#I drew this ages ago and just didn't post it anywhere | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

substantial-exposure · 7 months ago

Text

Happy Bad Batch Day! This idea came in hot and it hasn't left me at all. I had to post a day late but shhh

This is just a Dasibri and Ventress lore drop lolz

Warnings: mentions of character death, lightsaber duel, impalement w a lightsaber, blasters and general angst?

The force occupied the space of Dasibris mind frequently. It would hum in her ears and trail in an out. It was comforting, steady, and reliable. But right here, and right now, as she stood on the other end of the island, it sang. With volume and decibel loud enough to make her ears ring and her head pound.

She had been enjoying the afternoon to herself. She'd taken a nice stroll around the fog covered island and taken a trip to the market. Within seconds the locally grown produce had become the least of her worries. Everything had been perfectly normal as she stood on the permacrete stone. And then the humming started. She had found that on Pabu there was never much need for concern. The nudging warnings from the force were usually for children running by or falling baskets. But this... this was something else. The usual humming turned sour, filling her ears with a noise so intense, it ached. All of her senses were on high alert. Her head felt just as foggy and dense as the island she stood on.

The force lacked its usual familiar gentle nudge it usually gave to guide her. Instead it felt as though it was pulling her, ripping her away and begging her to return back home. And what kind of Jedi would she be if she refused the force?

She bolted. The last time she felt an urgency like this... well she tried not to think about it. With her basket in hand, she ran through the streets. Robes and cloak flowing behind her as she called upon the force to aid her in speed and strength. What was going on? What could it possibly be?

Dasibri dodged people, carts, and children all during her mad dash back home. As she thought about what it could be, she didn't like where her head went. 'It's the Empire. They're here. Kriff, what if something happened to Crosshair? I cant lose him again. I cant. No wait! What if something happened to Omega? What if she got hurt? What if Omega is like seriously hurt? Can I save her? What if I cant stop it? I can stop it. Of course I can stop it. I have to." In her own self induced panic she found herself picking up speed until finally she let the force pull her to the entrance of the cavern by the shore.

Dasibri felt danger in the air, she felt it and then she could hear it. The sound of scuffling, of grunting, blasterfire, and then finally the constant and steady hum of a lightsaber.

Finally, inside the cave and seeing with her own eyes, Dasibri nearly doubled over from the sight. Crosshair, Wrecker, and Hunter wee huddled up and shooting at a woman with a yellow lightsaber. The air smelt of electricity. Her eyes narrowed in on that woman. Dasibri would know her anywhere. She would be able to know her while blind.

Asajj Ventress.

Without thinking, without any care or concern, disregarding the guilt and second guessing that had plagued her so long ago, Dasibri drew her saber from her belt. She hadn't even reached for it. Before she could even think it, her blade snapped into her hand. Bright emerald green light emanating from the blade and illuminated her face. She had reached out and she had already known it in her bones that this was not an illusion or trick and was just as real as the metal in her hand.

The two girls had crossed paths plenty during the war. Enough for a very personal distain to grow between the two. They had crossed paths again, even after Asajj had apparently "renounced the Sith". Something Dasibri didn't believe a word of. People could change but not like that.

It was a long time ago and by now it had felt like ages. It was Dasibri's most disgraceful act.

Within no time at all, their history of violence and detestation of eachother rose quickly. They had crossed blades once again and fought like they had so many times before, only this time, it was different. It had only ended once one of them was dead. Dasibri had lost herself in Vaapad.

She had let herself become an open channel to the force. It is truth to say that she had been enjoying this fight far too much. More than any Jedi should. She'd been so immersed in Vaapad, too eager to end this fight once and for all, that she didn't stop. She didn't allow herself to. There was a split moment in the force where she knew she could end the fight without bloodshed. But she didn't listen. The fight would only stop once her opponent was dead.

And that was exactly how Dasibri had left her. Dead.

She knew it wasn't right, she knew she shouldn't have wanted it. But as soon as she saw her lightsaber beaming through the stomach and protruding out the back of Asajj, she knew she had won. It scared her more than anything. It had felt like a victory, it almost felt good. It felt like that for a minute but after... that was a different story.

The murder had eaten her alive. She had sulked and contemplated it for months after it had happened. Was it a misstep or had it been fully intentional? Could it of been an influence from the dark side that she'd exposed herself to? Even she didn't know the truth. But Dasibri knew herself well enough to guess the answer. She had let it happen. It was wrong and she shouldn't have done it. She should of found a way to make peace, or even taken her in alive, but she didn't. Channeling the force in all of its whole left room for the darkness as well as the light. Back then she had still had her Master at her side. Mace Windu had dutifully helped her through it to the best of his ability. He had made sure that she used Vaapad instead of it using her. After the murder of Asajj Ventress Dasibri had become a husk.

But standing in this cave, watching Ventress go against her husband and his brothers, she simply didn't care. Watching Crosshair brace himself for impact as Ventress threw him to the ground, she disregarded it all. The Nightsister had kicked Hunter down and left him on the ground. Her saber drawn and ready. Dasibri took a deep breath and put aside all of that guilt and pain. She tuned out the memories of the path she had walked and of the nightmares that followed. Nights of anxiety induced nausea. Regret so deep that no amount of meditation could rid. Dasibri had been put through hell and yet without a second thought, she leapt right back into the fight to do it all over again. The same fight that had followed her throughout the war. The fight she tried for too long to forget.

But it didn't matter. It was the fight that she had never left.

She would go through it all again to protect them. To protect anyone. She would put her fragile heart between any evil and anyone it ever dared try to touch. Asajj Ventress was back from the dead and it seemed Dasibris methods would have to rise back up to the challenge.

Ventress' voice snaked its way into the ears of everyone present. "Dasibri Taraay. I should of known you'd be here" she spat. She didn't bother to fix her hair, it fell slightly before her eyes as she tried to stare down the Jedi a few feet from her. Her armored hand and arm dropped, subsequently dropping Wrecker who she had been suspending in a force grip. "Now contrary to what you might think, I wasn't the one who escalated this."

The woman's words left a trail up Dasibris spine. Her feet moved against stone and within the blink of an eye, Dasibri was full force swinging her blade. Every strike had the potential for a deadly final blow. Gone were the days of exquisite displays and grandiose technique.

"I thought you died a long time ago." Dasibri muttered out. Her green blade held off the yellow one that was being thrown her way. "Then again... I'm not surprised you found a way to kark that up too" she grumbled.

"Dasibri..." Ventress said as if scolding her. The yellow blade slid off from the deflection. "How unbecoming of you." She said smoothly as the other woman swung at her. Ventless held her own saber and used it to hold off the attack. "It seems you really missed me." She chuckled.

The Jedi wasn't sure what to say in response. Something witty, something threatening. But all she could think about was her inner calling to vanquish the threat that lied in front of her.

Ventress pushed back her blade and let Dasibri take a few staggering steps back. The Jedi tried to keep her feet planted into the ground, she used it to hold herself and push herself forward. However the 'bounty hunter' called upon the force and leapt into the air, shooting herself backwards a few yards and taking stance. Ventress twirled her blade and looked across the cave to the Jedi.

The dance was on and the fight continued.

The Nightsister held her ready stance as she spoke. "I find it intriguing they called me for help." She chuckled and looked down through her lashes. "Couldn't figure it out then hmm?" Ventress said circling the Jedi. The two women circled eachother slowly, waiting for the other to strike. And for a moment, neither of them did.

"What are you doing here?" Dasibri asked her and looked down the length of her green blade.

Ventress cocked her head upwards, a smirk plastered over her dark lips. She looked smug as ever, happy to have a victory over the other girl. "Fennec reached out. It appeared you and your battalion of clones here had some questions." She said as she got closer. The circle was growing smaller, they were getting closer now. "I find it hard to believe that you had no idea about the kid." She continued. "Losing your touch, huh? Or was this a trap all along? Why didn't you tell them the truth?" She asked looking between the Jedi and the three soldiers that stood on the sidelines watching.

"I'm not an idiot." Dasibri answered. "Of course I knew." She grumbled and finally made the move to strike. Ventress immediately moved to deflect it. They continued on like that for what felt like a lifetime. Their altercation illuminated the cavern with sparks of lights. "I thought I'd finally gotten some peace and quiet from you." Dasibri said again after a moment. "How are you... how are you even here?" She had asked as Ventress held her blade tightly.

The Nightsisters blade was held against the Jedis, they intersected right before their faces. Ventress spoke happily. "You may have ended one life... but I have enough left to finally finish you off." Her threat almost sounded like a promise.

Dasibri looked at her. "Maybe... but you're going to need them all for that." She had said warningly. This fight would last until they tired themselves out and began to slip up. That was how it would always go. Until their were called off, maimed, or killed.

Ventress knew she could redeem herself in this moment. She could end the life that had taken hers. Finally, another point on the board. But even now she didn't agree with that sentiment. Maybe this didn't have to end this way. It was odd for her to have such revelations in the middle of a battle. She wasn't exactly the forgiving type. Especially under the circumstances when staring at the woman who kriffing killed her.

As Dasibri sank further into Vaapad, losing herself inside the fight in more ways than one, her blade moved wickedly fast. Ventress had remembered just how fast once she had to counter each and every strike. She couldn't even see which direction the Jedi's saber was coming from, it felt like it was coming from everywhere all at once. She found herself relying on feeling where it was, rather than seeing.

The rocks hadn't gotten any less algae slicken, and Dasibri used the strength she pulled from all areas of the force, to make the Nightsister back up towards them. Dasibri used strength and will alone to back the renounced Sith into a corner.

Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair all stood on the side lines. Watching with their mouths agape in horror. This was... not the average fight. They hadn't seen this side of Dasibri since the war. Even then she seemed to be consumed in her form of practice. Crosshair was worried. Very worried. He had no way of helping but he wasn't quite sure what he could even begin to do to help.

Fast footsteps reverberated through the cavern. Omega and her trusty side-kick Batcher had both come bolting into the cave. The young girl held a white flower in her hand, high over her head and she waved it joyously. "I got the-" she had begun to say long before her eyes finally registered what was going on.

Her eyes widened in shock. Dasibri held Ventress against the rocks, there was barely a breath of space between them. The light of their sabers were bright in the cave as the night sky darkened and the sun disappeared from outside. Omega watched as Dasibri pressed further on with her blade, which in turn brought Ventress's blade even closer to her own face. The Nightsisters expression turned into a scowl.

