, his massive frame making his partner seem tiny in comparison. Needless to say, he finds himself letting his demon form out during sex more often, both because he wants to feel their touch again and because he finds it more comfortable.

Belphegor : Belphie is genuinely surprised that they’d want anything to do with his demon form after how badly things went the first time they saw it. Hearing that they not only want to see it again, but that they want to see it in such a vulnerable moment is a relief to him. He’s always thought that actions speak louder than words, and he sees their request as a sign of trust, something he values greatly. He’s more than happy to show them his demon form, to let them explore his body and create new, much more enjoyable, memories. He also takes it as an invitation to show his demon form more often, taking every opportunity he can to let out his horns as he cuddles up to them or conveniently resting his tail within petting range. Now that he knows they’re not scared of his appearance, he wants them to associate his form with positive and intimate moments.

Diavolo : Diavolo is positively ecstatic to hear their request! He’s wanted to don his true form while being intimate with them since the start of their relationship, but he’s held back out of worry, not wanting to risk frightening them. Truthfully, he’s not too fond of maintaining a human appearance for so long, and he’s almost too excited to let out his demonic features. Hopefully, they had nothing else planned for the day, because he’s already got them wrapped up in his many wings, with his scaly face pressed against their neck. He plans to take his time with them, practically acting as though it was their first time together again, treating them like a priceless treasure in his clawed grasp, showing them everything he can do in his true form that a human could never hope to accomplish.

Barbatos : Barbatos has been waiting for them to ask this for quite a while, and he can’t keep the small smile off his face when they finally do. While he’s perfectly comfortable in his human form, he feels as though it greatly limits his abilities in the bedroom, and he hates to think that he’s not pleasing them to the best of his abilities. He knows that his true form isn’t something a human would be used to, though, so he waited until they were confident enough to bring it up themselves. He sees it as taking the next step in their relationship in a way, knowing that they not only are willing to accept him for what he is, but that they embrace it. With his extra limbs, slick tail and long, powerful tongue, he’s more than happy to show them how much more skilled he is at servicing them in this form, and he’s also surprised to realise just how sensitive his demonic appendages are.

Simeon : It’s rare for Simeon to feel the need to turn his partner down, but he finds himself initially denying their request when they first ask, coming up with some half baked excuses in an attempt to avoid hurting their feelings. Humans never seem to react well to an angel’s true form and he can’t bear to see them regard him with fear, especially not during such an intimate moment. While his angelic appearance may not be as monstrous as a demons, the extra limbs, many eyes and inhumanly tall frame are more than enough to make him look rather disconcerting. Yet at the same time, he doesn’t like the thought of hiding his true form from them, leaving him conflicted. With enough reassurance, he eventually feels comfortable enough showing them bits and pieces of his angel form at a time, and each night they spend together his human form slips away a bit more. At first it’s just his wings, letting his partner run their hands over his sensitive feathers and getting used to the extra limbs, before slowly showing them more of him. Soon enough, he reaches a point where letting out his angel form around them is like a habit, feeling like it makes their time spent together feel more intimate, especially now that he knows his looks alone won’t scare them away.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #rip sol he's just a regular ol human #angel form #demon form #obey me headcanons #lime time

1K notes · View notes

tartglias · 3 years

Text

Xiao, Zhongli and Venti with an immortal s/o

“Sooo 👀 can i request so some fluff hc for venti, xiao and zhongli with an immortal s/o?”

thank you so much for requesting!! this is my first time writing for more than one character at a time so it was a challenge lol thank you sm!!

Xiao

Xiao never understood the importance of time. Days, months, even years feel like nothing when you’re immortal. What a funny thing that is, immortality. He knows normal humans would do anything for it, and he despises them for that. Nothing so great came free, he knew that well. He was freed from tortures, only to get tormented by karma. He could still hear the voices and screams calling for help from tortured souls, these still haunt him daily. But the worst moments come when he sees that figure, that person who he once considered close. So close he could use the human word “soulmate”, if he believed in those, to describe who that person meant to him.

Many centuries back he met you, such a gentle person who got to break down his hard walls. A smile, a touch, a kiss. That’s all it took. So many meaningless years, and he never once encountered a person as kind yet strong like you. Someone who made the daily nightmares cease, with a simple smile and brush of fingers.

He remembers your last words like it was the day before. You were on top of one of the tall stones in Huaguang Stone Forest, Xiao laying his head on your lap and you placing small qingxin flowers on his hair. He wouldn’t allow anyone do that to him ever, but in the end, you were you. And you were different.

“Xiao” you called, once you were done placing the flowers. He opened his eyes and muttered a “hm?” in response. “I have to leave soon. Mondstadt calls me”

He sat up.

“What do you mean?”

“By tomorrow morning, I’ll be on my way back to Mondstadt” you said, quietly standing up.

He stood up too.

“When will I see you again?” he asked, now not being able to look at you.

“I don’t know” you said, reaching out for his hand and taking it. You placed a soft kiss on his knuckles, and he felt himself calm down at the gesture for a moment.

“I meant it when I said I’ll love you forever, Xiao” you said, finally locking eyes with him. You had teary eyes, he dreaded to see you like that. If it were up to him, he would swallow every bit of pain in your body and soul, just to see you smile.

And with that, you disappeared. As quickly as you broke down his walls, you disappeared just as quick the next day. Days, months and years became even more meaningless, but somehow he felt them longer. He missed you every day, he whispered to the moon every night, wishing that some archon would hear and bring you back to him. He knew you were like him, but he never heard from you again. Were you able to finally cross to the other side? He tried to erase those thoughts from his mind.

He later found himself in that very same stone, the one in which he last saw you. New Qingxin flowers blossomed, and they reminded him of you. He sat down, staring at the horizon. But then, he felt a strange swift of wind, and a presence behind him. He quickly stood up, ready to put his mask on and kill whoever dared to interrupt his solitude. But he didn’t. The mask in his hand dropped to the floor, next to the flowers.

“I’m back” you said, with a shy smile.

“You’re back” he said, more to himself than to you. Were you really there?

His question was soon answered, once you stepped closer and pulled him in a hug. He found himself wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close as he could, while trying to hold back his tears.

“I’m sorry I took so long, my beloved” you said as you locked your eyes with his. You grabbed his hand and held it, but you never once let go of the hug.

“I’m here to stay now” you whispered.

Zhongli

“You need to stop playing with people’s hearts” Zhongli said, as he sipped on his tea and looked at you questioningly. You rolled your eyes in response and put your focus back on your potion. A few petals from the most exotic flower in Teyvat, a little bit of juice made from vines and a teaspoon of slime condensate.

“Sometimes mortals need a little push in the right direction” You said, finishing up the mix and transferring it to a small bottle made of glass. “Plus, we’ve been here for centuries, I’m bored and I need a hobby”

“I don’t think that messing with human’s love lives can be considered a hobby. I don’t think it’s morally correct” he said.

“You’re very dramatic. I can feel the true desires of every being that touches the soil in Teyvat, and if I sense that the desire is mutual, I simply work my magic” You said, sitting back on your chair next to the tall man.

“Can’t you let them figure it out by themselves?” He asked.

“That’s no fun Zhongli” You said, finishing up the sweet perfume-potion you were creating.

You and Zhongli have been friends for centuries. You met when you moved to Liyue as the representative of the Dendro Archon, someone you really looked up to. Zhongli was kind enough to make you feel at home, and soon became friends with the Geo Archon. Though you must admit, you always wished it was something more.

Maybe that’s why you picked up this “hobby” of yours. Unrequited love is something painful and mortals only live a short life, you believe they should live it fully, if possible.

“Are you alright?” Zhongli asked, interrupting your thoughts with a concerned look on his face. You didn’t realize you had a sad look on yours.

“Oh? Yeah of course” You said, quickly brushing it off and proceeding decorating the small glass bottle.

“Y/n-“ he started, placing a hand on top of yours in order to get your attention. “I’ve known you for a long time. I know when something is wrong”

It was funny. He knew you like the back of his hand, he knew how to read you since the first time he laid his eyes on you. Yet he never found out how you truly felt about him, how your heart made like a million flips whenever he did something as simple as hold your hand, or brush a hair away from your face. All these little things and gestures, have been making you swoon over your closest friend for years, centuries even.

“Time and love are strange concepts, aren’t they?” You asked, looking straight at him. Here goes nothing, you thought.

“I believe those are rather simple concepts”

“You can spend a lifetime with someone, know every habit and expression but you don’t know how they truly feel about you” You said staring at him, searching for any hint that indicated he knew what you were talking about. But you saw nothing. Who were you kidding? He’s just your friend, has been for a long time.

You let out a defeated laugh, standing up and letting go of his hand. “Forgive me, I don’t really know what i’m saying” you said, grabbing the potion and starting to leave. But you felt his hand on your wrist, stopping your movements.

“You said you felt the desires of every being that stepped foot on Teyvat’s soil, am I right?” he asked, looking at you. You nodded. “Does it work on me?”

“You wanted to get close to me, as a friend”

“My apologies my dearest y/n, but I think your blessing is wrong” he said, standing up and holding your hand once again. “I did want to get closer to you as a friend at first, but not any longer. I’ve been observing mortals for a while as well, on my daily walks through Liyue Harbor, and I think I finally understood my feelings”

You were sure that if Zhongli listened close enough, he would hear the fast beating of your heart.

“I’ve been waiting for you to use your love potion on me, my dear y/n. I’m sure it wouldn’t have worked anyways since I believe it would take a lot of effort to make an effective potion that could work on me. But it would have given me the excuse to tell you how I really feel” he said.

“How do you feel then?” you asked him, looking up at the tall man.

“I think I’m very lucky to have you by my side, and it makes me want to travel to the Dendro nation and personally thank the Archon for assigning you to Liyue. I also want you to still be by my side for the centuries to come, if you’re okay with that” he said, lowering his voice by the end.

You acted before you could process your thoughts. You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his cheek gently, never letting go of his hand. He liked you, he felt the same way about you. It was real.

“I’m okay with that” you replied.

Venti

It was almost noon, almost an hour after the original time you accorded with Venti to meet. You planned a picnic date by the big tree near the statue of the Seven, your favorite spot. The same spot which later, became Venti’s favorite spot as well.

He wasn’t a person who would jump straight to conclusions. You were late. Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you couldn’t find the guitar you promised to bring so you could play a duet. Being late doesn’t mean something bad happened, right?”

He decided to wait a few more moments, but once the sun set, he had enough. He went out to try and find you. He went to your house, but noticed the door was locked and no one was inside. “They left” he thought.

He slowly but surely started to get desperate. Where were you? Were you hurt? Did you get lost somehow? He went to Angel’s Share, and not even Master Diluc had seen you. If Venti wasn’t in such a panicked state, he would have noticed the rare concerned and worried look Diluc had on his face.

If any traveler walked by literally any road in Mondstadt, they would soon encounter a big rush of wind. Venti went from here to there as fast as he could, trying to find you.

He soon enough found you in Stormbearer Mountains, fighting hilichurls and two pyro mages. You looked tired, sweat covering your body and your clothes were dirty. It was obvious that this has been going on for a while. You gripped your sword as hard as you could, and kept fighting. Why didn’t you call for him? With no exception, Venti tells you daily to call for him if you ever encounter a problem. It’s not that he doesn’t think you’re strong, oh no, he believed you were the strongest mortal in Teyvat. But in the end, to him you were still a mortal. Fragile and over-sensitive. He often told you to call his name, that the wind will carry it and he will appear there to help you out. So why didn’t you?

“y/n!” he screamed, once he laid his eyes on you. You turned around and saw a rush on wind, and felt his presence. What you didn’t feel though, was the pyro attack coming from one of the mages. The mage summoned three pyro artifacts that surrounded you, and burnt you. You felt your energy slip away, your head dizzy and your body burning. Then, you felt the cold wind, Venti quickly finishing off the mages and the remaining hilichurls.

Venti thought it was over. You were kneeled down, burnt skin, gasping for air. It was over, you were going to die. He felt his eyes water and fear running through his veins. He wrapped his arms around you, making you lean on his chest.

“Don’t leave me” he begged. “please”

“My dear, I don’t think I can” you said, letting out a short laugh.

“Please stay strong, I think I can carry you to the cathedral but you need to hold very still so-“ he started saying, now fully crying but you interrupted him by putting a hand on his cheek and wiping his tears with your thumb.

“I’m serious, I don’t think I can leave anyways. Venti, I literally can’t die.” you said, with a laugh and slowly standing up.

“You... you’re immortal?” he asked, looking up at you, not being able to leave the floor.

You nodded. “I thought you knew”

“I hate you” he said, standing up and wiping away his tears. “I do”

“No you don’t. But you’re cute though!” you said, grabbing his face and kissing the tip of his nose. “I’m very sorry I’m late though, my commission took longer than I thought but let me compensate you with dinner and a bottle of wine”

“But you’re still burnt?” he asked you, concern still in his face.

“Oh don’t worry about that, it will rip out when I start walking. I have healthy skin underneath” you said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Why do I feel like this is not your first time getting so hurt?” he asked letting out a soft chuckle, suddenly feeling lighter now that he knows you’re okay and will probably be okay for a long long while.

“Eh, been there done that a few times” you simply said, taking his hand and walking back to the city of Mondstadt.

#xiao x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #xiao imagines #xiao scenarios #venti imagines #venti scenarios #xiao headcanons #venti headcanons #zhongli scenarios #zhongli headcanons #zhongli imagines

2K notes · View notes

demonslayedher · 3 years

Note

The Sound Pillar past, I have heard that explore a bit in databook about being ninja.

Also what happened his sibling that still remain.

Also what there react

Combining info from the fanbooks and Chapters 80, 87, and 90 we get the following narrative of Uzui Tengen and his family, as complete as I could fill it in. It's always possible the anime version will expand and give us more, but here's what I've got in chronological format.

Uzui Tengen's father was the leader of their clan, one of a few ninja clans who lived in close community. Ninja were regularly sent on missions, but it is not clear what those missions were. Women and children were also expected to undergo strict training and go on missions, but women were primarily only valued as baby-makers, and it was common for one man to take multiple wives. The wives, at least in the Uzui case, were chosen upon agreements between families. (For more commentary on the unusual and cult-like nature of the Uzui ninja clan, please see this post.) In Chapter 80, Makio recalls how she never used to be afraid of dying because she was so brainwashed to believe her only value as a kunoichi (female ninja) was to put her life on the line in support of the strong male ninja. Tengen is the oldest of nine children. Of note, Fanbook #2 states that he has a mother and father from whom the nine children came, but as multiple wives is the norm in this village and Uzui was 15 when they were forced to fight each other, I think it's reasonable to assume many of them were half-siblings (even if all with one very busy wife, that would make the youngest one only around 7~9 years old or so, by my guess. But, it doesn't seem unreasonable in this clan that an 8-year-old would be expected to take part in this fight.)

Tengen had his three wives by the time he was 15. Since he is 23 when canon takes place and Hinatsuru (from a ninja clan second in rank to the Uzui clan and who has a good balance of core ninja skills) is 21, Makio (physically a highly capable ninja but her short temper causes her to fail her missions and yes, she is Tengen's cousin, please restrain your knee-jerk reactions and accept the cultural difference and move one) is 20, and Suma is 19 (and yes, Fanbook #2 said she likes both men and women), that means his wives were respectively 13, 12, and 11 when they fled the village. As Suma's younger sister was originally the one being considered as a bride, this means they were willing to marry off girls even younger than that. See this post for more commentary on multiple wives in the Taisho period, and as an added note, the legal age for women to marry in Taisho was 16. The Uzui ninja clan was entirely counter-cultural in the first place, though, so this doesn't apply very directly to them. Furthermore, due to their curse, the Ubuyashiki clan had very usually early expectations for children to wed, and they always run a not officially recognized organization. Otherwise, most of the cast seems to follow more usual Meiji/Taisho family patterns. Of the nine siblings, three of them died before Tengen turned 15, simply due to the lifestyle. When Tengen was 15 (clarified according to Fanbook #1), Tengen's father pit the remaining six siblings against each other so that only the strong would remain. They were all concealing their identities and did not know they were fighting their own siblings. According to Fanbook #2, Tengen killed two of them, and his younger brother (second oldest) killed another two, and Tengen was pissed when he realized what was happening. He couldn't bring himself to kill his remaining brother, though that brother was just like their father when it came to his values that only the strong should survive, and he really didn't care about killing his own flesh and blood. This was when Tengen decided he didn't want to live like this, and he took his wives and fled. For a while (according to Fanbook #2), he often said he should go to hell, but this made Makio angry, it made Hinatsuru cry, and it made Suma bite him so he stopped saying that. He did continue to think that he should eliminate the rest of this evil Uzui clan, but he could never bring himself to kill his father and little brother. (So, fanfic writers, grab your pens, we can assume the Uzui clan is still active.) Anyway, once he was free of that lifestyle where he had to constantly hide his presence, he thoroughly rebelled and embraced the flamboyant.

It's unclear when and how Tengen learning Breathing technique. It's possible there was knowledge of this technique in some form or another among the ninja (though his wives don't seem to display it), and it's also possible he learned from a cultivator. Sound is an off-shoot of Thunder, but it's unclear whether Sound was established before he came along, or if he created this Breath to make extra use of his keen hearing. (What I would give to see Tengen/Kuwajima interactions, preferably arguing about which Breath is superior.) It's unclear how much time passed between fleeing the clan and joining the Demon Slayer Corps. Given his ninja skills, as soon as he found out about the Corps (and perhaps by extension, demons), passing the Final Selection was probably a breeze for him. It was either right after the Final Selection (and therefore still waiting for his uniform), or just as he had made up his mind to join the Corp that he declares his new rule to his wives: their lives are #1 priority. #2 priority is morally upright humans, and #3 is Tengen himself.

And they're like, "whaaaaaaaat."

But sure enough they all accept the demon slaying mission, and before long, Tengen and his wives meet Oyakata-sama one fine spring day, I assume upon attaining the rank of Sound Pillar. Oyakata-sama sympathizes with how hard it must had been for Tengen--for all of them--to go against what they were raised to believe, and to fight to protect people in what they've deemed a morally upright course of life. Tengen's like, "this guy gets it" and becomes as big a fanboy as any other Pillar is for Oyakata-sama. It's purely conjecture, but I'm guessing he and Oyakata-sama both were somewhere around age 15~17 at this meeting (again, we don't know how much time has passed since Tengen left the ninja. Due to Kanae and Tengen's shared presence at later flashbacks, he couldn't had been older than 18~19). Tengen goes on to be super popular. The most popular Pillar in the Corp, Taisho Rumor has it. His wives all help on missions too, but there's an agreement that they'll get out and live a happy domestic life once they've bagged an Upper Moon--enough of a contribution to, perhaps, to feel they've atoned for the sins they committed as ninja (or at least, this was how Hinatsuru proposed the idea). Once the arm gets chopped and the eye gets cut, Tengen gains a really good excuse for retiring, but it was just his luck to have declared three Tsuguko within hours of his forced retirement. (Like, I doubt this counts for anything. And if he ever calls them that again his trio of Tsuguko are probably going to be more confused than anybody else.) Anyway, Nezuko brings him back from the brink of poison-induced death and he basically walks home. While still involved in the Corp in training the rank and file members and guarding Kiriya upon his becoming Oyakata-sama (meaning he, like Himejima, was trusted with knowledge in advance about Kagaya's very flamboyant exit plan). After that he truly goes into domestic retirement mode and makes friends with a fellow lop-sided former Pillar, however drab he always thought that person was. He takes enough of a liking to said former Pillar that he brings him along on co-ed hot spring dips and lets him hold his first child. Which of the three wives birthed the first child, we don't know. And then one of his descendants goes on to be a flamboyant gymnast, but still gathers once a year under Ubuyashiki's leadership to perform the Sound Breath forms as a sacred Kagura dance. And we still don't know what became of Tengen's brother. For all we know, modern gymnast Uzui Tenma and his six other siblings regularly avoid explosive attacks on their life from a generations-held promise to eliminate them. PARKOUR---but more flamboyant. (I hope it's obvious that I am being silly here and have no canon basis for this.)

#no where in this did I mention the Muscle Mice #I am disappointed in my myself for I love the Muscle Mice #Uzui Tengen #kny references #kny reference #kny fandom theories and meta #Uzui Hinatsuru #Uzui Makio #Uzui Suma #Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayer

122 notes · View notes

heejojo · 3 years

Text

Love Isn't Beautiful But With You It Was

✰ summary: y/n and niki's journey from being enemies to friends to much more than that.

✰ pairing: Niki x fem!reader (and a Jay apperance)

✰ genre: fluff, angst, enemies to childhood friends to lovers

✰ warning: a few sad scenes but I'm not sure they'll be too bad! death

✰ word count: 1.8k (the most so far tbh)

a/n: this is my first fanfic so please leave comments about what should be improved. if you have any requests feel free to leave them! it's past 12am now and I need to sleep but I hope you have a nice day!

prompt gotten from @moonlight-chi77 thank you!

“Love isn’t beautiful but with you it was”

Life disappears in the blink of an eye, but the memories created and the human connection formed does not. The memories created are embedded in our hearts and follow us through different paths of life. Whether those memories are good or bad, they become something we reflect on in later moments.

Nishimura Riki couldn’t exactly remember the first time he met you but all he knew was that he had never hit off with someone the way he did with you.

September 2012

Although Niki couldn't pinpoint the exact date you guys started talking, he knew it was in September of 2012. He knew at first he disliked you and wanted nothing to do with you because you had stolen his spot on the swings.

“That's my spot, I told Jay I was going to stay here forever,” he said while his friend who was behind him nodded enthusiastically, backing him up.

“Your name is not on it and you didn’t buy it so why should I leave?” you asked him without coming down because you got there fair and square.

“I called dibs on it,” he said while puffing out his chest.

“Dibs are for babies,” you say while continuing to swing. “I’m not a baby,” he retorts.

“If you say so, then why are you wearing a Talking Tom T-Shirt?” you ask and his face begins to turn red. “It's cool, isn't it Jay?” he nudges his friend asking him for support. “Cool man, girls just suck” Jay responds and they both leave. “At least I dress myself!” you yell at their retreating figures

After that day, Niki made it his mission to disturb you every day and never wore his Talking Tom shirt again after that day.