"What's going on in here!" Omega nearly yelled. Her voice and volume demanded an answer. She stood a step back, distancing herself from the fight. Her gaze faltered between the bounty Hunter, Jedi, and her brothers.

Crosshair and Hunter both had dashed across the cavern to stand in front of the girl. Their guns raised and ready just incase Ventress managed to find an out and try to hurt the girl. Of course she never would of dreamed it but the clones certainly didn't know that.

Omegas voice seemed to snap the Jedi back to reality.

"She was helping us! Dasibri! What are you doing?" She asked loudly. Omega shoved her way between Hunter and Crosshair, standing in front of them and begging the Jedi to come to her senses and explain what had transpired inside the cave.

"Helping you? Omega, do you know who this is?" Dasibri said looking over her shoulder to glance at the girl. "She doesn't help people. She kills them." The Jedi explained and turned her gaze back to the woman held up against the rocks.

"and you don't!" Omega argued back. She took a few steps closer. She didn't notice Crosshair try and reach out after her and pull her back, he had missed her by an inch. "Dasibri you're a Jedi! You don't kill people" the girl said moving closer. Omega met eyes with Ventress. "You were helping me right?" She had asked.

Ventress let out a gruff from the effort of trying to keep Dasibri at bay. Her voice was strained as she spoke. "You asked me to test you. That was exactly what I was doing" she said turning her gaze to the Jedi above her. As the light reflected in Dasibri's eyes, Ventress lifted her leg and managed to knee the girl in the stomach and use the momentum to kick her back. While sending the other girl a few stumbling steps backwards Ventress sent herself airborne for a single second. Enough time to perch herself on top of the rock she'd just been held against. "I came here to help." She repeated looking the Jedi in the eyes. "That is all." She clarified.

Dasibri stood panting.

That was when the most surprising thing could of happened. Ventress turned off her saber and stood to her full height. Dasibris eyebrows knit in confusion.

"I never came here to fight. I had no idea you'd even be here." The Nightsister confessed as she jumped down and stood before the other woman. "Why don't.. why don't we talk." She said cautiously. This had been a feud that had spanned years now. And it seemed now, if Dasibri allowed it, they could both throw in the towel and call the whole thing off. It was the right thing to do. The Jedi thing to do.

But deep down, Dasibri didn't know what action to take. She could feel the aura radiating off of Ventress and it seemed genuine. This could end. Distant memories came to light. She remembered a very important lesson she'd learned once. The battle of Geonosis could of been thwarted by a single death. Mace Windu had once said "It could happen again. It will happen again." And everyday Dasibri made sure that she remembered it. If you are going to strike, make sure it's enough. She never wanted to hold a regret of that caliber. She wouldn't let herself be deceived.

She wasn't stupid enough to trust blindly.

Then again, in what universe did this make sense? Asajj Ventress trying to negotiate peace? That was the realization that brought Dasibri back to her feet and finally close her blade. When all choices seem wrong, choose restraint. And that was exactly what she did.

She clipped her hilt back onto her belt.

There's a part two for this in the works rn (as in the mental aftermath, it's just angst)

#star wars #the bad batch #bad batch #star wars fic #crosshair #star wars oc #jedi oc #dasibri taraay #Hunter #wrecker #asajj ventress #the bad batch fic #the bad batch season 3 spoiler #the bad batch spoilers #spoilers #tbb crosshair #crosshair x oc

14 notes · View notes

redtoondevils · 9 months ago

Text

Little Nightmares 3 event. Re occurring enemy.

I'm saying this for myself at this rate. From Youtube, to here a lot of people, and Little Nightmares fans are still depicting Six to be evil, and to become a villain. She's this one character that had turned evil. Or 'Evil.' Because of her dark magic.

That's because that's her story. But each kid has his, or her story. And another kid, with how it would be told. would turn evil too. Mentioning the Pretender, she turned out to be an evil child.

She was spoiled, and entitled. And she wanted to gather a collection, by kidnapping/Loring children into her palace, and collect them as dolls.

Or she turns them into dolls, but that's the speculation theory. And before that in Pale city, Six actually had a friend. The pretender went after the rain coat girl, or the RK girl.

And Six tried to help her. She is speculated to be the girl, found in the photograph, with the short black hair, and the white clothing, with the white underpants looks like to be Six. And Six appears in the same clothes from the VLN game, as the photo that shows her white clothing.

Furthermore, with her detail with her white clothing. You do see them, her wearing them from her sweat suit, or under her raincoat. That her shorts are still visible.

After when Six defeats the Pretender, she accidently knocks her best friend off. Ever since the ending of LN 2, is when people got into a riot.

Including myself. I even thought that if she didn't care about Mono, then she's a bitch. But, another Little Nightmares Fan drew a comic based on the ending, that gave me another point of view. It's posted on DA, all credit goes to her:

Another look at the final. by Nis-Little-Arts on DeviantArt

The Image looks like this:

Now, even though this is a head cannon of hers, but it is based on the final ending. This is her illustration of 'Let's take another look.' But, the speculation with Six being the Lady. It's all up to speculation. (I don't think so really.) But yeah...It's been around for a while.

Okay, so this was posted 4 years ago. At first, I thought it was three. Then I remembered that it's 2024. But, as you can see, is that each character is shown with respect.

No one is good, no one is evil, it's just showing their character arc, and their story, In a very tragic and poetic kind of way. That shows their friendship, and their romantic relationship portrayed from the past, to the future. And it continues on in the cycle.

It looks like they're pulling away, but they can't go anywhere. What pisses me off about this, for a number of reasons, but this one in particular when they're saying, 'It's her FAULT! She started this!'

And yes, I did drop a comment, stating on Youtube that she did start this horrible loop. That was years ago, too.

By the looks of it, but now looking back on it. You see that the signal tower is looking to be supernatural itself. She was responsible for letting him go down there. To say, if she started the Loop herself. Not then to say, it was the Signal tower that started it.

But, since that had been said enough times, especially with the 'Long live the king!' Joke, is repetitive, and annoying. I will add, if she did not care about Mono, I think she was not using him, just to satisfy her fulfillment.

Another thing that annoys me, is that some people say that she absorbed Mono's powers, to get through the TV. When the portal was already open? Sorry, I have to say something about this. I've been wanting to for ages.

Again this statement was so quick to judge, with no given context but to say that she's a leech, and she took his powers to survive.

But, from the first game, when she is trying to survive in the Maw, there is no details to fill in the blanks, of why she couldn't just teleport away, needing to reclaim the Lady's powers, to make herself powerful again.

But, even still...The blame is all on her. This was her scheme, she didn't care. Where, if anything else, this just does not make sense to me. And it sound not right, for her to do that to her friend. When Mono could harness those powers to a great extent.

And that, included when she pulled him up, multiple times, where I feel she doesn't have much credit for. Who are we to say, that she took his powers when, it isn't proven yet.

Or when they use that short cutscene as 'Evidence' to say that she did, but it's only a very short cutscene. But, it still isn't enough evidence to prove, if she has done or not.

Lastly, the villain thing. I think why most people want her to show up again, as the villain is because they see her as one. I do not want her to be. I genuinely think that by saying it, is still farfetched. Or over the top, because, she is a child.

Okay, if your statement stay's on this cliche. I'll say then...Is because she does not behave like that. She isn't here to conquer the world.

She isn't here to make all the other children's lives a living hell. She's only here to tell us a story. If you think that the is the only evil child, then she is not the only one.

For her to become a villain, and give her a goal because she want's to conquer something, is just throwing an idea or wishful thinking onto her, tossing it onto her and say.

"Make her a villain." because of how she appears to be. It's also forgotten that she is not the only kid in that world, that the other kids are going through.

She prefers to stay away from them, because she is aware of what she could do to them. But she is just as vulnerable as everyone else.

I've watched a quick video that I'm glad that someone has said this, it's unpopular. This video, is from it's Just Jord, and he explains that every child is in this world for themselves. He explains more details, so I'll give the link:

This basically summarizes that, for what every kid is going through. No kid is good, no kid is evil. But, each of those kids have a story to tell, and they are going through it. Including Six. Which gives another reason why I think, that Six shouldn't be the villain, is because of this.

All because, all of her arc, isn't enough make it permanent-she's the villain. She is also being tormented, and a victim as well. Just like the other protagonists.

3 notes · View notes

athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 4 years ago

Text

Feral Fatality

(Part 1)

So this has been in my works for a week now. You see, it was a typical day for me scrolling through Tumblr and visiting some....tags, and then a short drabble inspired me to write about a feral reader totally not because I was craving violence and murder no, which reached more than 4k words on the first draft so here we are! Shitty title, I know. The proofread work went over 7k, and it's not even finished yet. Once I'm done posting this and my main orc fic, I will get into the requests so please be patient!

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Brief blood and violence at the end of the first part

Contains: Swearing, mentions of neglect and abuse (not graphic)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Screams slit through the twilight as the frigid autumn wind blew harshly through the trees of Camp Crystal Lake. The rustling of bushes and cracking of twigs echoed as foolish teenagers attempted to escape, running for their lives when they were the ones who dared step foot in the place, tarnishing it with their sins.

Jason Voorhees, the innocent kid who died several years ago; pushed to the lake by his bullies and left to drown for being different and unsightly— all because the counselors were busy with their fucking business—, returned as an undead killing machine right after his mother murdered them and died. His sole purpose: to protect the land and purge the people who had no right to be here, sentencing them to a horrendous death.

One by one, they struck the ground, lifeless, either chopped into pieces, beheaded, or stabbed countless times by his trusty machete.

Limbs...ripped off with his bare hands.

The muffled snapping of branches reached your ears as the vehicle's wheels ran over them, stirring you from your nap. You rubbed your chilled skin under your clothes as you looked out of the window, thumping your forehead on the glass when you leaned forward the moment you saw the scenery. Trees, both ancient and young, their leaves varying in hues of green, orange and red, filled your line of sight. It was still early in autumn, your favorite time of the year, not hot but not too cold either. You watched in awe as the warm-colored leaves cascaded down from the branches and down to the ground, some carried by the wind farther from their origin.

The view did its best to distract you from a couple in session a seat before yours. They always seem to do that all the time, regardless of place or occasion.