August 2016

“Niki!!” you screamed as you felt another water balloon hit your leg. At this point, your entire body was soaked. The young boy continued to laugh and run as you chased him. You were beginning to regret spending your summer break with him when you could be watching TV instead. Eventually, you give up chasing the blond-haired boy and go into the house to dry off. Thirty minutes later, Niki comes in with a bottle of orange juice as a form of apology. You snatch it without further thought and drink it. Looking up at him after you finish drinking it, you both burst into a fit of laughter. “You’re lucky I love food,” you say. Maybe spending the summer with him wouldn't be so bad.

December 2018

Your crush on Niki was painfully obvious to everyone but him. Your friends teased you, his friends teased you yet when you were together you denied it with so much vigour. Niki had liked you for a few months now. Everyone was enjoying the slow burn that was going on between the two of you; the soft glances across the room, the way you always looked for each other among crowds, the way he knew where your secret birthmark was even though your close friends didn’t.

It was the way you complimented each other that made everyone cringe and aw at the same time. The jacket you got him for his birthday was his most prized piece of clothing and the only person he let touch it was his mum. This year though, you gathered enough courage and told him how he meant to you and how you were content with being just friends even if it hurt a little. But you weren’t expecting Niki to say he felt the same way, even more so. Your friends heaved a sigh of relief and choruses of ‘Finally’ were echoed.

It felt good being with someone.

January 2019

Everyone argued with people they loved right? Your parents did, the old lady that sells fruit and her boyfriend did so you and Niki weren’t an exception. After being childhood friends for so long you’d think you could trust each other enough to talk about the things that bothered you but he refused to, claiming that he didn’t want you to see him in a different light and how it would hurt his pride. You would tell him that no one knew him more and cared about him the way you did. At times, you’d let it go not wanting to push him but that day you couldn’t take it.

“We need to talk. Why have you been avoiding me these past few days?” you asked him.

“I’ve just been busy” he replied.

“No, you’ve been avoiding me. I know you well enough to know when you're hiding something” you said.

He wouldn't budge, he never did especially when you cornered him like this. He started to get irritated and said, “I said I’ve been busy so forgive me if I can’t give you attention all the time. Not all of us are as clingy as you” You winced; it was your fault for pushing him to the edge like that. Nevertheless, you wouldn't give up. “ I just want you to say how you feel and what bothers you. I’d never look at you in a different light and you know that. You might want to be strong but it’s okay to show some sort of emotion, it doesn’t make you weak rather it makes you look like someone that acknowledges what is wrong and doesn’t try to ignore the problem or solve it on their own” you comforted him. As the words entered his ears, you could see the walls surrounding his heart crumbling. “It’s okay to ask for help or just to rant to someone. Even if we won’t be able to provide an immediate solution, it should help” you added taking a few steps forward and grabbing a hold of his hands. You squeezed them tightly.

“I...I’m just scared you’ll leave once you see the not so perfect side of me” he managed to say. “I will stay with you, why don’t we make the best of everything without worrying about the future?” you asked while smiling. He returned it and pulled you in for a hug. “Thank you, truly,” he said and you smiled under his embrace.

After a few minutes you spoke up, “Oh yeah, Niki?” you called his attention and he hummed in response. “Don’t ever shout at me like that again, I can deck you and you know it” you said.

“Got it, boss. Sorry for being a jerk”

June 2020

You usually went on diets and exercised a lot but you were losing weight at an extreme rate and you weren’t even on a diet. Niki was worried but you brushed it off telling him it was stress from school but it got worse. You found it difficult for you to balance yourself, you felt nauseated, getting even more frequent headaches and being tired all the time so Niki decided that enough was enough and took you to the hospital. Neither of you had expected the result of the scans that were run.

“I’m sorry but there is a tumour in your brain,” the doctor said. The air left your lungs. “You can choose to get the surgery and live in the hospital for 8 months or live with the tumour for 3 months” he continued. You thanked him and left the hospital. The elephant in the room was very much alive and neither one of you wanted to address it. Did you want to stay in the hospital for the rest of your life or did you want to say with your loved ones? You thought that they would go through and that won’t be worth it.

“Niki” you called out.

He looked at you with a sad smile and just pulled you in for a hug, careful not to hurt you. “Do you want to tell your parents?” You nodded. You couldn’t just leave without saying anything. Picking your jacket, Niki drove you to your parents house.

“I just wanted you guys to know, I couldn’t just leave without saying anything,” you said with your eyes cast downwards. You couldn’t bear to look at your mom who was already crying or your dad who was blaming himself even when it wasn’t his fault or your sister who was basically your best friend. Niki had given you guys privacy but you knew it was just an excuse for him to be with his own feelings.

“I’m going to stay close to home in the meantime so I can be closer to you guys,” you said. Your eyes were already becoming glossy with tears. You inched towards your mom, taking her hand in yours and said, “You did an amazing job of being my mom and I love you so much”. Moving to your dad, you said “You did a good job of protecting me so don’t think otherwise. Let’s make all the memories we want to now without any regrets”. At that, your sister burst into tears “I… I can’t bear to lose you” Your heart clenched. “I can’t bear to lose you too” She continued crying. Your mom wiped her eyes and said, “From today, live the way you want to. Eat what you want and do what you want.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Niki staring watching the whole scene. After an hour, I stood up and went home with Niki. The car ride was a long and awkward one. When we got home, we just slept hugging each other.

Starting tomorrow I was going to live.

July 2020

The pain is getting worse but the smiles on my family and friends faces are enough to keep me going. I wrote letters and got gifts for them. Niki looks at the calendar every day, I can’t tell him to stop because I can tell he’s hurting so much. Why can’t I just be okay for everyone?

August 2020

The time comes faster, Niki and I went on a getaway for a few days. He deserved a break from everything that has been going on.

September 2020

I never thought I'd die as silly as that sounds. I asked my parents and sister to leave when I got to the hospital. Niki refused to leave and stayed there till I took in my last breath. He kept crying begging me not to go and how he’d do anything.

“Does it hurt a lot?” he asked between sniffles

“No it doesn’t, it just feels like a needle” it hurt like a truck.

“Liar”

I chuckled and held his hand till I couldn’t anymore. “I love you’’ I say as the lights fade.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

Dear Nishimura Riki,

When you see this, it means I’m already gone. First of all, don’t beat yourself up too much. I could write for ages about how much I love you but now that I need to, my mind goes blank. You’ve done so well for putting up with me, hats off to you. You might not want to but move on, even though id like you to remember me; let your heart heal and be happy.

Take care of yourself and don’t skip any meals. Eat well and be happy, make sure you visit the places we never got to visit and enjoy yourself. Live life the way you want it every day. Be nice to people and smile more.

Thank you for all the happy memories, my love, I’ll be forever grateful for you. You made my life colourful and worth living.

Love isn’t beautiful but with you it was.

Yours truly,

Y/N.

#enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #character death #enhypen fluff

120 notes · View notes

animatedrapture · 4 years

Text

RINTOBER: [ Achilles' Heel ]

word count: 2,222

suna rintarō x reader

tags: ambiguous end, implied major character death, angst, implied sexual intercourse, toxic relationship, detailed pain(?)

song: achilles come down - gang of youths

a/n: HALLOWEEN SPECIAL because... death...?

a HUGE thank you, once again, to my wonderful wife, love of my life, bby @toffees-main 🥺 for proofreading the final piece and preventing me from sounding like a dumbass like, twice. also, thank you to @newfriendjen and @kaitycole for beta-reading the initial draft!

"Rin, Rintarō, I love you!" You shouted from the bleachers; a proud smile decorating your features as you cheered for him right after he'd hit the ball to the other side of the net, securing EJP Raijin another point—so close to winning.

His gaze and yours were two opposites of a pole with a pull unparalleled—a pull science can only wish to decipher. He finds you as he rotates through the set up and there's a beam in his eyes, making him break out into a grin you just know he couldn't find it in himself to reserve for later.

That day, that match—Suna Rintarō was named the MVP of the game. He owed it all to you and the swell of his heart with each cheer he heard from you; your voice distinct as if it were the only one that mattered in that whole gymnasium. Perhaps, at least that time, you truly were all that mattered to him.

But not anymore.

The first—the first was the lack of replies, the dryer replies. I love you's met with Love you's and very little effort to hide the lack of sincerity beneath. It began through texts until it was the quick, snipped tone laced with the parsimonious manner he answered you. The act of it was much like an attempt to deprive you of water until you're but withering rose in his grasp that he would rather replace than try to plant again and save.

Just how long were you willing to go without the water you needed to stay alive?

"Rin, love, I'll prepare dinner for us tonight, come home early, okay? I'm cooking your favorite!"

"I'll try," was his reply as you watched each of his hasty movements through your shared bedroom.

"I prepared you a bento, too. It's on the kitchen counter," you continued as he attempted to ignore the way you looked at him similar to the way you look when you're lost and searching for something. He hums in response, and just as he was about to reach for the door, you call out to him, "Rin, where's my goodbye kiss?" in the usual tone you would pull back then when he would forget and pepper you with kisses in retaliation, offering an apology before heading out.

He looks back at you with exasperation, "I'm late, Y/N." He doesn't wait for you to answer before he has the door shut close.

That's how you know he also forgot the food you prepared on the kitchen counter.

Foolishly, the answer to the question was that you were willing to wait until your next life for his love to drown you into bliss again. It's that answer that's disrespectful to the mystery of reincarnation—but you're everything Suna Rintarō wanted you to be; that is, if it was a fool he wanted you to be, you would play the part better than any award winning actor to have ever lived could. Even if it was a miscreant he wanted you to be, some sort of heretic to the laws of the world and the conditions of love. You'd be everything he asked of you. After all, who were you if not his other half?

Who were you if not water to shape into whatever container he put you in, right?

The second—the second was the lies that slipped past such sinful crimson lips. Oh, by the heavens, as if the lack of fondness in the timbre of his voice as he spoke to you wasn't enough to put cracks to the cemented foundation of you and him. Cruel, it's so cruel—you wonder if you're lacking somewhere, have you changed? Are you no longer diamond in the sea of glitter—? Worth not of his time nor the beating of the caged heart you thought you've acquired?

Now when he speaks, even the very sound of his voice reverberates like a sharp spear piercing through your chest without mercy—as if you're Spartan in the Battle of Thermopylae. The lies that come along with them about how training ended late again, or that he's travelling for a match again—Huh? No, you don't have to come, Y/N. I need to focus.

Did he have to lie about who he's with, what he's been doing? It's laughable. As if you wouldn't kiss away the taste of anything that lingered in his lips, if it was blood, alcohol or the lips of another girl. Rintarō, did he not know you enough to know you would surrender to his will no matter what mud followed his footsteps?

Ah, but, what would admitting such things do to his pride? Maybe it's that—or maybe he liked the way the lies were like lemon and salt to a fresh wound. You think, you never thought you could be so masochistic.

Third—the third is the sharpness of his gaze. It's the same gaze, same pair of eyes you've loved for such a long time and you fail not to love to this very moment. You're softer than clouds but now most hollow in comparison to the unacquirable stars among the cosmos—you think they're there but they're just a burst of light, something that has probably died lightyears ago.

It's like chokehold, the fourth—the fourth is like chokehold and he, the assassin. Ruthless—he's ruthless when he looks at you as you're not more than a tedious chore to him and the ring on your finger held no promise of relentless love greater than what a deity could offer.