This was a week-long getaway after graduation, they said.

Nothing but a white lie.

An excuse for the girls to hook up with their campus crushes, a week of fucking and smoking drugs.

You, however, just got invited —forced— by your "friend" Eloiza, the self-proclaimed hottest girl in the entire school, typical captain of the cheerleading squad; blonde and curvy. Her words were much too sugar-coated that even a deaf person could tell she had ulterior motives.

She only planned to use you as a tool to raise her fame. A stepping stone for her own gain.

That wasn't the only reason though.

Everyone knew who you were, but only by your name. News and rumors alike spread like wildfire through gossipy mouths. Your deeds were known throughout campus.

(Y/N)(L/N), top academic competitor and multiple-award winner, a straight-A student for five years in succession. Some believed you were a genius, the rest called you insane.

You wouldn't call yourself a genius though, you did not possess the obsessive need to acquire eternal knowledge and discover the secrets of the universe as most of them do, to effortlessly solve every problem that comes their way.

If that were the case, then you wouldn't be here in the first place.

You only love learning and indulging in the beauty of Mother Nature, plus a handful of hyper-fixations.

Fine, a buttload of hyper-fixations. And such came in handy in various situations.

You were unrivaled, not one of your peers could come close to your level of wit. Many people wished to have a brain like yours, and just as many hated you for even having one, praised you just as much as slandered your name and judged you.

Despite your reputation, the poor school didn't broadcast it, at least every time. The staff probably got tired of repeating the same phrase over and over again. Which caused more than half of the whole campus to never believe you to be the one behind all of that, laughing at your face when you said your name.

"You? The (Y/N) (L/N)? Ha! As if I'd fall for that! Everyone knows how she looks. You're the absolute opposite!"

"You got to be kidding me."

"You're a joker, aren't you? Is this a prank? If so please stop it, don't pretend like you're her."

Yep, and it goes on and on and on. They were right, you didn't look like someone who would win contests or excel in class.

You constantly wore clothes that hid your form, silent unless spoken to or asked to answer, distant and reserved, you preferred the company of books and nature to the rowdiness and prying hands of humans. A sociopath they deemed you. Quite an extreme word to use when you simply wanted to enjoy the only things that made you happy in this living hell.

You only know a handful of people who approached you first-hand and praised you genuinely, even asking for an autograph, which really surprised you.

Yet, they would never understand you even if you explained, because you can't, words evade you when it comes down to voice out what you feel. Even if you can, no one would care. And even if they did? You doubt it was real. Everyone wants to use you, and they seem to believe you'd let them. You didn't trust anyone. The last time you did only left you sobbing on the dirt.

You wanted to be left alone.

To connect with nature and get as far away as possible from your parents. Parents who kept shouting profanities at each other, the main cause for your depression and anxiety levels to skyrocket, the shaking turning into trembling, 7 hours of sleep to barely a blink.

That's why you agreed to go in the first place.

You hated your household—despised it— a mess of broken shards of bottles and ceramics littered your kitchen floor more often than not. You didn't bother cleaning it up anymore, your mother would just waste away her money on more things to break and throw them at your joke of a father when they fought anyway.

Not only that, you thought...No, you believed if you worked hard to be the best and win countless competitions, your parents would give you recognition and reconcile for your sake, but no, no, no. They didn't care one bit about you or your medals, it was as if you were never even included in their lives at all. Even birthday celebrations ceased to exist in everyone's books after your 13th.

So you gave up.

Down into the void, your wishful thinking went, that they'll become better people over time, that the attention and love you deserve will be given one day. Instead, you wallowed yourself in your studies, besting everyone in everything academic. Oh, but you weren't athletic. Far from it. Damn, you were getting thin and sleep-deprived from being neglected, dark circles under your eyes every time you looked at your reflection. People hating your existence wasn't helping, some teachers even suspected you of cheating.

There's no way in hell you'd let yourself get dragged down to end up like them! You were of legal age now, a fresh graduate from high school, you doubt your parents even knew that since they didn't fucking show up on your graduation day. You were moving out of that shithole of a town. Anywhere is better than where they breathed and spat their poison.

And so here you are. Standing in this breath-taking and mysterious place. Camp Crystal Lake, it is named, secluded, barely touched by modernization as it is hidden between mountains and trees as far as the eye could see. Not to mention its namesake, the lake, you imagined it would mirror the sky, be it day or night. You loved it, you adored the fresh, breathable air that went through you the moment you stepped out of the van.

You also knew about him.

Resolved to never go back to that goddamned house, you took everything you had and needed; the special little trinkets you've collected through the years shoved into a box, the few clothes you had, art materials, and your precious books carefully packed inside a big travel bag, along with your stocked up canned goods, convenience food, snacks, and toiletries.

And other, important things.

You hauled your baggage out of the van and got off, immediately moving to the side and away from everyone.

You got used to people ignoring you that you didn't care anymore.

Why waste your time with them when you can have all of it to yourself?

Eloiza led the group into the larger cabins, the others went straight into the lake for a swim. You even notice some teens disappear into the trees, most likely for a quickie.

In return, you stayed out of their way, fully satisfied being invisible and with your own company as you trudged to a cabin, the one you caught a glimpse of earlier in the van. It was a long way's separated from the rest, closest to the forest and hidden behind a few trees.

You were panting when you finally stopped in front of it, clearly not used to walking long distances and carrying stuff near as heavy as your weight.

Upon closer inspection, you found yourself gaping at its appearance. The wooden walls lost their color as they aged, white and brown mushrooms grew on the ground along with green moss sticking to the beams, and a few vines crawling their way up and on the roof. Despite all of that, the cabin looked sturdy still.

There's this "one with nature" vibe that drew you to it, like a string pulling you closer and inviting you. Ominous most would say, but you almost cried when the rich scent of earth and oxygen filled your lungs as you took one big inhale, sighing in content for once. It was a lot smaller compared to the others, but you didn't care. As long as you were left alone with your stuff you were a-okay.

Perfect.

You turned the knob and peeked inside, letting out a small gasp and opening the door wider to see the whole thing.

Old as it is, it was proper and neat, regardless of the tiny cobwebs on the upper corners. A small, square dining table sat in the middle of the first part of the place, two wooden stools placed underneath. There were cupboards on the wall and a simple sink with an empty space to the side. You went to the next room, doorless and separated with but a wall of thick plywood. It had a single bed in the corner, off-white cotton sheets sitting atop, not a wrinkle in sight. No pillow though. There's a decent-sized closet along with a small table on one side of the bed. One of the windows had a hole in the middle, a ray of sunlight streaming in through the cracks. It was too big for the size of a gunshot, so maybe a rock.

A bit hesitant, your fingers traced the wood, feeling the inconsistent texture. When you went through the back door, your smile reached your ears when trunks of trees and bushes greeted you...

Wait, is that what you think it is?

Stepping closer to the treeline, your jaw dropped when you spotted a thicket of fruit-bearing plants past them, gathered in a tiny clearing.

Blueberries.

Purple little cuties poked out of the green shrubs, sporting a vibrant hue that caught your eye. The sun shone overhead and providing the energy they needed. Blueberries managed to grow in the area despite the trees fencing them.

Tempted and suspicious, you crouched down, inspecting the shrub if it really was a blueberry plant and not a deadly doppelganger. Once you were sure it was, (it would be hilarious if you simply died from nighshade poisoning), you plucked one and brought it to your mouth. It was sweeter than you expected, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. You hummed in delight, wiping the juice with your thumb when it dribbled out, staining your finger and lips.

You didn't want to anger anybody. Hell, coming here was already trespassing, so you didn't push your luck and left it alone, hoping they'd forgive you for picking one. They surely didn't look wild with the way they lined up.

You scanned the rest of the area, eventually going back inside to unpack after your little evaluation.

The sun was a hand's away from setting when you finished. Pride swelled in your chest at the work you did, your things stocked and organized with care inside the cabinets and drawers. You won't have to worry about your food for now as cupboards were filled to the brim with them. You also had a decent amount of money left from your savings account that your parents weren't aware of. Prize money, allowance, and the salary you got from doing online jobs all went into it. The camp was a few miles off the road, and a couple more to the nearest gas station with a convenience store. Very far yes, but it's better than living with the people who made you do this in the first place.

You just hoped you wouldn't die walking.

Everything was worth it, anyways. You were free now, at least that's what you think.

You trudged to the bed, eyeing the cushions, wary and a little scared to touch the sheets that appeared to be cleaned just recently, you didn't even lay a finger on them ever since you got inside. Oh, but your tired muscles were screaming to just flump down and relax.

So you did.

You dumped yourself face first and inhaled. It wasn't smelly nor fragrant, just the simple freshness on the cotton fabric. You felt beat but ain't sleepy, yet, so you reached to the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a book to pass the time as you waited for the sun to go down and give way for the moon. Its spine and pages had creases, worn out and yellow-stained from age and use. It was a horror-mystery novel told through a first-person narrative, a story of a middle-aged detective and her Maine coon in their attempts to solve a murder case of a young European lady named Cassandra Chase.

You dozed off in the middle of chapter 21, the part where Dinnie, the cat, discovers a valuable clue to the crime, a rotten limb in the dried basement well.

—

Jason settled down on the stairs of his porch; shoulders relaxed and hunched as he leisurely sharpened his machete with a small whetstone. Lines of sunlight kissed him through the leaves of trees, the birds in the area chirped on their perches, and the grass swayed, gentle, as a cool wind passed by.

His day be so fine. No troublemakers to deal wi—

The alarm rang, announcing unwelcomed arrival. As if a switch flipped inside, he's already on his feet, making his way swiftly to their location.

A new batch of wretched youngsters, another day ruined. Hunting them down makes his blood thrum in his veins, yes, but they soured his mood, just when he was at peace. He's dead set on slaughtering them in the most gruesome ways possible, only then he could go back and enjoy the serenity the nature around him brings.

He surveyed the area, camouflaging with the wilderness, silent as he watched and counted the soon-to-be corpses, his mother's voice at the back of his mind, guiding him.

They decided to go either to the main cabins, or the lake...even into the trees.

All but one.

Jason already planned to cut down the couple later as they lose themselves in the forest, doing nasty, dirty things to his camp. The killer shifted his attention to you, curious as to why you didn't join the lot. Instead, you walked back down the road. He followed and saw you approach the small cabin, separated from the rest, your eyes widened...

Adoration?

You were quiet— except for the little gasps of awe you let out in between pants—as you looked around and over the place. The ones you came with were rowdy and destructive, a complete opposite. He hid as he observed you from afar, moving around to adjust his vision on you. You smiled every time you looked to the trees, he noticed.

Why were you smiling like that? Why did you pick this cabin? Were you planning on defiling it?

The last question in his mind made his blood boil. He'll kill you first if that was the case. That cabin you chose was special, it was where he and his mother used to stay. He occasionally visits that one to keep it clean and free of dust. If you even think of—

Jason, sweetie...look closer. She does not have such intentions.

His mother's words rang in his head. Even from where he stood, he could see what you did inside. You looked a little hesitant, touching and drawing back your hand before letting your fingers feel the wood as if it was something delicate. Despite the initial...shyness? You proceeded to make it your home, somewhat, dropping the large duffel bags you carried on your front and back, and a similarly large roller case on your left. It was as if you planned to stay for a long time.

Jason hears you take a long breath and sigh as you went out the backdoor. You grinned wider when you saw the nature around you. You stepped forward, straight in his direction...

For a moment he thought you saw him, seeing your jaw drop. You moved closer, and he just froze there, until you crouched down.

Oh, his plants.

He watched you as you gently picked a fruit, your gaze...soft. You brought it to your mouth, some of the juice spilling on the side and you wiped it with your thumb.

Cute.

You went back inside and continued to unpack your things, carefully maneuvering around the cabin.

Maybe he'll spare you if you continue to be good. You didn't do anything dirty, yet. It's only a matter of time before the camp is shrouded in darkness and his hunt will begin.

Let's see what you'll do before that happens.

Jason tracked down the three that went into the forest. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and it was easier to pinpoint them as he heard moans.

What he saw was utmost disgusting, two girls pleasuring a male with their mouths in broad daylight.

Kill them, my boy! Such foul beings need to die! Kill them, kill!

He circled them, steps soundless. Jason gripped his machete and brought it down the guy's neck, embedding the weapon into the bark, the head rolled down, oozing with blood, and fell against the women, drenching them in red. Not a single cry left from their mouths as he sliced both with one swing, blood pouring out of their throats and staining the ground. Jason dragged their bodies and tossed them into a pit he dug beforehand, making quick work in burying them.

A swift end. Now he waits.

#jason voorhees x reader #jason x reader #friday the 13th #blood #violence #slatra #lmao #my writing #fiction #horror #slasher x reader #feral reader #slasher x fem!reader #reader insert #slasher fic #slasher x reader fic #jason voorhees #friday the 13th fic

51 notes · View notes

acelor-acetaylorswift · 4 years ago

Text

In honor of International Ace Day, a list of famous asexual people whose work Taylor has referenced!

I've been meaning to do this post for a long time, but it's taken some research and help from friends...and when I saw today is International Asexuality Day, I figured it was the perfect time to finally pull this together!

Salvador Dali

"And losing on card game bets with Dalí" -the last great american dynasty

Emily Bronte

There are a lot of parallels between "my tears ricochet" and the relationship between Catherine and Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights.

"May she wake in torment...Why, she's a liar to the end...Be with me always...do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you..."

"Cursing my name, wishing I stayed"

"You say I killed you -- then haunt me!"

"You had to kill me but it killed you just the same"

"I didn't want to have to haunt you"

Heathcliff secretly comes to Catherine's wake

"And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?"

J. M. Barrie - author of Peter Pan

"tried to change the ending / Peter losing Wendy"

writing about her friends' three kids (PP was written about Barrie's friend's kids)

general Tinkerbell vibes in Taylor's styling (lol)

George Bernard Shaw - playwright

So in his play Pygmalion (adapted into the movie My Fair Lady with Audrey Hepburn...just put on netflix!) Henry and Eliza have a very tempestuous relationship, eventually leading to a huge fight at the end of the play. A lot of stuff in their argument reminds me of "my tears ricochet". And it's super interesting b/c Henry seems to basically just want him, Eliza, and their other friend to just live together in some platonic arrangement. Even before that, at the beginning, he expresses that he has no interest in marriage.

(the quote or example from the play is indented, the cursive is the taylor line that corresponds!)

"This ring isn't the jeweler's, it's the one you brought me in Brighton." *Henry throws it in the fireplace*

"We gather stones...Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring"

After Eliza is transformed into a lady, she is distraught because her transformation is supposed to let her go anywhere and be anything she wants, but when she tries to go home, she realizes she can't be there anymore.

"And I can go anywhere I want / Anywhere I want, just not home"

"You have wounded me to the heart."

"And you can aim for my heart, go for blood / But you would still miss me in your bones"

"Well, you have my voice on your gramophone. When you feel lonely without me, you can turn it on!"

"And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky) / And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)"

The beginning of the ME! music video also gives me My Fair Lady vibes with the costumes and the green wallpaper...looks like Henry's library.

Isaac Newton - scientist and mathematician

my tears ricochet: a ricochet (a rebound off a surface) = Newton's Third Law (for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction)

this is me trying: "the curve became a sphere" = Isaac Newton invented calculus

John Ruskin - art critic

Ruskin was an art critic who famously had his marriage annulled because it was never consummated. He fell in love with the Lake District at a young age and was inspired by it throughout his life, eventually buying a home there in the 1870s.

Alexa, play "the lakes" by Taylor Swift!

Florence Nightingale - nurse

Nightingale was an English nurse who revolutionized nursing on the warfront. I can't help but see a parallel in the heart-wrenching

"epiphany"

H.P. Lovecraft - writer

So there's this short story called "Colour out of Space". They made a movie of it recently with Nicholas Cage lol. Basically there's this meteor with an alien virus in it that makes plants really big, then turns them to brittle ash and leaves the fields barren...."My barren land / I am ash from your fire".

This guy finds the stone and keeps it, not knowing its destructive nature.... "We gather stones never knowing what they mean"

Edward Gorey - artist

Gorey did this cartoon which really speaks for itself.

"I'm still on that tightrope" -mirrorball

Nikola Tesla - engineer

Okay, this is one I want to do more research on because there is just so much to read about this guy and his brilliance/quick mind makes me think of Taylor. But a kind of similarity I found was that he drew a diagram of a solar eclipse and ironically, three years ago, Tesla car batteries had this weird thing happen when there was a solar eclipse...

my eclipsed sun

Also, at one point, people in the press began turning against a project of Tesla's, saying it was a hoax.

your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in

Kinda goofy ones, but I thought I'd put them out there as long as I was writing something up. And I'll leave you with the most amazing thing I found about Tesla, which kind of reminds me of Taylor's love for her CATS:

I have been feeding pigeons, thousands of them for years. But there was one, a beautiful bird, pure white with light grey tips on its wings; that one was different. It was a female. I had only to wish and call her and she would come flying to me. I loved that pigeon as a man loves a woman, and she loved me. As long as I had her, there was a purpose to my life.

Anyways, happy ace day! Hope you enjoyed this! I apologize that it's messy...formatting on tumblr is not my expertise lol. it was cool to see some prolific people who were possibly ace because there's not much visibility out there.

Feel free to share any other references/people to look into!

#taylor swift #swifties #folklore #folklovermore #ace #ace pride #international asexuality day #ace spec #my fair lady #ace culture #ace visibility #ace people exist

14 notes · View notes

that-is-where-they-wait · 4 years ago

Text

That is Where They Wait Ch 14: The Letter

previous / next all chapters AO3 FFN

[so funny story I actually posted this on FFN and ao3 forever ago but not here. oops. but posting here is a hassle, in my defense. hope everyone is doing okay? also check the notes for some Haha Funny Jokes because I don't want to add them to the. actual post.]

Perhaps the way to answer the present is with the past.

The metal of the hinge was cool under his finger, intricate design branching onto the actual door. It should've been smooth, but instead it was rough and red.

Rust.

Kai frowned. Rusty metal was usually brittle — but the door hadn't come down, even when he and Karlof rammed into it repeatedly. That plan of ripping at its hinges and hoping it came down was starting to look flimsy.

Ech. Well, they had to keep trying and hope for the best. It wasn't like they could stay in the small, dark room much longer. Kai had cobbled together a makeshift flame with pieces of rope and cloth from his gi, but it would definitely not last much longer.

Plus, he was getting really antsy, and it'd be just plain stupid to be so isolated when they weren't safe. When he'd asked about Lloyd and found out he was, in fact, both inside the mansion and unaccounted for, he had been about ready to knock Karlof's helmet off of his head.

… In hindsight, maybe he'd been a little forceful.

But hey, in return, he'd informed Karlof about everything they knew on the mansion and the spirit so far. So he didn't feel too bad about it.

"Psst." He went over to where he'd left Karlof and poked. "We gotta go."

No response.

Ohhhh, perfect. The guy had to go and fall asleep on him. They'd already spent so much time staying put! He was itching to get moving again, and Lloyd and Skylor were still out there, who knew where! Not to mention, if the others woke up and noticed him missing … (It occurred to him, a little belatedly, that they might blame Jay for that. Another twinge of guilt. But he could apologize for that when they went back.)

But it had been an exhausting trek just to get here. Karlof had endured that, and no sleep to recharge afterwards …

Kai sighed, seating himself next to him. Yeah, they weren't going anywhere until Karlof finished his beauty sleep. But then there came the issue of having nothing to distract himself with. Already he could just feel himself tiredly debating whether to indulge the pessimistic trains of thought forming in his head in all their bleak glory.

Abruptly, something slammed against him. Okay, so it didn't slam into him, but it definitely felt that way, because oof! It was heavy. Kai squirmed briefly, but a moment later, he realized he shouldn't even bother. Instead, he hissed an irritated puff of air through his teeth and tried to pull an overly-cuddly Karlof off of him. Why in the name of the First Spinjitzu Master was he—

An exposed part of his bandaged arm made contact with Karlof's for a second, before Kai drew it away and grimaced at how cold it was.

… Oh.

The way Karlof's arm was draped on him, Kai couldn't reach his face with his hand. He settled for a drawn-out groan instead. Just because he was the human toaster … and now he couldn't move!

Oh well. If nothing else, he could totally hold it over Karlof's head later. Blackmail material or something. But what was he supposed to do now?

A bleary yawn escaped his mouth.

There was one idea.