Foolish—you're foolish. Delusion is a coping mechanism to the ones whose realities have been robbed in front of them—delusion is what you're supposed to call it when you fill your head with all the excuses and all the things you tell yourself have to change. You used to be a masterpiece. A masterpiece to him; as though you're Holy Grail found in a gallery of things that could never begin to hope they would ever amount to you.

Delusion is ignoring the liquor in his lips, the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with alcohol and cigarette smoke. You're confused and your reality that seems to have been distorting more often than usual. You question the strings that premeditate fate when it's you feeling the drunkenness and hangover the next day when it should be Suna and the tabloids of "Suna Rintarō spotted in yet another bar." You wonder if each sunset and sunrise you watched with Suna was a mere fever dream when it's you who vomits on the toilet. You, who sobs on the bathroom floor.

"Sfumato," your friend tells you, "The gentle blurring of edges to make rendered objects appear as one with their environment." The edges blur when you call that delusion as love—you only have to wait long enough before both are truly one and the same. The pain disguised as martyr sacrifice to the greatest allegory of love to exist. This is what you're told. They say, "Y/N, you've confused love with delusion," and yet you don't listen.

You don't listen most of all when you're back underneath him but you feel like you're being bloodied all over, stained like wine to a white dress. Yet you allow yourself to indulge in the kisses he's abated you of, you revel in each time you ask him to tell you he loves you and he finally does as he luxuriates you of your desires and of your whines for love—nevermind that he was doing it for himself. After all, it is as the word suggests, a luxury.

Suna Rintarō had become a luxury you couldn't afford, therefore, he did not have any business of giving himself to you. Not unless he wanted to.

Is there such thing as a free reign over the heart of someone? Hand it over as they will but how long would they truly allow you to borrow it—? Borrow it because one never truly surrenders such a vital thing to human functioning. Yes, you are and you have been delusional to believe so.

"You own the entirety of my heart, Y/N," you're unsure whenever it echoes in your head. He brings you enough torture, why must your own brain create such clamor in your head. Was such pain necessary? Is pain to love much like Adam's rib to Eve?

"It's a promise ring, bunny," he said as he tucked your hair behind your ears—his gaze is intense, almost like you would disappear from his sight if he looked at anywhere or anything but you.

You stared at the ring that shone under the light of the restaurant, your vision blurring at the tears welling from your eyes and you try your best to choke in the sob that involuntarily escapes you.

"Hey, Y/N, what are you cryin' for?" He questioned with a chuckle, looking at you with amusement dancing in his eyes while his thumbs reached out to wipe away each tear that betrayed you—falling down your cheeks as he cupped your face.

"I-it's nothing, I—I'm just happy, love," you answer him through your tears.

There's a smile playing across his lips, he tells you, "'m just making a promise that I'll marry you one day, bunny, is all."

You nodded eagerly with a wide smile even as the tears that left you continued to fall, "I'm making a promise to say yes, Rin. No matter what," you answered him through your sobs, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Guess I should start practicing to get on one knee then, yeah?" He laughed as he pulled you closer, his arms around you, you giggled along with him—it felt like you were molded together to form one perfect piece, like the act of staying there for all of eternity, in each other's arms, would turn you into one. Entangled together in all the right ways—as if Rapture has befallen the Earth and that was your final state as did the universe.

The fifth—the fifth is the screaming, the fights. Who would have thought you would break like a mere twig stepped on in the darkest forest on this Earth? It was under his shoe did you break from; each word that left his mouth was scathing—they didn't feel like a stab or pins and needles to the human heart, they felt like burns of acid that slowly ate at your decaying soul, breaking heart, dwindling sanity.

"I don't get it, Rin! Why do you treat me like this?!" You screamed through your tears, your chest heaving as your lungs tried its best to support you, even when it's already been punctured by the shattered pieces of your heart that continued to beat in separate shards, digging further into your lungs, damaging your ribcage, piercing your throat.

"Please, God, just tell me what to do—Rintarō, tell me what I need to do to turn us back to the way we were, please," you begged, falling to your knees and you let the shattered items on the floor puncture your skin. You felt numb yet your whole body was buzzing. The pain from the pieces of glass from under you doesn't register in your brain because all you can feel is the pain that was spreading from your chest and out into your whole body.

Under his mercy had he turned you inside out and greedily taken every part of you—everything you surrendered on your own volition until you were nothing, not even a shell of yourself but more like a ghost floating through the air. It looked like a battlefield—and perhaps it was. Love was never something you come out alive from. Love was greedy, selfish, treacherous. Love is like an assailant you allowed to enter in the safety of your own home.

"Don't you get it? Y/N, I don't love you anymore!"

No. You think, no. No, it repeats in your head, over and over. Denial. You were in denial, at this conjecture, you were aware of even this.

"I stopped loving you long ago, Y/N. You were dumb enough to stay." Has he always been this truculent towards you? You wonder but you can't recall anything else but the echoing of his words. Words he used like a champion of the battlefield, liberating away the life of his enemies.

No. Don't say that. You don't mean it. No.

Suna thought you would be the arrow to his heel—the one to bring him to his knees in the most torturous of ways. In reality, maybe you were more his heel than the arrow. He was both Achilles and his actions, the arrow that brought him to his own demise.

Sixth—the sixth was sickening grief. You're so unfair. You're so selfish. How could you run away from him, only to scream his name and the tormenting shout of "I love you" that haunted him awake or in his slumber. How could you be so cruel? To let him fall to his knees in front you the way you made him to. Ruthless—you're so ruthless. The pain was the excruciating kind, crashing towards him like ocean waves bringing him farther from the shore and near to wherever you were now. How could you leave him like you did?

After all, what was he if there wasn't you?

📞 violet is calling... all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

#RINTOBER #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna #rintarou suna #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #;cloud #haikyuu angst #suna angst #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintarou x reader

496 notes · View notes

shirkers2018dirsanditan · 3 years

Text

this piece is a bit ridiculous in the way it infantilizes men and constructs this myth of male oppression. however. it does have good insights

Men, say psychologists, also feel threatened by the "emotional power" they perceive women wielding over them. Unable to feel alive except when in relationships with women, they are at the same time painfully aware that their only salvation from isolation comes in being sexually acceptable to women. This sense of neediness can provoke intense anger that, all too often, finds expression in porn. Unlike real life, the pornographic world is a place in which men find their authority unchallenged and in which women are their willing, even grateful servants. "The illusion is created," as one male writer on pornography puts it, "that women are really in their rightful place and that there is, after all, no real and serious challenge to male authority."

…

Psychoanalyst Estela Welldon, author of the classic text Mother, Madonna, Whore, has treated couples for whom such scenarios spiralled out of control. "A lot of men involve their partners in the use of porn. Typically, they will say, 'Don't you want a better sex life?' I have seen cases in which first the woman has been subjected to porn and then they have used their own children for pornographic purposes." When couples use porn together - a growing trend, if anecdotal evidence is anything to go by - there is, says Welldon, "an illusory sense that they are getting closer together. Then they film themselves having sex and feel outside themselves. This dehumanising aspect is an important part of pornography. It dehumanises the other person, the relationship, and any intimacy."

…

The mechanics of the pornographic search - craving, discovery of the "right" image, masturbation, relief - makes it, says Morgan, work like "a sort of drug, an antidepressant". The myth about porn, as a witness told the 1983 Minneapolis city council public hearings on it, is that "it frees the libido and gives men an outlet for sexual expression. This is truly a myth. I have found pornography not only does not liberate men, but on the contrary is a source of bondage. Men masturbate to pornography only to become addicted to the fantasy. There is no liberation for men in pornography. [It] becomes a source of addiction, much like alcohol. There is no temporary relief. It is mood-altering. And reinforcing, ie, 'you want more' because 'you got relief'. It is this reinforcing characteristic that leads men to want the experience they have in pornographic fantasy to happen in real life."

In its most severe form, this can lead to sexual crime, though the links between the two remain controversial and much argued-over. Wyre, from his work with sex offenders, says, "It is impossible not to believe pornography plays a part in sexual violence. As we constantly confront sex offenders about their behaviour, they display a wide range of distorted views that they then use to excuse their behaviour, justify their actions, blame the victim and minimise the effect of their offending. They seek to make their own behaviour seem normal, and interpret the behaviour of the victim as consent, rather than a survival strategy. Pornography legitimises these views."

…

And the alternative to pornography, says Morgan, is not always easy. "Relationships are difficult. Intimacy, having a good relationship, loving your children, involves work. Pornography is fantasy in the place of reality. But it is just that: fantasy. Pornography is not real, and the only thing human beings get nourishment from is reality: real relationships. And, anyway, what do you want to say when you get to the end of your life? That you wish you'd spent more time wanking on the internet? I hardly think so."

#anti-pornography

33 notes · View notes

lorei-writes · 3 years

Text

Impression of Infinity

Vincent x Reader Fluff (?) Fantasy AU

Word Estimate: 1.5k

I blame @cheese-ception for this. Also, excuse typos, I literally wrote the last parts with closed eyes, because I can’t see anything just regardless - it’s all blur.

Content Warnings: none Disclaimer: Reader & Vincent are of the same age, Vincent just found himself in a very peculiar situation

Vincent’s finger twitches – and green grows between the rows of students, translucent, reaching up to the very ceiling. His wrist twists the brush by what could be an error margin, the swing of his arm summons purples, invites them alongside violets, to rest between the stars – and you watch very carefully, although you know you should observe his work, not him, that you should listen to his words, not the thumping filling your head… Yet how could you, if he has you charmed, if you cannot turn your eyes away? Vincent nearly dances, his cheeks growing redder from exercise, the canvas he chose being much greater than the body he inhabits. To paint it must be tiresome, you reckon, although your concerns vanish, the spark in his eyes causing something inside of you to sting. Clearly, he is not the same boy you used to know, not the one sentenced to the fate of failure due to his inability to enchant with his voice alone. Yet… Is there anything wrong with that? After all, his greatest flaw turned into what made him a prodigy, as you always claimed.

The heat does not hold against the chilly air of the corridor, you think, the soles of your shoes clacking against the granite floor. The air vibrates outside, kept ablaze by merciless sun, the dreaded celestial body refusing to set even at night, its halo extending from one end of the horizon to the other – and even as your eyebrows furrow, you cannot stop and stare through the tinted-glass windows for even a moment, a steady stream of humans behind your back pushing you forward. In this world of yours, rather secluded from the outside realm, it is another sort of movement that agitates the air, lively chatter lifting in clouds, further replenished by curious students.

The lecture theatre is a marvel in its own right, rows of wooden benches and bookrests refusing to fall apart despite all the centuries passed. You take your seat, in the very front row – and although you try to, you cannot help wondering who sat there before you. Have… Have they discovered anything? Gained some fame? You cannot tell for sure, that much is certain, yet… It would not be unthinkable, it would not be impossible in any way. The Seventh Century University have had quite a number of excellent graduates.

Your hands beginning to hurt, you forcibly unclench your fists, your gaze lifting up from the floor. Right in time, as the chatter stops abruptly, killed by the shriek of the walnut door. A man, no taller than average, steps inside – and something perhaps stings inside your chest, just a little bit. His robe is somewhat crooked, just the way you remembered it to be, the traditional pointy hat (much dreaded by any student, in all fairness) seemingly glaring at him from its place in his arms. He looks around, as if lost, mildly dishevelled blonde hair appearing not to have grown any more obedient the past year. Your throat tightens. He is already at the lectern. “Good evening,” he laughs awkwardly. “My name is Vincent van Gogh and I will be your Practical Astronomy professor.”