Nope, he thought to himself immediately. No way, José, someone had to stay awake, and he'd already bailed out on that once. But the door was locked, and the whole day and the effects of staying up so long were finally catching up to him …

Kai tried to debate the point a little longer, but as it turned out, he was pretty tired. Too tired to properly argue with himself, and before he could, he'd already fallen asleep.

The tiny flame winked out and left the room engulfed in black.

Lloyd wrapped up a summary of the search he'd just gotten back from.

Considering that depressingly little had changed since the last time they'd looked, it didn't take very long. The ever-encroaching cocktail of panic and despair clawed at his guts and his chest, made his throat tight, and he could feel it radiating off of Jay and Cole near him, optimistic as they tried to remain. At least Skylor had gotten some work in on fixing her bow while they'd been gone, although she hopefully wouldn't be needing it anytime soon.

The light trickling from the windows had become thin, silvery moonlight and long, fragmented shadows streaking across the floor and cutting into each other. Cole glanced at everyone in the room and declared that it was probably about time they slept; both searches had taken quite a while, even with how much of the mansion was still closed off to them. It didn't seem likely that much more would happen that day.

Zane took in everything they said solemnly, then pulled something out from beside him.

"It's disheartening to know that the two of them are still missing. But perhaps I can offer something else to think about before we rest for tonight?"

On closer inspection, it appeared to be a faded eggplant-colored satchel.

"I found this on the mantle while you were investigating in the tunnels. I didn't want to look through it without you …"

"Can I?" Lloyd reached out, opening the bag and peering into it for a moment. Then, as the rest of them watched, he stuck his hand in and, one by one, set its contents onto the floor for better examination.

On the carpet, there currently sat a small black inkwell, a quill stand, a bound book, a faded set of folded purple clothes, an assortment of large and small weapons, and a few loose pieces of parchment with writing on them. Maybe it all belonged to the person that owned the place, ages ago?

Evidently, they were all wondering a similar thing.

Lloyd set aside the empty bag and stared at the various items he'd placed down. "Hm. They were carrying weapons …"

"Whose stuff is all this?" Skylor finally voiced the question.

"It likely dates back to the Serpentine war," Zane said. "The antiquity of all the items would fit."

"Well, then, we should find out, shouldn't we?" Jay grabbed the book, slowly teasing open the binding and riffling through the pages. Lloyd caught a glimpse of inky letters over paper lightly yellowed with time; all things considered, it was pretty well-preserved.

"Careful, Jay, that looks heavy. Wouldn't wanna pull a muscle lifting that thing." Cole's mouth twitched up in a smirk, Jay briefly peering over the book with narrow eyes.

"… I mishandle an empty packing crate one time."

"Yeah, well," Lloyd huffed. "You nearly dropped it right on my foot. I still get splinters from that crate when I'm not watching my step."

"Thanks, Lloyd!" Jay looked supremely offended. "I didn't ask!" Still a little sullen from the disappointing results of the day, Lloyd didn't bother sassing him back. He scoffed when he noticed Jay looking helplessly at Zane — they all knew full well that never worked, so when the nindroid minutely shook his head there was hardly any surprise.

"Silly zaptrap," Cole shook his head and tsked. "Once is all it takes on this team. You of all people should know better."

Jay hmphed and nearly went back to skimming the book he'd picked up, but his head popped up curiously when Skylor spoke.

"Isn't it kind of late? If we're going to look at anything, maybe we should read one of the loose sheets instead. I feel like trying to get into something that long when we need to sleep isn't the best idea. I want to stay in-the-know, but I'm not sure how much longer I can pay attention to anything right now …" She shrugged, looking a little self-conscious. "Sorry."

Oh, right. It was usually Lloyd's job to be one of the voices of reason.

Looking around, he was certain that last sentence didn't pertain to just Skylor, though. The banter was being tossed rather lazily and there was a sluggishness to everyone's movements, even Zane's. As for himself, the temptation to just plonk onto the next piece of bedding he picked up while cleaning up the aftermath of the pillow-and-assorted-accessories fight and sleep on it right there had been overwhelming.

"It's quite alright," Zane reassured her. "You have a point, at that. Perhaps something like this would suffice for tonight?" He held up a messily rolled piece of paper, and pulled it open. Lloyd eyed it and nodded; seemed interesting enough. Most likely, they could learn a thing or two, discuss, and then go to bed without too much further ado.

"Looks good to me," Cole said. "Let's see about this person, then."

Zane's eyes fell to the paper for a few seconds before freezing, glowing ever so faintly brighter, and doing a funny skip between Lloyd and the paper before settling back on the paper. Lloyd frowned, unsure he liked the new furrow in Zane's brow.

"What is it, buddy?"

Zane coughed awkwardly. Amazing how even nindroids did that when they were nervous.

"This appears to be a letter addressed to Garmadon."

Lloyd's eyes widened, breath hitching. Abruptly his heart felt less like it was beating and more like it was trying to break itself out of his chest.

Dad.

It had been, safe to say, a little while since he'd thought about his father. The same father he'd gone through hell and back to finally have by his side, only to banish and then drown for good.

He'd kept himself good and busy, helping the team move base to the abandoned Temple of Airjitzu. Warded off the lingering pain from remembering, during the Day of the Departed, pretty well with dusting and heavy lifting and organizing what needed to be packed.

Lloyd had always done his best to draw strength from his father's memory. Like he'd told his mother during Day of the Departed: "Sometimes it feels like he's still with me."

It sure didn't feel like he was with Lloyd now.

"Lloyd?"

He blinked.

"Lloyd, you good?"

He looked over. Cole and the others were all watching him with concern, trying to gauge his reaction.

Quietly, he took a deep breath. He was supposed to have gotten past this. It wasn't supposed to still sting so much when he'd moved onto something healthier, more bittersweet than the more raw, consuming pain he'd known for a while.

Maybe the mansion's atmosphere was digging deeper than he'd thought, ripping open old wounds on top of slashing new ones.

"Yeah." Then, to ensure they couldn't press him about it, "Are you sure, Zane? Lemme see." Zane obliged, handing him the letter. Lloyd took it and held it up to the firelight, careful not to wrinkle the aged parchment, and skimmed it silently, feeling everyone's eyes still on him.

Having caught his reaction to Garmadon's name, they were probably a little surprised when he chuckled.

"What is it?" Skylor tilted her head. "What did they say?"

"It's just the first paragraph. Listen to this!" Clearing his throat, all too glad to focus on the letter, he read it, the ninja going from attentive listening to confused snickering as he did.

"My dearest friend, Garmadon, it seems fitting to start with the most important subject here—thanks a lot for letting me blunder into that whole mess, you absolute withered honeysuckle. I was delayed two whole days trying to firstly explain how I accidentally deposed a chieftess, and then restore some semblance of normalcy to the village. I don't," Lloyd had to catch his breath, barely managing to stop snickering long enough to finish the sentence, "I don't even know why we're still friends." "What in the world is this talking about?" Cole wheezed.

"Absolute withered honeysuckle," Jay mimicked, cracking up himself.

"Well. They were friends, we've learned that much," Skylor stated, desperately trying to regain a straight face.

"Absolute chums, from the sound of it. Just the best of buddies. Like you and me, huh, Cole?"

"If this whole 'accidentally deposed a chieftess' stuff is anything to go by," Cole said, still laughing, "they were even better."

"I wonder what they got up to if this was forty years ago." Zane set about tidying up the remaining letters and the bound book earlier held by Jay, probably figuring he might as well get it over with while they were all distracted. "Or who this was, to be so evidently close to Garmadon."

"Uh, am I the only one wondering what a honeysuckle is?"

Metaphorical crickets, much to Jay's chagrin.

"Just me? Okay."

A sigh. "They're flowers, Jay."

As the room got quiet enough to hear the crackling fireplace again, Lloyd went back to skimming the letter. The little smile that had lingered on his face fell flat again as he took in the words.

"What's the holdup?" Jay complained after a moment.

"Honestly, with the way this is written, if I read it verbatim you'd probably fall asleep," Lloyd muttered over the page. "Shut up and let me summarize."

"I … okay."

Lloyd squinted at the words. "This is an awful lot to take in. What's a … Shhh … Shuuuuravansha?"

"A what?" A confused chorus met his ears; evidently the rest of the room only knew about as much as he did.

"Maybe the word comes from the local language," Cole suggested. "I did hear a lot of the villagers speaking something I didn't recognize."

"Probably. Zane, you wouldn't happen to have that language in your databases or anything, would you?" Jay asked.

"I'm afraid not," Zane said apologetically. "What is the rest of the sentence, Lloyd? Perhaps the proper context will make it easier to guess."

"'I spoke with the Shuravansha and revised the contingency plans based on the information I got from them, as well as reports from you and our spies on the Serpentine's movement.' How do you even say that?"

"I guess the jury stays out on that one," Cole replied. "But I don't think that's a person. It says 'the Shuravansha'. I don't call Jay 'the Jay'; it'd be weird."

"So a group of some sort?" Jay suggested. "The word 'the' implies more than one."

"But it could be a title," Skylor pointed out. "Like 'the chief' or 'the sensei'."

"Either way, it reveals little about the nature of this Shuravansha," Zane said. "All that sentence gave us is that they had information about the Serpentine relevant to the author of this letter."

"Whatever it is, it's probably important," Lloyd muttered, rubbing his eyes and going back to the letter. "But maybe we'll find more clues about them later."

"Then we should remember it," Skylor muttered. "How do you spell that?"

He spelled it out and kept reading. The room went back to quiet anticipation, until Lloyd sputtered, squinted at something on the page, then looked up at them.

"What the heck, Cole?"

"Huh?" All eyes were now on a flabbergasted Cole. "Wh-what'd I do?!"

"I, it's not you, it's just — since when was the last master of earth a traitor?"

"Whoa whoa whoa, what?" Jay piped up. "That's kinda a heavy accusation to just bandy around!"

"What is this coming from, Lloyd?" Zane asked.

"It literally says right there, 'Earth went traitor on us'! There's only one way to read that!"

Skylor was scribbling like mad.

"Wha—well, don't look at me!" Cole said. "I don't know anything about this!"

"Maybe that's not all there is to it." It was difficult to see Skylor's eyes behind the shades. "My father turned the Anacondrai and the other tribes against humans to start the whole war in the first place. Then he turned the elemental masters against themselves."