The room grows dark, obsidian seemingly crawling over all stone spaces and consuming them whole. Your jaw tightens. Was it truly just a year? To think, so much would have changed… For you both to start at the same time, and then…

It happens as if a sea of fireflies was released into the room, a single twitch of the brush in his hand colouring the nothingness anew. “As we all know, Tralangea is located within the Galatos triad, in the galaxy of Saana. Little is known about the outside universes, however, the most recent findings indicate the remaining splatter points present different variants of the reality known to us. As you should already known after going through Analytical Divination, it would align well within the still-standing model of inter-crossings. In this moment, I want you to imagine the infinite number of elements, circulating through space and interacting with one another. I will give you a second.” The light dies down again, the previously invoked golden specks splashing against the ground. “How does it look?”

No one dares disrupt the silence. How can he ask? It is impossible to answer, of course – and you are very well aware of that. How to picture an infinity? Is it… A trick question, perhaps? You go over the possibilities in your thoughts. A void? The light? You do not know. Something completely abstract, the end of all times? For all you know, it may be just that, and your fellow students seem to agree, confused whispers beginning to hum behind your back. The hushed voices growl, a sea of flies united in mere human distrust. “Professor?” some brave soul asks. “Yes? Do you have an answer?” “I… I think this is impossible.” “Oh? Why so? I might have given you too tough a question at the start,” Vincent laughs, seemingly mildly unease. “It is infinity, professor.” The room quiets down, the concern of all having been spoken out loud. “It is impossible to picture infinity with a finite mind. It would fry it up!” A smack, a couple steps. “I see, you are not aware,” Vincent muses, something swishing in the air. “Your life already is an infinity, in this very moment.”

The room begins to glow, the brush in Vincent’s hand seemingly coming to life with a mind of its own, streaks of navy blue and petrol painting below the dome, swirling and tying with shades of orange, lined with golden dust. “We do not need perfection. We need a model,” he explains softly, almost tenderly, his gaze focused.

Vincent lifts his arm over his head, a halo emerging above him. His lips move, a barely audible charm seeping out of his lungs and pulling his creation into a newly created sphere. The room lights up again, granite having conquered the walls. You blink fast. Is it over already? “We have a little more time, so allow me to repeat myself. It is not about creating perfection, but much rather… An impression,” Vincent laughs, perhaps a little shy of what they have just witnessed. “The universes are infinite and so are their interpretations. With our current state of understanding, we cannot provide an accurate depiction. However, different stances on them can be beneficial in certain contexts. Do you know what my model could be used for?” “Map of the stars!” somebody shouts in the back. “Exactly,” he agrees, nodding happily, his lips curled into a smile. “It is what I focused on. By the end of the year, I want you to be able to process an infinite amount of information and take only a fraction of this information. Starting next week, we will be deconstructing our universe. Any questions?” Silence. “You’re free then, thank you.”

The seats around you empty at a gradual pace, some pooling around the lectern (it appears the shyness is quite infectious, you note) while others speed out of the hall, seemingly terrified of classes which are yet to come. You, however, you stay still, as if unable to move, although there is nothing holding you back. Is it you? Is it a mean spell somebody has cast? You do not know, although it seems it is not your day for knowing anything, Vincent, the very Vincent you knew so well, emerging right before you, from who knows where. He graces you with the brightest smile you have seen in a year. “Hello. I didn’t know you were taking my class,” he says, a trace of laughter in his voice. “I saw you listed as the professor and could not believe it, so of course, I had to see it for myself,” you reply, shaking your head, perhaps mildly amused. “Congrats! That internship must have been so hard, you skipped so many years! I hope they didn’t torture knowledge into you there, professor Van Go –” you stop before you finish the word, Vincent scratching his head, his eyes drifting way from you. “Vincent?” “Well, emm… I didn’t skip any years,” he laughs. “It is just those models. The rest, well…” “You still need to pass them?” “Please, tell me you have not chosen my subject over Astral Projection this year,” he forces out of himself – although you barely hear it, laughter shaking your arms violently. “I haven’t. How does this even work?” “I don’t know. I don’t think they know either.” “Oh, Vincent. Well, professor van Gogh, get ready for failing Astral Projection, Miss Szajna took over it this semester and I do not see anything painting in bright colours, unlike your models.”

You get up, the both of you walking to well, the next class. How does it all work? You have no clue. However, it does not matter in the slightest, a weight having been lifted off your heart. You can still tell him those three words. You have not lost your chance.

Tag List: @cheese-ception, @kisara-16, @nad-zeta, @rikumorimachisgirl @bestbryn If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)! ^^ Also, do remember to specify fandoms (and characters, if you are interested only in some) :D If it ever happens that you wish to be removed from my taglist, for any reason, do let me know. I will not ask why, it’s all fine ^^

#vincent van gogh #ikevamp vincent #ikevam vincent #ikevamp #ikevam #ikemen vampire #ikemen series #my ff #my writing

41 notes · View notes

datawyrms · 3 years

Text

Not As Such

For Phic Fight 2021! Using @dp-marvel94 ‘s lovely prompt. On AO3

Something was different with him. It had been for a while, and to his horror, Danny Fenton thinks he might have finally pinpointed it. He's felt off, strange, like his memories, his life, even his own body was foreign to him because....he might not be Danny Fenton at all.

It was the photographs that ruined his life. They were a reminder of some choking wrongness curled up in his chest, solidified it so it got harder and harder to dismiss. The occasional twitches of discomfort that rolled beneath his skin was ignorable, just a weird side effect of being half ghost. Rubbing at his arm, scratching at his hair and running his tongue over his teeth to count them over and over again were just signs of stress. Anxious people didn’t like to keep still, Jazz said all of the extra responsibly just weighed on him that way. Of course a stressed out teenager might be a bit jumpy, or grit and grind at the meaty thing in his mouth that he needed to speak. He always stopped once the foul coppery taint of blood warned him. A damaged tongue could still taste, and the dull pain didn’t really matter. No one else noticed. It was just a way to cope. Totally normal. Even if he felt somehow, it wasn’t. Enough to know not to bring it up. Sam and Tucker would be concerned about the flakes of skin scratched from his ears, or hair tugged free of his scalp, because he lost parts of himself. Bleeding into his own mouth was fine, he didn’t lose anything. The logic was shaky, but he had better things to worry about. Grades, fighting ghosts, hanging out with friends. The little times where he was a cold outsider stuck in the wrong shape always passed. He just had to pull it together and relax.

The photographs always unsettled him. He was not in the photographs. He never remembered any of the times or circumstances that they were taken. He was in them, Danny Fenton absolutely was in those photographs, but the blue eyes always seemed to be judging him. Accusing him. Asking ‘when was this taken, how did you feel’. New photos didn’t do this. The new photos were of him. He compared some from slightly before the accident to now, trying to see the difference, but he never could find a flaw. He used to be able to play it off, think it was just a strange intrusive thought until he actually really looked at the family photo album. Not a single one was familiar. The only ones he recognized, felt attached to were ones his family had mentioned, or talked about before. Second hand knowledge that ‘felt’ right in the moment, but seemed more like a disconnected farce when he tried so hard to find something familiar. A fishing trip, a picnic, hell he’d take a ‘first day of school’ photo at this point, but none of them triggered a familiar sensation or memory. Danny Fenton had been there, he’s there in the photo, so why can’t he feel anything about them? Why can’t he recall something that prompted the picture, what had been happening without guessing from what he can see in that little framed moment of the past? ‘Oh do you remember this?’ was a question he ignored until they clarified, explained more about the photograph so she could nod and say ‘yes’. Even if the answer was always ‘no’. The events sounded right, felt right when a living person told him, but left on his own with only a silent image? Nothing. He’d sound ridiculous if he said that out loud. So what if his memory wasn’t the greatest? He was still Danny. Their friend.

Who didn’t remember grade school. Who didn’t remember their history, their friendship. Of course he remembered how they met. After Sam and Tucker had spoken about it. He was lucky they talked so much, were open and caring while he was disoriented and ‘weird’. From the accident. Of course he was a bit slow on the uptake after playing human electric cable. He only noticed now how he never corrected them, or remembered something different. Tucker would often go ‘oh this reminds me of x’, and he never said that. As nothing really triggered that feeling, the recognition that was fun or amusing to his friends. Ignoring how ‘bad’ his memory was was taking a toll. Sliding a nail under the curve of his ear to scratch at the uneven mess of broken skin helped. He didn’t leave it alone long enough for it to properly heal, the different texture somewhat soothing. The layers and bumps were 'wrong', but only because he'd damaged it when it was whole and flat. It was still his ear, even if the outside was smooth as he hid the self inflicted damage. He was still Danny, just a bit different where no one could see. He had to be, he insisted. Fallen skin, a bit of blood, it wasn’t a big deal.

The photos knew he was a liar. More and more ended up face down, or ‘went missing’. He didn’t want to see the Danny Fenton that wasn’t him. He remembered his friends, he loved his parents (even if he didn’t love being threatened, but nobody’s perfect), and cared about doing well in school. He was still Danny Fenton. Not a ghost just...going along with what he heard and following social norms. You needed to do well in school to get a good job. What kind of job? Should he care? He didn’t know yet, he was young, that was fine. He always liked space, he didn’t just make that up. Didn’t just see how his room was decorated and accepted those were his interests. He didn’t like fighting ghosts as an escape from Danny Fenton’s life. He fought them to protect people, to make up for letting them out in the first place. The tension that eased in his ghost form had nothing to do with being a ‘different’ person. It had nothing to do with being a different face, one with no expectations set that he had not created himself. Danny Phantom was him, and always had been. Always would be. His gloves weren’t a problem, he never needed to scratch or pull or dig. He didn’t need to breathe, so he didn’t choke on the hissing voice in his mind that insisted he was an imposter.

Running away from a problem wasn’t too hard. Just exhausting. He had always been bad at math. Except Danny Fenton had not been bad at math. He had always done fairly well in school, As across the board, like Jazz. Fentons did not get C minuses. It was just being tired, just the ghost fighting that kept him from applying himself like before. There were hundreds of excuses, and everyone bought them. They made far more sense than something as ridiculous as ‘someone else is pretending to be Danny’. Except he spent time staring at questions, reading books that ‘built on fundamentals’ and still struggled. Fundamentals he had, had demonstrated he had, but had lost. Forget solving for ‘x’, he could barely muddle through a times table. ‘You should know this from previous years’ always made him ill. He didn’t know. He didn’t remember it. Danny Fenton knew, because he was the one who lived it. Denying it wasn’t working. Staring at himself in a mirror, trying to find some sign or quirk that felt familiar and purely human only made his veins hum in a furious frustration. Everything comforting, everything familiar was something true of his ghost form. A reflection, an inverted copy of a face that was his; but wasn’t. He should be alarmed, or concerned his anger was strong enough to turn those blue eyes green, but it only felt right that they did. Unnatural, glowing, inhuman. His real eyes to show his own emotion.

Ectoplasm and post human consciousness. That’s what ghosts were, according to his-yes his parents. So he should be fully, properly dead. Danny Fenton could be who he was, while alive. That would be easier. It didn’t explain why he felt nothing familiar about himself. If he was a post human version, why wasn’t there any of the human? Other than the beating heart, the heaving lungs and the smothering, crushing expectation of an identity he’d been expected to assume. One that he liked, at first until the cracks widened. As his discomfort grew and the evidence started making the cracks into chasms. The obvious flaws that everyone glossed over but clung to him like a leech, until there were so many that simply existing was too much to tolerate. He denied it so long that he no longer had a choice in the matter.

He genuinely loved Sam and Tucker, his best friends that always stuck by him, ghost troubles or not. The first people he’d seen, worried about him and trying to calm him from the jarring sensation of existing. So he had to be Danny Fenton. That’s who they thought they were talking to, thought they were helping out, and he’d latched on to that. He’d been confused, adrift and they’d given him a role to fill and a group to belong to. He had so many reasons to admire and like them, separate from who Danny was before. Things he had witnessed first hand, Sam’s willingness to go to bat for those who were pushed aside or considered inferior. How Tucker would throw aside his personal dislike and fears if someone he cared about was in danger, that he could and would put aside even his own jealousy just to be a pleasant person to spend time with. He didn’t need to know about before, or why they chose to be Danny’s friends. They would see it differently. That he had deceived them, pretended to be their friend- even if he truly thought of them as friends. Would they think he was a mockery of Danny Fenton? A creature that wanted to cause them pain and anguish by deception? He couldn’t tell them Danny Fenton was dead. He had to keep being who they expected him to be. They expected Danny to be in this body, and he was stuck in it. A part of it, but not the part his human friends would like. It would be so much easier if they suspected something was wrong. Then they might understand that he hadn’t meant to be lying. That he really did think he was the boy he saw in the mirror, at first.

Jazz noticed more. She knew Danny best, to be fair. Siblings, always under the same roof. Someone who always helped out when going to his parents wasn’t an option. Yet she mostly noticed his fidgeting, not the cause of it. Her ‘dorky little brother’. The one who liked to make spaceship models, but hadn’t so much as looked at one to wistfully hope for it. Not since the accident. They seemed fiddly and complicated, not an enjoyable way to pass the time. Still, that was chalked up to being a teenager with different priorities. Friends and school came first. She’d cover for him, try and help with ghost hunting even though she had avoided it before and generally was a helpful shoulder to lean on when hearing how much pain their parents wanted ghosts to be in. She would be crushed to know her brother, her first brother, the real one was gone. She might even deny it, assure him that it was all in his head, that she loved him even if on some days he just felt like a freak. That he was fine as he was. So he had to keep being Danny Fenton for her too. Even if the taste of blood wasn’t enough to make the unbearable itch stop anymore, that he’d taken to biting his knuckles until flesh broke. The red, thin blood was enough. Human, he just had to be a certain human. It wasn’t that hard. His body knew how to bleed.

Why had he let himself find the answer? Why did he look at those photos enough that he noticed the common thread of where his memory issues stopped? An answer he couldn’t use, couldn’t act on was worse than the baffling twinges and strange thoughts that boiled to the surface of his mind unbidden. Why did he feel heavy and weighed down in his own body, why did the sound of his heart jar him awake in the night like it was some foreign sound? Because it wasn’t his. He felt like he didn’t fit because he wasn’t meant to fit. He was ectoplasm twisted and shoved in an emptied vessel, a monster squirming in a meat puppet that was his- but also not. If he had just ignored it, kept taking it as just ‘ghost powers and humans don’t mix well’ he wouldn’t be sitting here, desperately wishing he could claw free of himself- of Danny without ruining everything for everyone he cared about. One desperate thought was that he was a ghost, fully and entirely. A spirit in a bad place at a bad time, just unlucky. That he could figure out a way to separate himself from this human life he’d stolen by mistake. Except he had no memory of being a ghost either. The Ghost Zone was new and terrifying territory. He genuinely struggled to grasp how to use his powers, and didn’t have a helpful family like he did as a human, people that could remind him how legs worked. Didn’t have people he could mimic and follow enough that it felt natural after the fog of confusion after his accident faded. If he’d woken up on the other side, would he still be like this? Thinking he was a ghost, had always been one until suddenly gaining a weird human side? The Ghost Catcher didn’t work because there was no Danny Fenton to split from. It just skewed aspects of himself. The thing left behind would be no more Fenton than he was, and he doubted either would live long. He was still half human, in body at least. Just not the human they expected, or wanted. A new thing, created in that portal with feet in two worlds he didn’t understand. He didn’t want to be a new thing, he wanted to be the old thing, but he hated being the old thing. He had to keep everyone happy, he couldn’t branch out or act differently, that would be wrong. He owed it to Danny Fenton to live like he would have. He stole his life and gave his family and friends a false hope, he could hardly take it back now. Realized too late, far too late. So he pretended. Noticed how he could pick things up of how he should be when people talked, felt the sickly squirm inside as he lied about remembering, or nodded along. How he could almost sense how people were feeling and follow their lead. A ghost thing? A human thing? A freak thing? He didn’t know how, he just knew once he was alone he wanted to throttle that feeling until it died, and only another pain seemed to lessen it. It was fine. Chapped lips were common enough, it wasn’t a sign that he kept biting them open. Humans didn’t heal that quickly.

He wasn’t fine. He’d never be fine. Everyone he loved would despise him if he ever slipped up, if they knew the truth. His mom and dad were proof of it. They hated him, completely and utterly. Which they should, he’d stolen their son’s body. Not that they knew that. They didn’t really know they had another son. They made the portal. They looked after him, fed him, said they loved him while he was Danny Fenton. He couldn’t exist without them, it still felt right to call them Mom and Dad, even if he wasn’t a proper Fenton. Maybe on some level they did know. Maybe that’s why they hated Danny Phantom so much, recognized him as the thing that set off their devices and weaponry. Phantom was him, had never been something before he existed. He could feel comfortable in that form, and somehow they could feel it and despised him for it. The monster pretending to be their child daring to feel unrestricted and at ease. Jazz would call him delusional. She would probably be right, if he was Danny Fenton. Which he wasn’t. That was the entire problem. Just crack a smile, remember what he was meant to like and forget it. He owes them. Everything. He can handle it, even if he wants to grab his friends by the shoulders and tell them to really look at him, and stop seeing who they want to see. Who he wants them to see; for their own sake. He half expects the lie curled under his rib cage to fling it open one day in a gory splatter of ‘justice’, but it is content to stay still and remind him with every stolen breath who he isn’t.

Jazz catches him ‘managing’. She thinks the wounds are for a fight, and he goes along with it. Danny Fenton wasn’t some animal that needed to claw out of his own skin to repent for the constant lies he tells the people he loves. All he needs to do is go along, like always. Maybe fight a bit sloppier next time, take a few more blows. He just wants to move on, live as himself, but can’t. He never can. He probably isn’t all that different from Danny Fenton anyway, but unless they know it isn’t genuine. There’s always the chance he’s acting, pretending to be a dead kid. He can’t tell what feelings are his if he learned how he felt about things second hand, if he hadn’t been doing anything but trying to ‘get back to normal’. Was his ‘favourite food’ his favourite because he genuinely enjoyed the taste? Or was it because someone told him it was, so he deluded himself into agreeing? He slips up.

“I’m so tired of lying, Jazz.”

His sister is thrilled that he’s opened up, even as he bites his lip and wishes he could take those words back. Can he spin it back into a joke, or something less important?

“Danny, I know you’re worried. If it’s stressing you out this much, you should tell them.” Her hand on his shoulder is warm, her tone is encouraging.

She means Mom and Dad. She thinks he means the other secret. The secret that isn't. Yet telling one is impossible. It’s too much as it is. Adding them to the list of those tricked about his nature- it makes the blood in his body feel like phlegm. “I can’t, Jazz. They hate me, remember?” Playing it off, but he’s slipping again. He knows the ‘truth’. They accept Danny Fenton. Which is why they can’t know.

“Danny, you know they don’t hate you. They just need to understand they’re wrong about you.” A weary smile, her hand still in place. “The sooner they know, the sooner they’ll stop saying those kinds of things. And the sooner I can tell them off properly!”

“No- Jazz, they hate me. They’re pretty loud about that.” He doesn’t know why he’s trying to convince her. He just needs to back away, say he’ll think about it and leave it. Now he can’t with how she crouches down a little to look into his eyes, instead of his red and angry knuckles.

“They love you just as much. Hiding from them isn’t helping you, you’re jumpier than a jackrabbit every day. I don’t want you here while I’m off at University feeling like everyone in the house hates you, okay?”

She’s begging for him to let her help. Wanting what’s best for him. As she doesn’t know she isn’t talking to her brother of fourteen years. His tongue bleeds, but the guilt doesn’t lessen. “There’s nothing I can tell them.” She doesn't catch how his words slur slightly.

“What? Danny, just tell them you’re their son. I’ll help you, oaky? You’ll feel so much better not needing to hide anymore.”

He probably would feel better. Every bit of him longed for it, but knew he couldn’t in equal measure. “I can’t tell them that.” He doesn’t want to tell that lie, to double down on it. Their absolute hatred of him is warranted- he can’t steal that from them with another lie.

She rolls her eyes. Like he’s being a fool. “Of course you can! If the lies are stressing you out, you can tell them the truth.”

She doesn’t understand. It’s easier to slip away by going intangible so she can’t keep her hand on his shoulder. The comfort feels unearned. “They wouldn’t like the truth.” No one would. Besides him. He’d be free of the burden of his ‘human form’. The body he took to exist with. Not that he’d probably last long once Mom and Dad knew. They’d properly hate him in both forms, not just the one he was comfortable in.

“They’d be thrilled to know you’re a ghost hunter like them, you know that. Seriously, what’s wrong? You look pale.”

“I’m always pale.” He can’t answer that question. He’s wrong, everything’s wrong. He wants to spit, but he has to choke the blood down instead. She was just trying to help. Stay calm, stop talking.

“No, this is little brother is being weird pale. Did something happen? Why do you think they’ll hate you now?”

She won’t believe him anyway. “Uh. Being told how much they hate Danny Phantom will do that to a guy.”

“All the more reason to make them stop, you just need to tell them Fenton and Phantom are the same person.”

“And what if we weren't?” He isn’t thinking. He’s covering his mouth, too late for it to matter. Yet so many muscles relax once it’s out. The weight on his back shrugged off by even posing the question. A question he shouldn't be posing, one she’ll disregard, but the moment of freedom is nice.

Her eyes are too serious as she looks at him, a quick scan up and down. To check if he’s joking? Does she see how ‘the truth set him free’ there? A corny saying, but he can admit it feels better than the snarling smothering force jabbing at his heart. “But you are?”

Not a statement. A question. All he has to do is laugh and lie again. So why- “No. I don’t think I am.”

#Danny Phantom #phic fight #phic fight 2021 #team ghost #angst #because i have to make up for that wholesome cujo one somehow #the prompt is so good?#all i did was throw more words at it tbh

70 notes · View notes

darthkruge · 3 years

Note

heyy Megan, I'm trying to do a character study on Anakin but im finding very limited information online. what do you think are some of his worst and best traits? his personality, humor and like his values? thank you so much,, hope you have a good day/night

omg hi!! thank you for asking me!!