"Maybe that was the case here too. Is there anything else about the master of earth, Lloyd?" Zane spoke up.

"Full sentence is 'The Constrictai among them can burrow, and ever since Earth, the weasel, went traitor on us, we lost our best protection against that tactic.' So they're really still talking about the Serpentine."

"Hmm."

"Mmmaybe we should go back to the rest of the letter?" Jay said tentatively.

"I dunno. I kinda wanna hear about this." Cole curiously poked his head closer, wanting to get a look at the letter. Lloyd drew back and immediately felt bad when Cole regarded him a moment before scooting back, hiding a yawn behind his hand.

Right. It was late.

"I mean, there isn't anything else in the letter about them … just the one sentence."

"Fine. What's the rest of it say, then? We really don't have the rest of the night here."

He had a point. Lloyd was pretty ready to be done with the letter and get some rest, by now.

"Wait a sec," Jay said. "'Went traitor on us.' Who's 'us'?"

"Oh." Cole's eyes widened. "Oh my god, you actually have a point. Yeah, that sounds an awful lot like … they called him 'Earth', not his name."

"How do you know that's not his name? Maybe his mom had a weird taste in names."

"... I'm pretty sure that wasn't his name, Jay."

"The word 'us' does seem to suggest camaraderie," Zane mused. "Given that and their knowledge of elemental power, perhaps they were acquainted with the elemental masters, or worked alongside them in some manner."

"That makes sense," Lloyd agreed, not looking up from the paper he held. "Or maybe they even were a master!"

"There's nothing to confirm it yet …" Skylor pointed out. "I'll just write down that they probably knew about the elemental masters. I think that's a safe conclusion."

"Fair enough," Zane said. "I think we should hear the rest of the letter now, before it gets much later. Lloyd?"

"Okay, so. Basically, my dad sent this person, whoever they are, info about Serpentine movement in the area. There were more loose gangs causing trouble than anything, they were just harder to predict because they weren't associated with the Anacondrai commanders. But according to them, the Southern Woodlands were in too strategic a location to risk—"

"Southern Woodlands?" Jay interrupted.

"That's probably what this forest is called. The villagers called it that on our way here."

"Yeah, I think I remember hearing that from someone," Cole said.

"Anyway. Like I was saying." Lloyd coughed pointedly and continued. "The Woodlands were too risky to leave unprotected because the thick plant life would give the Serpentine a naturally-sheltered base to recover and hide in. And they didn't have a lot of time left because … wait." The loopy handwriting in thick black ink cut off abruptly near the middle of the page, the last sentence never to be finished. "It just cuts off mid-sentence."

"Why did I ever think I'd have an easy time of this." Skylor sounded disappointed. "There wouldn't happen to be a name or anything at the bottom, would there?"

Lloyd shook his head. Of course there wasn't; that'd be too easy for them, now, wouldn't it?

"So why didn't they have time, exactly?" Jay said.

"An abrupt end of that nature would suggest some kind of interruption, would it not?" Zane said. "They never had the chance to finish writing this letter."

"If this is from the same era as everything else we've been seeing, then there was a war on. I imagine that'd do it," Cole said.

"Okay, but there's no signs of a fight in this room," Jay pointed out.

"... Ah. That is. Also true."

If he were a little less tired, Lloyd would've chuckled at Cole being caught off-guard without even a witty defense.

"I wonder what they were expecting not to have a lot of time for …" Lloyd wondered. "There's no signs of a fight here, but it's super messy everywhere else, especially downstairs. Maybe something happened there."

"And maybe it's related to the spirit." Cole ran a hand through his thick, messy hair, eyes dark. "There's no way something like that came out of nowhere."

"Given what we know, it is still impossible to gauge exactly what took place in this mansion," Zane said. "It does seem likely that the Serpentine activity this person mentioned had something to do with it, though. The only way to know for sure would be to find more information"

"So we don't know that, either," Jay muttered. "Write that down as a solid 'maybe', I guess."

Skylor nodded. "Anything else I should put down?"

Lloyd shook his head, and Skylor gratefully flipped the notepad closed and set it aside. Her words had actually begun to slur together with tiredness, so even if there were, he wasn't about to put her through writing it.

"Well, if that's all, then." Cole yawned, again. "Let's call it a day. How long's it been?"

"My internal clock is completely frozen," Zane sighed. "And PIXAL says she can't start it up without any connection to the outside world. But according to my timer, it's been approximately 15 hours since Jay woke me and Cole up to inform us Kai was missing."

Yep. Definitely time to wind down.

The mood dipped briefly at the mention of Kai, but Cole determinedly moved on to the topic of keeping watch, and whether they should do it tonight.

Eventually they decided that it definitely needed to stay, but split it up into two equal shifts. Two of them weren't even options to be considered. Lloyd offered to take shift, but given that he'd gotten out of a tough scrape with the spirit earlier and gone on both search expeditions, everyone else refused to let him, arguing he needed the rest. That left just Cole and Jay, but Cole, having gone through the mansion both times, was tired too. Jay would have to keep watch first.

Then came sleeping arrangements, which also worked themselves out quickly enough. Zane, for whatever reason, stayed in a corner to recharge, Skylor was on one bed, and whoever wasn't on shift would be sharing a bed with Lloyd.

"Alright, Jay, don't do anything stupid this time," Cole ribbed Jay, who was shifting around burnt kindling and trying to keep the little bit of fire left alive.

Jay stuck his tongue out.

"You have sooo much faith in me. Come on, I've learned my lesson here."

"Your timer's working, right? Make sure to wake me in … four hours?"

"Four and a half," Jay corrected him. "And yeah, I will."

"Cool. Night." And with that, Cole left him to his current task: striking a match onto a pile of kindling and hoping for a fire big enough to last.

Soon enough, everyone had bid each other goodnight and settled down.

Lloyd pulled his blanket a little closer to himself, still feeling a residual chill seep into his bones. With nothing to keep preoccupied with, ugly thoughts about the mansion, the horrors of its obscure history, their current conditions, his own utter incompetence, the way he'd just let Karlof get lost, Kai came creeping in far too readily. He tried to push them away.

Not now. Couldn't think about all of those things now or he'd never rest. Even tired, falling asleep was a challenge with sore limbs and unceasing nerves scratching away at him and a bitter resentment towards it all beginning to sink into his bones.

Lloyd closed his eyes regardless, trying to empty his mind. He could faintly hear Jay's breathing under the familiar crackle of the flames that were only too reminiscent of their missing piece.

Shadows twisted and danced on the walls.

Exhaustion won out eventually.

#ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #lloyd garmadon #zane julien #kai smith #cole brookstone #jay walker #skylor chen #that is where they wait #I love spamming tags and hoping someone sees them #we also love posting without links and then editing them back in so tumblr lets this post show in tags

8 notes · View notes

xtruss · 3 years ago

Text

Since 9/11, US Muslims Have Gained Unprecedented Political, Cultural Influence

— By Steve Friess | 09/01/21

It's been an impressive 2021 so far for Muslim Americans. The U.S. Senate, that bastion of partisan gridlock, overwhelmingly confirmed the nation's first Muslims as a federal district court judge and to chair the Federal Trade Commission. Legislatures in five states swore in their first Muslim members, including a nonbinary, queer hijab-wearing representative in, of all places, Oklahoma. Three Detroit suburbs are poised this fall to elect their first Muslim mayors. The New York Jets tapped Robert Saleh as the first Muslim head coach of any American pro sports team. CBS premiered, then renewed The United States of Al, the first broadcast network sitcom with a Muslim lead character. And Riz Ahmed, star of Sound of Metal, became the first Muslim nominated for an Oscar for Best Actor.

"Everywhere I look, I see firsts happening," says MLB Tonight sportscaster Adnan Virk, who in 2012 became the first on-air Muslim host on ESPN.

As the 20th anniversary of September 11 approaches, the recent rise of many Muslim Americans to positions of power and influence—in Washington and in statehouses, on big screens and small ones, across playing fields and news desks—is a development that few in the U.S. would have predicted two decades ago, Muslims included. In the immediate aftermath of the terrorist attacks by the radical Islamic sect Al-Qaeda, anti-Muslim hate crimes exploded and the ensuing global "war on terror" to root out jihadists created a "climate of discrimination, fear and intolerance," as one think tank described it, that surrounded people of Islamic faith in this country and lasted for years. Then, just as heightened anti-Muslim sentiment in the U.S. seemed to be subsiding, Donald Trump was elected president in 2016 on an agenda overtly hostile towards Muslims, and revved it up again.

It is the experience of coming of age in this post-9/11 environment, experts say, that drew a new generation of young Muslims to activism, and motivated them to use their voices in political and cultural arenas to debunk misinformation. That they've found a receptive audience beyond the Muslim community suggests to some observers that many Americans now understand that the anti-Islamic rhetoric they've been served in recent years is based on myths and untrue. As Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison, who in 2007 became the first Muslim sworn in as a member of Congress, tells Newsweek, "The haters have been proven to be liars."

Maybe. But trend data suggests the answer is not that simple and anti-Islamic sentiment remains a factor 20 years after 9/11. Anti-Muslim hate crimes, for instance, are second only to anti-Semitic incidents, FBI statistics show. And in a Gallup poll, one-third of Americans, and a full 62 percent of Republicans, said they'd never vote for a Muslim candidate for president, by far the least support for people of any religion in the survey.

Anti-Islamic sentiment remains a factor 20 years after 9/11. President Donald Trump's ban on travel from seven Muslim-majority countries didn't help (here, protestors make their feeling about the ban known). Jack Taylor/Getty

Is the recent rise of Muslim Americans to positions of prominence a temporary surge forged during the backlash of the Trump era or a permanent change in American consciousness? Are the constant, often viciously personal attacks on Representatives Ilhan Omar of Minnesota and Rashida Tlaib of Michigan—the most famous Muslims in American politics as well as two of the nation's most strident progressives—a last gasp of Islamophobia or proof that, in some quarters at least, it's never going away? If, in fact, the political and cultural shift toward Muslims has staying power, what will the impact be?

The answers are still unfolding. "Muslims are becoming more a part of the American tapestry, but they are still a marginalized group," says political scientist Youssef Chouhoud of Christopher Newport University in Newport News, Virginia. "The question now is, OK, so you have these Muslims in public office, in the public eye, on commercials, on TV shows. But does it stick? That's TBD."