*cracks knuckles* let’s get into it

anakin skywalker character analysis

best traits:

intelligence, overall skill, curiosity

anakin was building droids from scraps when he was a child. he spoke huttese and basic from a young age, as well. he’s an insane battle strategist, wonderfully skilled in battle/with a lightsaber, and incredible pilot! he can pick up new skills quickly, as well. i’m just gonna link this post by @chokemeanakin bc it just sums it up real nice.. but yes smart boy love him

compassion, capacity for emotions, empathy, understanding

anakin feels things deeply. i’ve talked about this a lot before lol. but yeah he is frequently in conflict over the sheer weight of the emotions he carries. further, as a jedi, this is not something his peers could relate to. but he always tries to be there for his friends and would do anything to ease their pain. and i think that anakin seeks to understand others. he’s spent so much of his life feeling alone and like no one related to him; he wants to know how other people work, feel, and think.

loyalty, friendship, caring

anakin is so fucking loyal to those he loves. and, tying into my previous point, he loves deeply. he cares, he always has. he treats droids as humans and forms attachments, even though they may be forbidden. he held onto that need for love, for connection even after he joined the order. and he would defend those he loves til the very end...

selflessness, protectiveness, bravery

anakin would literally dive headfirst into danger to save someone he loves. he doesn’t care about hurting himself or honestly whatever happens to him, as long as those he cares for are safe.

worst traits:

impulsivity, recklessness

i think we’ve all seen anakin be a bit impulsive at times... sometimes, he just doesn’t think everything through. this is especially clear when someone he loves is in danger. anakin’s lost so many people that when he’s faced with the threat of losing another, his judgment can become clouded.

insecurity, jealousy, fear

anakin is frequently jealous, which stems from his insecurities. he was probably conflicted a lot; brought into the order as a young child and told he was the chosen one. the weight of the galaxy was placed on his shoulders and, yet, he was held back in classes as a padawan, he didn’t make rank (canonically). i think these things are what allowed palpatine to manipulate him; palpatine knew anakin was afraid, insecure, and, yet, arrogant (my next point dw). he tapped into this and because anakin and the council did not have much mutual trust (aside from like obi-wan), it was easier to get to him. especially because palpatine used anakin’s fear of losing padme and his unborn children to do so. fuck palpatine bro-

arrogance

yes, anakin was insecure. yes, he was also arrogant. let me explain myself. he occassionally rushes into things without thinking, thinking he can handle them. i think a lot of this stems from being told he was the chosen one from such a young age. that title combined with his skill?! it makes sense he’d internalize it. i am now going to stop myself before i rant about how the gifted education system is a fuckfest. this is coming from someone who spent years in that program. anyway-

personality/overall rant about his life/motivations:

i think i summed up a lot of his personality within the best and worst traits because i got ahead of myself but im going to say some more!! i think a lot of anakin’s personality is dependent on his deep capacity for emotions. you can see that throughout ROTS, he was conflicted almost all the time. he grew up as a slave and all he wanted was to protect his mother. he built droids to help her and competed in podraces to tryand get them anything that could help.

then, he was taken to the order. suddenly, all these amazing traits he has make sense!! but then the person who’s supposed to train him (qui-gon) dies after anakin’s only known him for a short period of time. anakin’s attachment issues are abundant (i don’t think i need to explain that one) so of course he grows close to obi-wan! but obi-wan was trying to be strong for anakin. even though obi-wan struggled himself with attachment, he tried to be strong and put up a front as a “good” jedi for anakin to look up to. while this was helpful, anakin probably just felt more conflicted, as no one in his life could relate to the bredth of emotions he felt. this caused him to be more introverted and withdrawn (i talk about that in this post)

then, he loses his mother, she dies in his arms. the only person he’d wanted to protect from a young age, who he left to join the jedi, dies in his arms. he blames himself for this, thinking he should have gotten there faster, should have done something more. he probably also blamed the jedi, to at least some extent. why do these powers matter if they can’t save the people he loves? i believe he acted out of anger, killing the tuskens, because (at least to some degree) of the jedi. instead of teaching him how to express his emotions (pain, fear, loss, grief, etc.), they train him. to some degree, he might think all he’s good for is these skills. so he acts out of anger, slaughtering them.

and then finally he finds someone who loves him in the way he wants to be loved. padme stays by his side, even after he killed the tuskens. she sees the good in him and treats him as a man, not a prophecy. but once again, this motif of fear remains! he has to hide this love, one of the only pure and good things in his life! he has to live in fear every second of every day because, if the council finds out that he found happiness and love, everything is ruined.

but then he starts getting the vision’s that padme will die. and not just padme, now his unborn children could die, too. the one thing he has that is good and purely his could now be ripped away. he knew he was helpless, knew there was nothing he could do to stop it by himself. the council isn’t that helpful, telling him to learn to let it go with the force. while that might help any other jedi, it just pushed anakin away. he would never be able to just surrender and let go to the force, not when the life of his entire family is at risk!

and he finds palpatine, someonoe who has spent years trying to manipulate him. but palpatine is smart, he’s cunning. anakin didn’t know what the real intentions were and, truly, he probably didn’t want to know. he was blinded by his fear and if anything could save padme, he would do it. then the council try to get him to spy on palpatine. again, conflict. anakin’s loyalty is repeatedly questioned and pushed and prodded, he was probably so confused! he didn’t know who to trust. but, when you combine the current situation with his backstory with who he is and what he cares about, it makes sense why it all happened.

this is what i mean when i say conflict. he was pulled in a million directions constantly. and we all know how his story ends and i don’t want to cry so i’m not gonna detail it...

also: i’m not saying any of this excuses all of his choices, but it does explain them.

humor:

lowkey a dork

he is. and i love that about him. you can see this in the way he flirts with padme sometimes... like floating the pear to her and the whole “i don’t like sand” thing. he’s a fucking dork. can’t exactly blame him nor do i hold it against him! he didn’t have many close friends growing up and he was like pining for padme for years so it’s not like he spent that time creating a playbook

he’s also witty!

i think this comes with his intelligence; he’s witty and he’s quick. example: “general grievous, you’re shorter than i expected.” i mean he’s no sass-king obi-wan kenobi but anakin definitely can hold his own in a verbal sparring match!

also i headcanon him as having horrible puns but loving them!

values:

love, friendship, connections

at his core, anakin just wants to find someone who understands him and his emotions. who can relate to him. he wants those connections; in fact, he actively seeks them out. love is a key part of his identity. i talk about this in this post about his love languages so imma just link it there!

success, validation

tying into his determination, anakin wants to do well! he pushes himself and i think he’s a perfectionist, too. you can see this in the way he holds himself as a general; he doesn’t slack off, doesn’t not care. he understands the responsibility he has in that role and he takes it seriously! and just in his overall skill level, even though he was a bit of a child-prodigy, he clearly spent a long time training. he probably also had some imposter syndrome going on and was constantly trying to prove his worth.

----

uhh yeah i think i got everything?? yes?? he’s so complex and i legit love him immensely. doing character analysis for anakin is my favorite thing in the entire universe! if anyone has anything they want to add, please feel free!!

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker character analysis #anakin character analysis #this is a rant i apologize #anakin thoughts #character analysis

106 notes · View notes

maxwell-grant · 3 years

Note

So, any thoughts on The Green Lama (who unexpectedly became one of my faves), the Pulp Hero who is also a Superhero?

Much like other pulp heroes of the time, The Green Lama had multiple secret identities and a massive supporting cast aiding him in his quest for justice. Unlike his contemporaries, The Green Lama eschewed guns in favor of radioactive salts, magic, and sleight of hand. He rarely, if ever, killed his enemies. His tales also had an advanced sense of continuity, with characters growing and changing over time, plot points introduced in one story paying off several tales later. The Green Lama is a character of contradictions, driven forward by a faith he is forced to betray. It makes him flawed and imperfect, and in that way, one of the most human of all pulp heroes - The Green Lama: Scions

While not the "only" example of a pulp hero who is a superhero, The Green Lama is arguably the one who leans the most into the superhero aspect out of all the classic 30s pulp heroes that usually get brought up. I would argue that The Green Lama is the most direct answer to the question "what happens when you combine The Shadow and Superman together", considering he was modeled extensively after both in his forays into pulp, radio and comic books, and has also grown into his own character.

He's got the unique skills bordering on superpowers (that eventually became outright superpowers). He's got pretty much The Spectre's costume, except of course he came first. He's an urban costumed crimefighter wh deals with gangsters and criminal masterminds, and yet has an extremely strong stance against killing and carrying guns under any circumstance, even saying they would make him no better than the criminals he fights, which makes him by default the pulp hero that Batman would get along best with. The comics took it way further even turning the “Om Ma-ne Pad-me Hum” chant into a Shazam! transformation cry (Shazam came first, although the two debuted in the same year).

He's got a suitably punchy and dramatic origin: guy spends 10 years in Tibet and returns to America intend on spreading Buddhism's pacifist doutrine, only to witness the murder of children at the hands of mobsters the literal second he steps off the boat, and after spending restless days in the police station to see if they would find the culprit, he sees the killer walk out of the commissioner's office free, which convinces him he needs to take up crimefighting because the police are useless, and he outright calls the police "incompetent" in a letter to the papers that he uses to introduce himself to the world, which is not something you find often in 30s/40s fiction even if's an implicit part of the pulp hero/superhero fantasy.

He had a stronger sense of continuity than most pulp heroes were usually afforded. He has a lot of the pulp hero stock and trade like the assistants and the pseudo-science and the odd radio gadgets and of course the Orientalism that we'll get into, but remixed in a pretty cool way that allows him to stand out from his inspiration. He's got incredibly weird aspects to him like the fact that he gets enhanced abilities from crystallized salt or even becoming radioactive (which could be interesting to explore considering "radiation" became the go-to origin for superpowers in the 60s). He's got an allright supporting cast and Magga, while ultimately a deus ex machina, is a very interesting addition to it and I wish her mystery was played up more often in subsequent stories past the original run. There's a lot about The Green Lama that really works, he was incredibly successful at the time and he's managed to thrive over the years lot more than most of his contemporaries

Despite all the powers he wielded he felt impotent, nothing more than a rich boy playing the games of gods. He had chosen the path of the Bodhisattva, sacrificing himself for the good of all sentient beings, but even so the weight of responsibility, the lives of so many in his hands, threatened to crush him. It was tempting to turn away, to deny his calling, but the life of a Bodhisattva demanded more; and it was only recently that he had begun to realize how much it truly required.

The main problem with The Green Lama, and by problem I mean "the character works fine for his time but this is seriously holding him back from becoming sustainable again", is the fact that he's a white rich man who fights crime by going as hard into Orientalism tropes as possible, which is inescapably baked into the premise.

Now, I will argue that The Green Lama was, for his time, a progressive character. The Buddhist aspects of his character weren't just backstory fodder or an excuse for his superpowers as they were to pretty much every other character at the time, Jethro was a practicing Buddhist, who fought crime informed by his beliefs, trying to respect them (and not exactly succeeding) and offering a wholly positive perspective of Buddhism. Nowadays, it creates a problem, but at the time, it made the character stand out from every other hero who had "traveled to Tibet" checked out, because Tibet and Buddhism were heavily incorporated into the character. The Lama may have been born merely out of a desire to cash in on The Shadow's newfound radio popularity, but Crossen took it much more seriously than his contemporaries and made it an effort to instill admiration in his readers towards what he was referencing, which he was pulling from books about the subject and the Pali language. Is research the bare minimum? Yes. But it’s a bare minimum that even today’s writers don’t do even having an infinitely bigger wealth of information at their disposal.