Identity Forged in Adversity

When the attacks by Al-Qaeda occurred 20 years ago, the makeup of the Muslim community in the U.S. was much different than it is today: significantly smaller, older, more conservative, less organized, and made up of more Black Americans and far fewer recent immigrants.

In 2001, roughly 1 million Muslims lived in the U.S., according to the Association of Religious Data Archives, versus 3.5 million recently. As a group, they formed a solid Republican voting bloc, with the immigrant community in particular drawn to the GOP's messages of self-reliance, small government and conservative social policies on issues like abortion and gay rights. George W. Bush won 72 percent of Muslim votes in 2000, according to the Council on American Islamic Relations, or CAIR; other polls put the figure lower by still showed a big GOP tilt. After 9/11 that support plummeted, with just 7 percent backing Bush in his 2004 face-off with Democrat John Kerry.

Party affiliation wasn't the only shift among Muslims in the U.S. in the post-9/11 years. Before the attacks, Muslim Americans seldom saw themselves as a single community bound by a common faith as much as a disparate collection of distinct ethnic groups—Iranian, Iraqi, Syrian, Pakistani and Egyptian among many others—that kept to and fended for themselves, says Niloofar Haeri, chair of Islamic Studies in the anthropology department at Johns Hopkins University. The other large bloc of Muslims in the country were Black Americans who saw the Islam of Malcolm X and boxer Muhammed Ali as both a religion and a political identity used to advocate for the poor and marginalized. That application of the faith, says Haeri, unsettled many immigrant Muslims who came to the U.S. to escape theocracies.

Many Black Americans saw the Islam of Malcolm X (pictured here) and boxer Muhammed Ali as both a religion and a political identity used to advocate for the poor and marginalized. Michael Ochs Archives/Getty

Then came the ferocious backlash after the September 11 attacks, marked by a wave of physical and verbal assaults on Muslims and anyone who "looked" Muslim. According to the FBI, there were 28 reports of anti-Muslim hate crimes in 2000; in 2001, that number had climbed to nearly 500. Although then-President George W. Bush had initially urged people not to take out their fear and anger Muslim Americans, his administration later went on to surveil mosques and college Muslim organizations looking for terrorists and invaded Iraq in 2003 on later-debunked claims of involvement with Al-Qaeda and plans to build weapons of mass destruction. Many Christian religious leaders during this period made harsh anti-Islamic remarks as well.

Conservative politicians also spent several campaign cycles in the post-9/11 period ginning up public fear that Muslims wanted to impose Sharia in America—that is, turn religious strictures of Islam into laws akin to those of some Middle Eastern theocracies. "For a while Republicans were all about banning Sharia law, which doesn't exist anywhere in America that I'm aware of," Ellison says. "In another way, every Muslim does 'Sharia law' every day. When I pray, that's Sharia. When I fast for Ramadan, that's Sharia. When I don't eat pork, that's Sharia. And these are the people who say they defend religious freedom."

All of this stoked fear of unwarranted reprisals among Muslim Americans and helped forge a generation of young activists who are now winning political office from city council to Congress, Chouhoud says. By 2007, 84 percent of 12- to 18-year-old Muslim Americans said they had experienced at least one act of anti-Islamic discrimination in the prior year, a New York University study found. In 2009, more than 82 percent of Muslims in the U.S. reported feeling unsafe, an Adelphi University survey found.

Muslim Americans faced a choice: Grin and bear it or band together and respond, Haeri says. "One of the most consequential changes that happened in various Muslim communities post-9/11 was that those Muslims who were not religious and did not identify as Muslim before 9/11 were suddenly being treated as Muslims whether they wanted to be or not and were asked questions about Islam," Haeri recalls. "Muslim communities filled with newly self-identifying Muslims. There was a lot of soul searching: Why are we shunning this heritage entirely?"

Meanwhile, more religious Muslim Americans, especially the ones who fled autocratic regimes and failed economies, baffled over questions about their patriotism. "We had to redefine ourselves and push back against injustice—from our country, from the government, from the media, from popular culture," says Nihad Awad, co-founder and executive director of CAIR. "We felt the pain about 9/11 that everyone felt but more pain than many because we were blamed for what happened—something we had nothing to do with."

Adversity fused a far-flung gaggle of nationalities into a coalition of necessity, says Democratic Representative Andre Carson of Indiana, who in 2008 became the second Muslim elected Congress. "This role was paved decades ago by the indigenous African-American Muslim community, but 9/11 allowed the immigrant Muslim community to see that the African-American Muslim community was right all along in calling out racial injustices, calling out governmental excess as it relates to violations of civil liberties and spying on fellow U.S. citizens," says Carson, who is Black.

At the same time, throughout the Bush and Obama years, the pace of immigration to the U.S. from Muslim-majority nations in the Middle East, Asia and Africa surged. Between 2002 and 2016, the number of Muslim refugees accepted into U.S. rose 627 percent—from about 6,000 a year to almost 40,000—which, along with the highest birth rate of any religious group, caused the sharp increase in the Muslim population. The influx has since stopped, as the Trump administration cut the number of refugees accepted into the U.S. to an all-time low of fewer than 12,000 in total, almost all of whom were Christian, according to State Department data.

During the period, Muslim visibility in everyday life increased for many because of where they live now: the suburbs. Nearly half of mosques are now in bedroom communities outside major cities, up from 38 percent in 2010, according to a July report from the Institute for Social Policy and Understanding, which researches trends in American Muslim life. At the same time, the actual number of mosques rose dramatically, more than doubling from 1,209 to 2,769 since 2000.

The number of mosques in the U.S. has more than doubled, to 2,769, since 2000. Here, an outdoor prayer event at Masjid Aqsa-Salam mosque, Manhattan's oldest West African mosque. Spencer Platt/Getty

"The age-old pattern of immigrants achieving financial success and moving away from cities seems to be repeating itself in the American Muslim community," ISPU notes.

By the election of Trump, who as a candidate in 2015 called for a "total and complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States," the American Muslim community was bigger, brasher and uniformly unwilling to roll over. Indeed, observes MSNBC anchor Ali Velshi, Trump's effort to ostracize Muslims, and a subsequent rise in anti-Muslim rhetoric and hate crimes to levels not seen since 2001, lit a spark.

"Something is happening right now," says Velshi, who is believed to be the first Muslim to helm a cable network news program. "It feels like a flourishing of Muslims across industries and across platforms."

Running While Muslim

The arc of Sadaf Jaffer's adult life—from college freshman at Georgetown during 9/11 to the nation's first female Muslim mayor in 2019—offers a useful road map of what has happened to Muslims in U.S. politics over the past two decades and, particularly, recently.

The 38-year-old, who was born in Chicago to immigrants from Pakistan and Yemen, had planned to be a U.S. diplomat and interned at both the State Department and the Marine Corps. But she became increasingly distressed by the anti-Islam sentiment rising across the U.S. and, in 2007, shifted her focus, enrolling at Harvard to pursue a doctorate in philosophy focused on Islamic cultures in South Asia. Her goal: "Understanding Muslim societies better so I could teach about Muslim societies in their complexity."

By 2017, she was a professor at Princeton University so alarmed by the election of Donald Trump that she decided to go into politics by running for a seat on the Montgomery Township Committee, the governing council for a wealthy, fast-growing New Jersey burg of 24,000 residents about 20 miles north of Trenton. Even on such a small scale, the notion terrified her family. "My parents told me, 'Shouldn't we lie low and not draw attention to ourselves right now?' but I felt like if we don't stand up for our rights now, who's to say that we'll even have rights moving forward," Jaffer says.

Jaffer won that seat and, in 2019, was elevated to mayor. Her status as the nation's first female Muslim mayor, she says, was blared in foreboding tones across pro-Trump news sites and Twitter. "That caused an avalanche of hate mail—violent ones, too, about how all of us should be removed from the planet," she says.

It didn't deter her from seeking higher office. This June, she won the Democratic nomination for a seat in the New Jersey Assembly; if she wins this fall, she'll be the first Muslim (and first Asian American) in the Garden State's legislature. She is bracing for some anti-Muslim sentiment but also views her campaigns as a chance to debunk constituents' misconceptions about Islam.

"Those person-to-person connections are really important," she says. "They're about getting to know people as human beings."

If Jaffer wins, she'll follow on the success in the 2020 election that brought the first Muslim legislators to capitols of Delaware, Oklahoma, Colorado, Florida and Wisconsin, and the first re-election of Omar and Tlaib. There are other firsts likely to come this fall too; the top vote-getters in the August primaries for mayor of Detroit suburbs Dearborn, Dearborn Heights and Hamtramck—enclaves with large Muslim populations—were all Muslims.

U.S. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi administers the oath of office to members earlier this year, including Representatives Andre Carson, Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib, three of only four Muslims who have served in Congress. Erin Scott/Getty

In all, a record 170 Muslim candidates were on ballots in 28 states in 2020, up from 57 in 2018, and 62 of them won. Exit polling showed that more than 1 million Muslims voted last year, also a record.

"When Trump won, it was a wake-up call for the community," says Wa'el Alzayat, the CEO of Emgage, an organization promoting civic engagement among Muslim American communities.

Also notable: Almost all of these winners are Millennials; Tlaib, at 45 and slightly older than that cohort, is an exception. And most of these Muslim politicans report being the target of some form of anti-Islam sentiment while running.

"They sent out emails connecting me with Ilhan Omar and accusing all the Muslim candidates running across the country of being Islamist or Jihadists," says Delaware state Representative Madinah Wilson-Anton, 27, who ousted a 20-year Democratic incumbent in 2020 to become her chamber's first Muslim. "I was door-knocking and someone was like, 'Go back to your country.'"

Wilson-Anton is not the only Muslim candidate whose religion is used by opponents as grounds to call their qualifications for office into question. In June, GOP Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene of Georgia sent a fundraising email attacking Omar as a "terrorist-supporting member of the Jihad Squad." Sam Rasoul, the first Muslim to run for lieutenant governor in Virginia, was asked in May by a debate moderator whether he could reassure voters he would "represent all of them, regardless of faith or beliefs." And Joe Biden's nominee for deputy administrator of the Small Business Administration, health care executive Dilawar Syed, is in confirmation limbo after two GOP senators objected to the fact that he is on the board of Emgage, the Muslim nonprofit. (He says he'll resign if confirmed.)

In each of these recent cases, though, a broad spectrum from various religious and ideological groups have joined Muslims to object to how the candidates are being treated. An opponent of Rasoul's, for instant, lambasted the debate moderator from the stage for asking the question and social media scorn was so swift that an anchor for the TV station, WJLA, apologized that night on the air. In Syed's case, several Jewish groups are rallying to his side.

"Overall," says Emgage CEO Alzayat, "things are moving in the right direction."

People protest the Muslim travel ban outside of the US Supreme Court in Washington, DC on June 26, 2018. Mandel Ngan/AFP/Getty

A Growing Impact

In office, many of these legislators can point to measures influenced directly by their Muslim backgrounds. Wilson-Anton in June pushed through a new law requiring schools to excuse student absences for religious observances such as Muslim or Jewish holidays. Saqib Ali, who at age 31 in 2006 was elected Maryland's first Muslim state legislator, co-sponsored a law with a Jewish colleague allowing for the licensure of funeral directors who do not embalm bodies because observant members of both faiths do not do so. After someone left a slab of pork on a Muslim family's car in her town, Jaffer started the Montgomery Mosaic, a monthly series of community-wide events to combat hate crimes.

More broadly, Chouhoud says, having more Muslims in the halls of power has changed some conversations. In May, when violence erupted between Israel and Palestine, for example, several Democratic leaders in Washington expressed concern about Israel's aggressive response and the plight of Palestinians. That, he says, was due in part to the activism of Omar and Tlaib. "It's pretty undeniable that the presence of Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib in Congress has given voice to opinions that other Congresspeople in the past have either shied away from or found to be outside of the bounds of what they can actually say, even if they personally held those positions," he says.

Indeed, the congresswomen, both of whom declined Newsweek's requests for interviews, are considered inspirational trailblazers by many within the American Islamic community who see them exploding myths about Muslim women being docile and submissive, Haeri says. Even their differences—Omar wears a hijab, Tlaib is famous for her penchant for swearing—shows "the diversity of Muslim women in a way that surprises and educates a lot of people," Haeri says.

Democratic Representatives Rashida Tlaib of Michigan (left) and Ilhan Omar of Minnesota are considered inspirational trailblazers by many within the American Islamic community. Tom Williams/Getty

Virtually every Muslim elected to state legislatures—and all four who have ever been elected to Congress—are progressive Democrats; Carson, the Indiana congressman, was among the first elected officials to endorse Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders, a Democratic Socialist, for the 2016 Democratic presidential nomination. Sanders held firm to that support four years later; a CAIR survey in February 2020 found 39 percent of Muslim Democrats supported Sanders versus 27 percent for Biden. For many Americans, this alignment defies well-worn stereotypes about Muslims as extreme social conservatives who would not support a pro-choice, pro-LGBTQ Jewish candidate.

Yet the Omar-Tlaib approach is offensive and troubling for some politically conservative Muslims, who object to what they say is an underlying message that Muslims are badly-treated victims of bias. "The experience of American Muslims is one that's overwhelmingly positive," says Omar Qudrat, 40, of California who in 2018 was the first Muslim to win the GOP nomination for a seat in Congress. (He lost by 23 points.) "Many of us reject the victimhood narrative. Do we have problems? Absolutely. But it would be tragic for any young American Muslim to believe all they amount to is being a victim of this great country."

Qudrat and prominent Muslim conservative Zuhdi Jasser defend Trump's policies as being in the interest of national security and praise him for brokering treaties between Israel and Bahrain and the United Arab Emirates. "I'm not embarrassed of my faith," says Jasser, a Phoenix physician appointed by Republican Senator Mitch McConnell in 2012 to the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom. "But I understand the mindset of a country that was attacked. Those wounds are still very deep."

Gold medalist, Dalilah Muhammad of the United States, poses on the podium during the medal ceremony for the Women's 400m Hurdles on Day 14 of the Rio 2016 Olympic Games at the Olympic Stadium on August 19, 2016 in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. David Ramos/Getty

There is an audience for this view: Trump modestly increased his share of the Muslim vote in 2020 to 17 percent from 13 percent in 2016, CAIR reports.

"Muslims are still a relatively socially conservative population," Chouhoud says. "Certain values and priorities do overlap between Muslims and Republicans. It's just that there's the sense that there is no place for Muslims within the Republican Party."

Jasser maintains the GOP is not as anti-Muslim as progressives believe, citing the confirmations earlier this summer of Lina Khan to chair the FTC and Judge Zahid Quraishi to the federal bench, by wide bipartisan margins. Awad, of CAIR, counters by citing Republican opposition to other Muslims nominated by Biden for positions within the administration, such as Reema Dudin as deputy director of the White House Office of Legislative Affairs, and the long GOP-led delay on Syed's bid for an SBA post.

"To dismiss the rest of the Muslim community's concerns about discrimination, they must be living on the moon," Awad says. "I have not met a Muslims since 9/11 who has not experienced some form of discrimination."

Alzayat of Emgage, for one, hopes the GOP does, in fact, become more hospitable. "There will come a day when we have Muslim Republicans running, Muslim Democrats running, Muslim independents running, and they can have healthy disagreements about policies," Alzayat says. "That would be good for the community and good for democracy."

The Stars and the Crescent

This moment of ascendence for American Muslims is not only about political achievements. Popular culture, too, is seeing a sharp increase in Muslim representation, and the two trends feed each other. Movies and television offer familiarity that helps fuel acceptance, allowing many non-Muslim Americans who don't personally know anyone who practices Islam to see Muslim characters woven into the fabric of everyday life.

"It's an opportunity to create greater empathy for and less prejudice towards Muslims off-screen," says Arij Mikati of Pillars Fund, a Muslim philanthropy that next year will award $25,000 grants to 10 Muslim TV or movie storytellers.

Among those helping to drive this new level of cultural visibility: Ramy Youssef, who won a Golden Globe and a Peabody Award in 2020 for Ramy, a half-hour Hulu dramedy about a first-generation Muslim-American millennial struggling with his faith. Also in the cast for the show's second season was Mahershala Ali, the first Muslim actor to win an Academy Award, for his supporting roles in Moonlight (2016) and Green Book (2018). Disney+ is due this fall to drop Ms. Marvel, introducing Marvel's first Muslim superhero, a shapeshifting, bubble-gum-chewing Pakistani-American teen from New Jersey. And there are past and present recent series like Patriot Act with Hasan Minhaj and United States of Al, a CBS sitcom about a U.S. war veteran who helps his Afghan interpreter move to Ohio.

The Netflix series "Patriot Act with Hasan Minhaj" is one of a number of shows that helped to bring Muslim actors and storytellers a new level of cultural visibility. Matt Doyle/Getty

Jaffer, the Montgomery Township mayor, says she's also noticed greater Muslim visibility on kids' shows like Sesame Street and Peg Plus Cat, and it's extended to her daughter's first-grade classroom, where the teacher this spring read a book about Ramadan to students. "Those things seem like little victories, that our celebrations are being recognized as part of America,'" she says. "It's nice, because as a child, I had to explain everything. Just imagine asking a six-year-old to answer, 'What is Christmas?'"

Some Muslim actors and celebrities say they try to advance the ball, talking openly about their faith and cultural identity when asked—or not asked. Adnan Virk, while still at ESPN in 2016, recalls being asked to help anchor coverage after boxer Muhammed Ali died. "One of our producers called and said, 'Hey, we don't know anything about Islamic funerals. Could you come in?'" Virk recalls. "That made sense. They wouldn't know. Open casket, closed casket? What prayers are they reciting? Why is he draped in white? That was a cool moment."

Comic Negin Farsad, a frequent panelist on the NPR quiz show Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me!, says she takes "any occasion I can when it fits organically in the joke to make mention of being Muslim. I do that to let people know that one of their favorite radio comedy shows has a Muzz on it and it's cool."

And MSNBC's Velshi says he intentionally tries to bring on guests and experts who are Muslims and of other marginalized communities to talk about topics unrelated to their identities. "It's the simplest thing in the world to do to break down barriers, to cause people to open their minds," Velshi says. "I want my roster of guests to look like the full breadth of America. Familiarity breeds understanding."

But while there are undeniably more Muslims in higher visibility and breakthrough roles, experts in and outside of the American Islamic community note that the numbers and depictions still don't come close to fair representation. A USC Annenberg study this June of 200 popular global movies from 2017 to 2019 found that just 1.1 percent of the speaking characters in U.S. films and 1.6 percent overall were Muslim, still frequently stereotyped as outsiders, threatening or subservient, particularly to white characters.

"More than half of the primary and secondary Muslim characters were immigrants, migrants, or refugees, which consistently rendered Muslims as 'foreign,'" says Al-Baab Khan, one of the study authors. "Film audiences only see a narrow portrait of this community, rather than viewing Muslims as they are: business owners, friends and neighbors whose presence is part of modern life."

Islamic Center Of America on July 17, 2014 in Dearborn, Michigan. Raymond Boyd/Getty

A Long Road Ahead

The challenges Muslim Americans face in popular culture in many ways mirror the political environment: The gains are real, increasingly visible and more prominent, but for now at least, still relatively modest—and, Muslim activists worry, too easily at risk of being erased.

They point out, for instance, that there's never been a Muslim in the U.S. Senate, elected as governor or appointed to a Cabinet position. Another major terrorist attack involving extremist Muslims, a successful White House comeback for Trump or the election of a similarly-minded candidate could once again sour public opinion or create new dangers.

"Trump was able to capitalize on bigotry, on ignorance and racism, on fear," said CAIR's Awad. "He mobilized it, weaponized it, made it official. His impact is still with us. And he might come back."

Still, the progress thus far has Muslim leaders cautiously optimistic and thirsting for more. Haeri hopes to see more taught in schools about Islam's history, noting the contributions of Muslim scientists and artists are absent from the education of most American children. Carson, the Indiana congressman, looks forward to the day he can donate to the first Muslim to run for president. Farsad just wants better roles to play. "I'm both ashamed and unashamed to admit that I have auditioned for the wife of a terrorist," she says. "That's what was available."

"We've been so underrepresented for so long, we're just working to even out the odds," Emgage's Alazayat says. "The question is not, 'Wow, look at how much we've done.' We should expect more."

0 notes