To further cement my point: There's a particular Green Lama comic story called The Four Freedoms, which is about the Lama receiving a letter from a fan in the army who's worried about a racist private who keeps insulting the black privates while crowing about racial superiority, and so the Lama kidnaps the private and takes him on a tour through Germany so he can witness firsthand how his talk aligns with Nazi ideology, even specifically referring to Jim Crow's laws, criticizing how easily Americans fall for racial war rhetoric, and pointing out the idea of racism as a tool of tyrants to divide and conquer. It's not my place to champion this as some great representation and that's not what I'm doing, but if this all seems passe or simplistic or even problematic to you, trust me, this was still the era of Slap-A-Jap Superman, stories like this were absolutely not the norm at the time, even in other stories where superheroes dealt with racial discrimination.

He even caps off the story by stating that punching or ending Hitler is not the solution (although he lets Jones take a couple of swings) because Hitler is just one part of a much bigger problem that needs to be fought on all of it's forms. It's all very much afterschool special/anti-racism PSA, sure, but it's easier to mock those in our time. You find me a Golden Age superhero comic that shits on Jim Crow specifically while the hero tells the reader that Hitler is not the ultimate evil but merely "a cog in the wheel", part of a problem that's deeply entrenched in America's own shores (really, do, I'm genuinely curious if more of them did anything like this).

Does any part of what I said negates the fact that, at the end of the day, he's still a white man using Orientalism mysticism to fight crime? No, it doesn't. And if Iron Fist can't get away with it, if Dr Strange only just barely does, the Green Lama sure as hell can't. And you cannot downplay those aspects either lest you end up with a completely different character. It's a bit of a conundrum that makes the character tricky to approach from a revival perspective.

I completely agree with what you said here, Green Lama would benefit from a Legacy Hero approach very strongly. And Green Lama: Scions opens up an interesting possibility of Jethro Dumont not being quite what he seems, backed up by the fact that he wore disguise make-up in the original stories:

They had a lot of names for him in the papers—the Verdant Avenger, the Mysterious Man of Strength—but Reynolds had always been partial to “Buddhist Bastard.” No one had ever seen his face or, at the very least, the same face. Seemed like everyone had a different story. The Green Lama was white, he was black, he was asian, he was old, and he was young. You could fill a room of witnesses and no two would describe the same person.

Really I think if you just got rid of that one thing that holds the Lama back the most from catching on in modern times, I think he's the kind of character that lends itself a lot to long-term sustainability. He's already fairly popular as is, definitely an indispensable inclusion of any shared pulp hero or Golden Age superhero universe and definitely one of my favorites among the 30s American pulp heroes. And there’s ways to make the concept more interesting and workable.

Maybe The Green Lama is just a title that's been going on for generations, with Jethro being one of many to fill in. Maybe Magga used to be it, maybe the tulku that instructed Jethro did, maybe there's a new character with it. Maybe Jethro is just an identity used by an Asian-American adventurer to operate safely in the US, or maybe Jethro has a sort of Lamont Cranston arrangement going on. Maybe he's part of the reason why Tibet was the superpower capital of the world in the 30s or 40s, or part of the reason why radiation started granting so many heroes superpowers in the 60s.

The character's skillset has been fairly "anything goes" ever since his author made him a flying superman for the comics, and really he already started out being able to deliver electric shocks through his fingers by guzzling radioactive salts. He's a very weird character, and I will always argue that weird is what works best for the pulp heroes.

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #comic books #comics #the green lama #jethro dumont #alex ross

32 notes · View notes

sepublic · 4 years

Text

I love Eda. I just… LOVE how great of a parent she is, how she always makes it clear to Luz that she doesn’t expect anything of her, like in the Season Finale when she tells Luz that it’s not her fault, that Luz is a kid and she shouldn’t expect herself to rescue Eda; Eda made her own decisions, Luz is a CHILD and she needs to prioritize her own wellbeing! She is perfect and lovable as-is, Luz doesn’t have to do anything to earn Eda’s love…

And then when Luz chickens out of fighting Grom, Eda doesn’t hold it against her! She tells Luz that it’s okay to make mistakes, that it’s fine for her to get in over her head, Luz isn’t a bad person for not living up to her role as a ‘hero’ to take on Grom… She’s just a kid, she shouldn’t have to handle this- And again, it’s not dismissive of Luz, either! When Eda reiterates to Luz that she’s a child, and that it’s best for the adults to be responsible in providing actual support and care towards Luz (and that she is rightfully entitled to that care), she doesn’t patronize Luz! Eda doesn’t remind Luz is a child to dismiss her, she does it to reassure her…

And I really love how Eda is making it clear to Luz that this girl deserves so much, that she’s right to ask for things- She’s not being greedy, and she’s not being a burden! Luz deserves the world and the chance to fully indulge herself and who she is… Eda has no expectations for Luz, she just wants to support Luz in whatever she chooses to come, while occasionally providing protection and support- Because she’s an adult. And Eda wants Luz to understand that adults and parents (surrogate or otherwise) are 100% expected to do the best for kids, and that children shouldn’t hold themselves to any standards or expectations put upon them.

Like the beginning of The First Day! It’s a funny joke, but also so sweet and meaningful, how Eda keeps giving Luz the chance to back out… She’s not actively dissuading Luz from joining Hexside, she’s just making it clear that if Luz ever decides to change her mind, she’s valid! Eda’s not going to hold it over her head, say I Told You So… Eda just wants the best for Luz and she trusts Luz’s judgment on what’s the best for herself. If Luz changes her mind and decides to back out of Hexside, then she’s perfectly valid- Just as she’s valid for going to Hexside in the first place! Luz isn’t a coward, Eda isn’t going to harshly hold her to her word or anything… Luz is allowed to make mistakes, Eda wants Luz to know that she’ll never force her to do something that truly makes her uncomfortable. Eda’s not going to hold it against Luz if she’s ever wrong about anything, all Eda wants is to be a safety net for Luz, so that Luz is free to explore different options as much as she wants without having to worry about being hurt in the process!

Eda isn’t encouraging Luz to be a Quitter… She’s just letting the girl know that this an option, without trying to undermine Luz’s decision to go to Hexside, if she decides to go through with it in the end. Eda makes it clear to Luz that there’s no shame in prioritizing one’s health and safety over proving a point, she’s here to relieve any burdens from Luz… And Luz, this means SO MUCH to her! I don’t think she’s ever had an adult who’s been so unconditionally accepting and supportive before… The closest was her mother Camila, but as a single mom and a nurse, you KNOW Camila’s job is busy enough to create a distance between her and Luz, amidst Camila admittedly not accepting Luz’s ‘quirks’, and lumping them in as the same as her character flaws at the beginning of the show.

I doubt Camila ever thought of it that way, nor did she ever implicate it- But when you’re inscure and lonely like Luz, and you rightfully feel bad for your mother who’s incredibly stressed and constantly working to pay bills and accommodate their child… It can make a kid feel like a burden sometimes, no matter how hard Camila may try not to let Luz feel that way. It’s why the Boiling Isles is amazing for Luz- She definitely had love from Camila, but the Boiling Isles, and the Owl House specifically, provides an environment where Luz can actually feel safe and free to explore herself, without any particular system bearing down on her.

Granted, there IS the Coven System, so Luz didn’t exactly escape that… But for the most part, there’s a certain relief granted to Luz ever since she arrived on the Boiling Isles. And, I think Camila would be incredibly happy to see her daughter so at ease and away from the burdens of their life in the human world, with a surrogate parent who has the time, energy, and wisdom to provide so much for Luz, when Camila otherwise has to focus on putting food on the table.

I just… LOVE Eda, and I want the best for Camila as well, so having her meet Eda would be great! And I just really appreciate how while Eda knows she’s not perfect and that even she has much to learn from life… She’s still clearly learned a lot. She never dismisses Luz and lets her feelings be valid while taking them into account, like when she responds to Luz’s complaints in Adventures in the Elements… Eda doesn’t want to burden Luz and make the girl feel obligated to be her caretaker as the curse gets worse.

She prioritizes Luz so much more than just a means to an end, or a student to show off her teaching prowess- Yeah she made that initial mistake in Covention, but clearly Eda has grown since then! You can really tell that Eda learned and encourages others to be themselves, how she’s grappled with a system with such expectations and rejected it, and how it influences the way she interacts with other characters. She experienced first-hand a conformative system, and Eda decided that nobody else should ever have to feel like how she, or any of her peers, ever did! Eda was so badly hurt and traumatized, but she never got bitter. She never got entitled. Eda didn’t use her pain nor her trauma as an excuse to lash out at others, or as a justification for any flaws and mistakes on her own end.

Eda certainly doesn’t want to project onto people, she wants people to exist completely free of any kind of restraints like that, and she’ll fight even herself to ensure the best for everyone! Because that’s just what Eda wants… the best for everyone, and she’s no doubt SO proud of Luz for managing to make a change that really implements this wish, even if Eda doesn’t hold Luz to keep up with this role. Eda always makes sure to remind Luz, consistently, that she’s free to do pursue whatever path she wants for herself, that Eda isn’t going to be disappointed in her, and that Eda is THERE to provide for Luz and take the burden for her- Because Luz is a kid, so she deserves to just go out, and enjoy herself!

Eda tells Luz that she has a lot to offer the world herself- That Eda WILL listen to her, that Luz is so smart and clever and wise in her own way. Eda makes Luz feel valid and understood by actively listening to her, Eda reassures Luz that she isn’t just some dumb kid- Luz’s ideas have plenty of worth in their own right, Luz can teach Eda a lot herself as well! And it’s all just so… HONEST, refreshing, and validating to see Eda be so upfront and take so much initiative into providing this kind of reassurance, verbally and out loud without any room for doubt, to Luz! Eda isn’t trying to be coy, she’s honest and communicative, genuine, and upfront about who she is, and what she believes in!

In a sense, Eda’s kind of illuminating in her own way, like Luz, showing Luz that she’s not a freak nor a loser or idiot, but a wonderful and creative person! Which fits, because Luz and Eda are two sides of the same coin! It really is refreshing and relieving to see such a mature, kindly, and providing mentor/parental figure. Eda will never blame Luz or try to hold her accountable to someone else’s mistakes, least of all of her own… Luz deserves to be completely unvinvolved and free of that kind of mess.

Eda makes it clear to Luz that it’s not Luz who’s the failure, it’s the adults/system who are at fault for not being good enough… It’s so genuinely selfless, and in a way that still provides plenty of room for Eda to be herself, and to encourage Luz to do the same! Eda really went through a lot of missed-out experiences and decided that everybody else should get them, without forcing these experiences onto people to vicariously live out a missed youth, either! Luz and Eda really feed and play into one another as such a healthy and loving dynamic and relationship… It’s just UTTERLY WHOLESOME, and my heart can’t take it!

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #the owl house luz #luz noceda #meta

156 notes · View notes